tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39546253985247387912024-02-21T05:30:36.240-05:00TravelogueStuff I write on my trips!GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-12005109940444563672021-10-03T10:17:00.002-04:002021-10-03T10:18:25.804-04:00 An Unsolved Mystery<p><span style="font-family: times;">Late 90s.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I had just returned from a work week in Florida. Dropping my suitcase on the floor of the tiny living/dining space of my one-bed townhouse, I changed into my pyjamas, made a little dinner and ate it. Then I pottered around, trying to wind down, unmindful of the suitcase lying open on the floor. ‘I’ll unpack in the morning,’ I thought. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I lived in Atlanta, Vinings to be precise, in a picturesque little apartment complex called the Lakes. True to its name, there were three “lakes” within the complex. As you entered the gated community, there were rows of townhouses to the left. Pretty little trellised townhouses. I lived in the third one in one of the rows. A parking lot was to the right of the row, and a paved path led to all the houses in my row. There was a pond right across from the paved path in front of my door, a grassy patch separated the pond from the parking lot. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">While I sat there trying to decide if I wanted to go to bed or the pub, there was a knock at the door. It was 9:30 pm, an hour had passed since I’d come home. I was surprised. The blinds were shut and I couldn’t see who was standing at the door. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Who is it?’ I asked.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Police, ma’am,’ was the astounding reply. ‘We’d like to ask you some questions.’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I was more than shocked. The police? What did they want with me?</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I opened the door to a tall gentleman, dressed in a sharp suit, next to a blonde woman in a ponytail and equally sharp suit. (Yes, they dress up like that in real life too!). They held up their badges and introduced themselves as detectives. ‘Detectives. Wonder which branch?’ i thought, but didn’t ask. </span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Please, come in,’ I invited, more than mindful of the suitcase sitting open on the floor. Then I thought, </span><span style="font-family: times;">‘what the heck? it’s my apartment, I’ll be a slob if I want to.’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘We’d like to ask you about your neighbours,’ he started.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Which one?’ I asked. I had neighbours to the right and left of me. The one on the left was prone to playing loud rap music in the early hours of the morning, and I had reported him to the management already. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘The one on the left,’ was the surprising answer. ‘Have you noticed anything in particular about him lately?’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">The neighbours he spoke of were a couple in their late twenties, maybe early thirties. When they first came, he was in a wheel chair with a broken foot. Later he progressed to crutches. They seemed like a nice couple. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘No,’ I replied. ‘I don’t know them very well. Enough to say hello, that’s about all.’ I shrugged.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Can you describe them?’ he asked me</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Sure,’ I rattled off a detailed description of the couple. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘So they are together,’ his partner remarked. ‘When was the last time you saw them?’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Now, I traveled every week for work. So I would only see them, if at all, on weekends or holidays. The question made me think. Strangely, I couldn’t remember seeing them in the last four/five weeks. I told the detectives as much. The couple used to be quite loud in their intimate moments - if you know what I mean. You could hear them through the paper-thin walls of the apartment. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">But one night stood out to me. I could hear them having a row. They were angry and loud The next morning, torn pieces of paper littered the green patch near the pond in front of our houses. I picked up one of the pieces, and saw that it was from a page in a passport!</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I realized I hadn’t seen them since. I recounted this to the detectives.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Damn!’ exclaimed Mr. Detective. ‘They must be far away by now.’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Did you ever see a silver Mercedes in the parking lot?’ was the next question. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I told them that there were lots of expensive cars in the neighbourhood. I didn’t recall a specific Mercedes. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Thanking me, they left. I stood at the door, watching them walk away, when suddenly, they came back.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Did they drive a car? Do you know what kind it was?’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘Yes, of course, they had a car,’ I told them. Gave them the specific make, model, color and year. It was actually a very unusual colour. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">They looked relieved and thanked me. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I sat down after this strange encounter, and wondered. So many things. I’d reached home at 8:30 - they must have been watching the apartments, because they showed up exactly an hour later. Detectives - which meant a fairly serious issue - kidnapping, drugs, homicide? They never did tell me which division. What had the couple done that had the police after them? Why were they on the run? (this much was now clear). Did the police ever find them? I never did find out. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">The saga doesn’t end there. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Some weeks later, the apartment was rented out to a couple of young boys. A week after they moved in, I returned home one night at about 2 am. I didn’t notice anything amiss. But the next morning, the security from the complex were knocking at my door. They asked me if I had noticed or heard anything the previous night. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">‘No, I didn’t’ I told them. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Turns out, the apartment had been broken into. Nothing had ben stolen, but the door was broken and things had been scattered around. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">Curiouser and curiouser. I wondered if it had anything to do with the couple who’d rented it previously? After all, the townhouse next to it was empty, and at the time the break-in occurred, I was either sleeping or out. Neither had been broken into. Just that same one. </span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /></span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: times;">I’ll never know. </span></p>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-13686184859234254552020-05-06T11:05:00.003-04:002020-05-06T12:06:12.187-04:00Manassas Battlefield<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">On hearing Robert Frost’s The Road Not Taken.</span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">It reminded me of the time, back in 2000, when I decided to drive down from where I lived near DC To Manassas. A small township. The rains had started overnight, and low clouds hung over the land, a constant drizzle drumming on the roof of my car. The wipers were turned on full blast as I made my way down Highway 1. Yes, there is a Highway 1 on the East Coast - not the famous Pacific Coast Highway in California. I was still using Rand McNally’s road maps in those days - didn’t have or want a GPS in the car. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">The Manassas battlefield is one of the lesser known battlefields of the American Civil War. I parked the car in an empty parking lot and walked onto the field. The Blue Ridge Mountains were invisible in the haze. Green undulating fields surrounded me, corpses of dark green trees breaking the rolling monotony. A low stone wall ran alongside the path. Split log fences marked some boundaries. I walked further afield - alone in a grey world, dripping droplets clinging to my jacket hood. The further I got the quieter it got. An occasional swoosh from car tires on the road behind was the only indication of humanity around. A single canon chained off in a small square stood silent - as if it wondered where all the fire had gone. I perched on the stone wall, my feet dangling off the ground over the dip on the other side. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Sitting, I let my senses roam freely. There was only the sound of the rain pattering on the grass and stones. The green smell of wet grass. Cold wet stone pressed into my palms. I looked over at a small wood about three hundred feet from where I was. It was dark beneath the trees. Thick ground foliage made it impossible to see further than a few feet in. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">I could almost hear the sound of thundering canons. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Of rifle fire. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Of cries for mercy. </span><br />
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Of shouts to rally.</span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Of frenetic activity as soldiers ran around, engaged in the business of death. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">Did each one of them believe in the cause he served? Many would never see their families again. Many would see the last light of life in another’s eyes - be it friend or foe. There would be no time to mourn or stop. The only instinct would be to survive. Survive at any cost. Would the rain have hindered the firepower ? Guns jammed? Powder wet? Looking up to see a bayonet coming towards your chest? What would that moment have been like? </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">The rain still fell as I sat there lost in thought. Finally I stirred myself. I wandered some more, reading the plaques set in memory. Finally I returned to my car. Three hours had passed - and I had not seen another soul. Only the ghosts of memories past. </span></div>
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<span class="s2" style="font-size: 16px;">My stomach rumbled. I needed sustenance. I needed to go home. </span></div>
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GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-34104541958970372552012-02-14T15:49:00.003-05:002012-02-14T15:50:07.326-05:00Oktoberfest and a creepy hotel<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My friend, Rupali and I decided to
spend Thanksgiving weekend at the Kitchener Oktoberfest. Kitchener is about an
hour's drive away from my home at Mississauga. The idea was for us to drive out
there on Sunday afternoon and then watch the parade on Monday before heading
out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The drive there was beautiful, the Niagara
escarpment was hot with the colors of fall - reds, golds, rusts, and yellows. I
didn't push the drive - keeping to the speed limit while Rupali clicked away
madly. Hopefully she got some good shots.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Kitchener turned out to be a small
town with lots of tall buildings, and nestling between them old, old buildings
with red brick exteriors catching the late afternoon sun. Parts of the roads
had been closed off, as street food vendors occupied them offering all kinds of
German (?) goodies - overwhelming us with the smell of grilling bratwurst and
hot cotton candy, throw in some pretzels and sauerkraut and there you have it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We were booked at the Walper Hotel –
a heritage hotel with a long list of celebrity guests. Since check in was not
until 2 pm we figured we might as well get lunch first. Crabby Joe's caught our
eye. A bar/restaurant that served up a medley of a menu - Asian, German, you
name it! It was good, though! Lunch over, we headed back to the hotel. The
hotel was across the street, on the street corner, and one of the beautiful red
brick buildings that we had seen earlier. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Checked in and feeling rather hot,
we decided to go to our room and catch some shut-eye. The hotel was old, very
old, and undergoing renovations. The elevator was ornate and creaked up the
three floors. We stepped off the elevator into a hallway obviously undergoing
renovation. White washed walls contrasted with heavy, dark wooden doors. Dark,
wooden, ornate and obviously old furniture decorated the hallways. A huge empty
frame on one wall indicated where a painting would have been. Large chandeliers
above our heads lighted the empty corridors. We found our room and used the
heavy brass keys to enter. The door did not creak, thankfully. Two double beds
occupied one side, and on the other were a table and a TV. I took the bed
towards the window, which was shaded with dark brown blinds. A ledge ran along
the base of the wall, and terminated in an air-conditioning unit behind the TV.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We decided to crash for a bit. I
played around with my iPad taking a picture of Rupali as she snored away. I
also decided to check on the history of the Walper Hotel. Wikipedia offered the
information that this hotel is reputedly haunted in the basement by a man in a
coat. Hmmmm… it also named all the famous people who had stayed there,
including Queen Elizabeth, Madonna and Lady Gaga. Go figure!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the evening we decided to go for
a walk. It’s a peaceful town, but kind of deserted. We decided to head to the
Rum Runner’s pub for dinner. The Rum Runner’s pub also has a bit of colorful
history. It’s located in the basement. During the prohibition, the walls of the
pub were used to store casks containing – you guessed it – rum. The hotel was
part of a long underground supplying alcohol to the United States. Today, it’s
a beautiful pub decorated much like any other pub. One of the walls is covered
with newsprints from the prohibition days as well as the picture of a man who possibly
participated in the nefarious rum running activity. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rupali and I ordered cocktails. The
bar was nearly empty, with a few other tables occupied. The bartender and
server had time to chat with us, and chat we did. I was sitting with my back
towards the wall, facing the bar. Rupali sat facing me. All of a sudden, I felt
someone looking at me from where the entrance was. I looked over but I could
not see anyone there. The room to the right of me was empty just like the
corridor. I was getting goose pimples and rubbed my arm. Rupali asked me what
the matter was. I told her what I had been feeling. She was surprised at my
answer. There really was no-one at the door. We finished an otherwise
uneventful dinner and decided to head back upstairs. We wanted to be up early
to watch the parade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I need time to fall asleep – my unwinding
time, I call it. I need to read a book or watch TV till I am asleep. My ipad
had my downloaded reading material, so I continued to read for a while, while
Rupali slept. At some point I glanced at the time. It was getting late, but I
was not in the least bit sleepy. Figuring that I should probably try to fall
asleep, I shut down my iPad, turned off the lights, and closed my eyes, but
sleep was far away. I tossed, turned, got up, closed the blinds, and tried to
sleep again. The digital readout of the clock told me that time was passing oh!
So slowly. I could hear dogs barking in the distance. Sometimes, I heard the
faint sounds of revelers as they returned from their revelry. At one point I
heard a loud thump in the room next to mine. Weird! Sometime around three in
the morning I fell asleep. I had the strangest dream. Something bad. Very bad,
and very weird. I woke up to the vibration of my cell’s alarm. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Rupali was already up. I was feeling
groggy with so little sleep. I told her I hadn’t been able to sleep until about
3 am. She looked at me strangely and said, “well, I was having these horrible
nightmares and woke up around 3. Then I fell asleep again, and I had more
nightmares till I woke up. I don’t normally have nightmares. I was surprised”.
I told her I’d been seeing strange dreams, too. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The two of us couldn’t believe that
we’d both had marginally weird experiences. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was time to get ready and watch
the Oktoberfest parade. We showered, changed and went to the coffee shop below.
Crowds had gathered on the pavements with chairs, and blankets – it was a
little chilly – and coffee. There was a long line at the coffee shop. I told
Rupali to get the coffee while I marshaled the seat by the window. But it wasn’t
enough for us. We had to go out and see the parade for ourselves. For two
hours, we were treated to some very good, some funny, some good and some
strange Oktoberfest floats, and marching bands, including a Chinese troupe and
a Filipino band (viva la Oktoberfest! Who doesn’t love beer?) And of course,
there were the usual Molson floats, and cowboys and big balloons and … more
marching bands. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With the parade over, we headed back
to the hotel. In our room, we picked up our bags and were headed out. I saw a
hotel employee come out of the room next door. Evidently, she had been in
there. I wondered if anyone had been staying there the previous night. It didn’t
look like it! What WAS that bump? With all those questions, we headed down,
checked out and finally got on our way back home to Mississauga. </span><span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Bell MT', serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
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Location:<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Kitchener,%20Ontario&z=10">Kitchener, Ontario</a></div>
</div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-91701686282129850102010-08-12T20:45:00.004-04:002022-03-05T22:58:38.855-05:00Sir Paul McCartney – You disappointed me…<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 13px;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Now that that got everyone’s attention ----</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That’s a lie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Well just for a little bit – it was true. Yesterday (8th August, 2010) Rupali and I finally went to see the Paul McCartney Up and Coming Tour of 2010. The concert was at the </span><st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Air</span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><st1:placename w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Canada</span></st1:placename><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> </span><st1:placetype w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Center</span></st1:placetype></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> and was supposed to start at 7:30 pm. There were no opening acts announced. Knowing that the set would be about two-and-a-half hours long, it was only to be expected that we thought there would be an opening set. But there wasn’t. We were quite excited as we went into the Air Canada center and took our seats. The seats were filling up quickly. 7:30 came and went.. the crows waited patiently. Then 8:00 came and went. The crowed decided to amuse themselves. Mexican waves went round and round. Finally around 8:15 the two large screens to the side of the stage lit up. Music and video. Oh yay!! just what we needed. NOT!! Finally, at 8:30 pm, a full hour after the show was supposed to start THE MAN walked out onto the stage. And the crowd lost it!!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He is not very tall. Wears little heels. Slim. Still mop-topped. Still boyish looking. Dressed in a Sgt Pepper’s style jacket and black pants. And can still scream with the best of them. The set began with ‘Venus and Mars/Rockshow’. And then it went on – three hours of pure bliss.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">He mixed them up. And sang almost every Beatles song that I like – except ‘Come Together’. Now that would have been the ultimate for me. That was one song that I listened to on a 45 rpm track over and over and over again, until it almost wore out the vinyl. The jacket came off by the time ‘The Long and </span><st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Winding Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">’ came around.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">I was taking pictures and videos as much as I could. All my batteries had been charged before I left including a spare set. But strangely half an hour into the set, and both sets of batteries died. Not only that – my cell phone died too!! WEIRD is not the word. So I was only able to get a few snaps/videos. Watch it on youtube.<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaQFy3ryiag"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaQFy3ryiag</span></a></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So what did he sing?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Remember, this is a man who has been rocking for 50 years almost.. YEP!! The Beatles came together in 1960 – remember? And he has this humungous catalogue over this long period of time. And his fans are now in their THIRD generation!! So everything he sang resonated with the crowd.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">At one point, with just one spotlight on him, an acoustic guitar in hand – he sang ‘And I love her’. I cried. This song to me has always had a very strong memory attached to it. Years ago, sitting on a rooftop in Kolkata, with my cousins Shubro and MoonMoon and my sister during load-shedding – or rolling black out. Shubro was strumming his guitar and singing ‘And I love her’. At the words - ‘bright are the stars that shine/dark is the sky’ - we all looked up at the sky. It was a new moon night. And the stars shone brightly with no moonlight to dim them. We’d never have seen them had there been no load-shedding. And now here in front of me, was Paul McCartney – singing that sweet melody, those incredible simple, heart-felt lyrics. And I cried. One more memory created.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Oh yeah. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So here’s the set list he played.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">1. Venus and Mars / Rockshow<br />
2. Jet<br />
3. All My Loving<br />
4. Letting Go<br />
5. Drive My Car<br />
6. Highway<br />
7. Let Me Roll It<br />
8. The Long And </span><st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Winding Road</span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
9. Nineteen Hundred and Eighty Five<br />
10. Let ‘Em In<br />
11. My Love<br />
12. I’ve Just Seen A Face<br />
13. And I Love Her<br />
14. Blackbird<br />
15. Here Today<br />
16. Dance Tonight<br />
17. Mrs Vandebilt<br />
18. Eleanor Rigby<br />
19. Something<br />
20. Sing The Changes<br />
21. Band On The Run<br />
22. Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da<br />
23. Back In The </span><st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">USSR</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
24. I’ve Got A Feeling<br />
25. Paperback Writer<br />
26. A Day In The Life / Give Peace A Chance<br />
27. Let It Be<br />
28. Live And Let Die<br />
29. Hey Jude<br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Encore<br />
30. Day Tripper<br />
31. Lady Madonna<br />
32. Get Back<br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span><br />
<span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Second Encore<br />
33. Yesterday<br />
34. </span><st1:place w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Mull</span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> Of Kintyre (with the Peel Regional Police Piper Band)<br />
35. Helter Skelter<br />
36. Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band / The End <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Yes, there really were two encores. But there were those moments that made my day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Like the time the lights were focused on our section only. I looked around and no one had their hands raised. So I raised my hands and waved. Next thing I know – he waves back!! I like to think he was waving at me.. ** tee hee!!**<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And Rupali was in tears with ‘Hey Jude’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And the pyrotechnics with ‘Live and Let Die’ were amazing. But funnier was Paul’s drama-baazi after the fireworks were done!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">His tributes to Linda (‘My love’), John (‘Here Today’ – solo with acoustic guitar only) and George (‘Something’). So he switches to a ukulele and starts talking about how he and George liked to play the ukulele. And evidently, he told George that he’d learnt one of George’s songs on it, and he starts strumming the ukulele and then its ‘Something’ with a Hawaiian flair and then he switches to a bass guitar and completes the song with full band backup.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And the sing along to ‘Ob-la-dih’. Evidently this is the first time they played it on tour.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And ‘Hey Jude’? Well they brought the piano out – the multi colored almost psychedelic painted one. And of course, he made the crowd sing along to ‘na na na – na-na-na na – na-na-na na –Hey Jude’. That scream is still as good as it was forty something years ago.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And ‘Let it Be’ – what can I say… !!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And of course, ‘Yesterday’ – alone on stage. Guitar in hand and that incredible strumming…Brings tears to the eyes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Followed by ‘Mull of Kintyre’ with a full Scottish </span></span><span style="font-family: "Segoe UI"; font-size: medium;">band </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Segoe UI"; font-size: small;">(it was the Peel Marching Band). He acknowledged that many of his relatives had actually moved to </span><st1:country-region style="font-family: "Segoe UI";" w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Canada</span></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Segoe UI"; font-size: small;"> from </span><st1:country-region style="font-family: "Segoe UI";" w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Scotland</span></st1:place></st1:country-region><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "Segoe UI"; font-size: small;">. Thank God he didn’t … Where would the Beatles be then?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And ‘Helter Skelter’ talk about a classic. It sounded better than most rock songs of today and completely modern.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The sheer genius of the man, his incredible energy, his presence, charisma.. call it what you like. For three hours, he kept us entertained and enchanted. Even from a distance you can’t take your eyes off him. He talked, laughed and joked with the audience. No gimmicks. No fancy dress changes and no backup dancers. Just brilliant music and an excellent time.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Was I disappointed??!! Heck No!! Well, just a little bit. Wish he’d sung ‘Come together’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Paul used to be my favourite. He still is. He will always be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: 'Segoe UI';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">And I Love him.</span><o:p></o:p></span></div></span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-34739572922909916872010-06-09T09:59:00.005-04:002010-06-09T10:30:04.276-04:00Concert at the Skydome<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So why am I writing about a concert in my travelogue blog? Well, its not a 'food-for-thought' kind of thing in the first place. And this one qualifies as travelogue. I went to the Rogers Center for a concert for the first time (I'd been there before, just not for concerts). I was transported to a world that I wanted to be in for all of five hours. Transport .. travel... see? And finally, the Rogers Center is one of the gotta-see-it tourist spots in Toronto. So it qualifies. Besides, its my blog, and I decide what qualifies or not ... ;-p !!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">The Rogers Center or the Skydome as it was initially known used to be a part of the Toronto Skyline. Multiple high rises along the waterfront have changed that skyline now, so its visible only as chunks between the buildings, and completely hidden from sight from the East.. So no more will we see the graceful lines of the CN tower supplemented by the curves of the Skydome. Needless to say, to rename it to the Roger's Center even makes the romance go out of one of the most innovative stadium designs in the world. Enough said. Let's get on with the concert.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">So Rupali and I had tickets to the Eagles concert today. May I mention that this is my first concert in a long while? and the first in an arena, so .. it was a new experience. Rupali got them last minutes - so of course, our tickets were way up in the rafters.Nothing like staring up at Darius Tucker from Hootie and the Blowfish from six feet away and singing every song along with him. No, this time we would have to look at the singers across the length of a football stadium and then some. But regardless. We were here to see the Eagles. The warm up group was the Dixie Chicks. And the warm up group for the Dixie Chicks was a band called JD and the Straight Shots. They took the stage at six.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">JD and the Straight Shot has a front man named JD (d-oh!!) the lead singer. His voice is best suited to the bluesy numbers rather than country rock. The fast numbers were not that good, and he sometimes got a little pitchy (as Randy Jackson would say) or as Anu Malik (Indian Idol judge) would say 'Sur se bahut hat gaye' which basically means - you were singing off-key! There is one number though that stood out - 'Slow motion in reverse' - I might even download it! That being said, JD comes across as folksy, humorous and down-to-earth. They finished their set and left.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Next to us were a couple, Paula and Allan from Hamilton, ON. She was a nurse and funny. Perhaps the beer they'd been drinking had something to do with it. But she was nice and, did I mention, funny?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">And speaking of shots. There was this guy that was actually smoking a joint in the row in front of us. We all pounced on him like - Dude - Put it out!! it was making me cough. I did my best I'm allergic to smoke thing. So what IS it with drugs and rock concerts. Seriously? Paula tried to convince me that marijuana was probably more beneficial than alcohol. Her rationale - alcohol sometimes makes mean and obnoxious drunks. Mary Jane? Never. Nobody gets mean on pot. Hmmmm.... </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Fifteen minutes later the lights went down and the Dixie Chicks came on. Fabulous - just fabulous. Talk about true girl power. Natalie's very cropped brunette hair style definitely brings out her best features - she doesn't look as pudgy any more. She looks sexy! Martie and Emily looked awesome. The thing is - these girls didn't waste time chatting with the crowd, instead they wowed them with some of their best songs. One after another after another. Landslide, Ready to Run, Shut up and Sing, Wide open Spaces (which they opened with), and of course I'm not ready to Make Nice. At which point, the crowd went wild - the Canadians appreciate subtlety like that (sez me tongue-in-cheek). But I digress. The show was so entertaining, just watching them interact, my eyes were glued more to the stage than to the big TV screens, and lemme tell you this - they were tiny on that stage from where I was sitting. Yet I had to keep watching them . The power of a live show.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">They finished their 45-minute set and left. 15 minutes later, the stage was set for the Eagles. They opened with a number that involved a lot of spots going straight up to the ceiling, and they sang something a Capella. I have no idea what it was. Why? Because the crowd was screaming and so was I and nobody was LISTENING! That's why. Needless to say from that point, it just got better and better. Songs I'd forgotten, and songs I'd known and loved. Of course they sang Hotel California. The beauty of it was - they move the instrumental arrangements around and they move the rhythm section around. But they did not move the main melody at all - so everybody gets to sing it - exactly as they've heard it a few thousand times before. And they did not mess with one of the most recognized guitar sections of all times, nor do they mess around with Don Henley's drums - everybody HAS to clap to that beat.. I didn't want or need to see anything any more... But I stayed for the rest of the set. And iI was glad I did. It was rock/country rock at its best from the masters. I think one of the things that I will never forget is this one</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> small segment with Joe Walsh where he held the note on the guitar string with his left hand, while he lowered the note by releasing the tension on the 6th string with his right hand! It was SICKKKKK!</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> It was almost 11 pm then, and I decided that we needed to go. They were doing their encore set, now. Two songs were done (one of them brought back memories from a certain concert when we were in the 8th Std (grade)). And the spot came on Don Henley on a dark stage as he crooned 'Desperado' ... I sat down. I didn't leave. How could I ? I got goose bumps and nearly cried. It was just amazing. My heart was truly full and satisfied. To see these gurus live.. for an Indian from a little town in India? Un-f***ing-believable. Sorry I am not listing the songs here, as that would be a spoiler for friends who have tickets to the show in their hometown.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">But the Rogers Center - such a letdown. If you have seen the dome, you know that it opens like grapefruit or onion sections. Each section slides into the next - three on one side and one on the other - on giant rollers along the side. This is the only stadium in the world that is designed to open up that way. How do I know it? I've watched it open many times from the 16th or 17th floors of the RBC offices, which are right next to it. Unfortunately, that also means that there is a veritable network of metal in the rafters. The belly of the dome is fully covered by this 'lattice work' of metal. And in the lower decibels, the bass bounces off them. And in the higher decibels, they vibrate. Every time anyone went above a certain pitch- the audio started getting garbled - it was getting thrown at us from multiple points with no dampening. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Long story short - the acoustics are TERRIBLE. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Moral: NEVER GO FOR A CONCERT AT THE SKYDOME/ROGERS CENTER .... EVER!! </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Unless of course, its Tina Turner or Pink Floyd or .. oh who am I kidding? I will probably land up there the next time there is one performer coming that I know I may never have the chance to see live again.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Which reminds me - I'd better book those Paul MacCartney tickets now. </span><br />
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</span></div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-76638744459633084662010-03-19T23:21:00.004-04:002010-04-17T09:08:17.001-04:00Florenceville, NB - Mukmuk goes to the land of Mi’Kmaq<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">January 11th, 2010<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">The very first time I came to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Florenceville</st1:city>, <st1:state w:st="on">New Brunswick</st1:state></st1:place>, was in December of 2008. I was asked to go there to babysit our database server, while two consultants from the Big Blue ran PoC's with their software. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">New Brunswick is to the East of Maine. A small state that is the only official Bi-lingual state in Canada. It boasts of a small population, amazing fishing and is the home of the Mi'Kmaq natives. The New Brunswick countryside is an extension of the Appalachian range - so even though the mountains are not very high - it is still a rolling vista. </span><br />
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<span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;">I only knew I had to fly to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Fredericton - the provincial capital, on the banks of the St John river</st1:place></st1:city>. From there, rent a car and drive for about 140 km to reach Florenceville - home of one of the biggest producers of processed food in <st1:place w:st="on">North America</st1:place>. Ah! how difficult could it be - the route was straight - get out the airport, hit the <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Trans Canada Highway</st1:address></st1:street> and then hop off onto the RR-130. The hotel should be right around there. Mapquest don't lie. (oh yes, did I mention that this was in my pre-GPS days?).<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The flight was delayed out of Toronto due to snow. Two hours later the sun was slowing heading towards sundown, when the plane swooped over what seemed to be a vast snowy field, liberally covered with evergreens that stuck out almost like in a picture post card. The plane landed on what seemed to be a vast sea of snow, the wind blowing little swirling dervishes of snow, red gold in the last light of the sun. It was cold! So very Cold!! I walked out of the airport, into a blowing wind. The rental car was liberally covered in snow, but not that I could not drive it. I jumped in - a Pontiac G6 - and then my adventure began. The first few miles were breathtaking! But slowly the sun went down and I was driving in pitch black darkness. Once in a while, a car drove by, or I came up behind a truck. It wasn't snowing, but the wind from the truck tires blew the snow around, making it hard to see. I drove on for what seemed like hours! At some point, the directions fell off my seat onto the floor. I wasn't going to stop to pick them up. I kept driving. Feeling a little desperate at this point, I finally hit the OnStar button. A very polite lady informed me that I should only use the OnStar service for emergencies. Well, I said, I think I am lost. I am going to Florenceville, New Brunswick and I don't know if I have missed my exit or not. To me that constitutes an emergency. She put me on hold as she tracked me. You're fine, I was informed. You just have to travel a little further. Whew! Finally I hit the exit - at least I thought it was the right exit. Ahead of me was a brightly lit barn - and nothing much. A sign proudly informed me that I was at the Potato Museum! A museum for Potatoes!! WOW!! Of course, at this point I had no idea that Potatoes from Eastern Canada are some of the best! Who woulda thought?! But I digress.</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The directions did not seem to make sense. I moved on and then started to despair. I had to cross a river somewhere, I knew - yet I did not see one. Finally, desperate - I called the hotel. A very kindly lady talked me through. She told me where to go, and a few minutes later I was across the bridge. Turn left, follow the signs to the highway, turn right at the top of the hill, go for a couple of kilometers and then you will see a blinking yellow light. The motel is on that corner. </span></span><br />
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</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I faithfully followed her directions - the top of the hill was dark - far away a few dim lights flickered - but a few minutes later I spotted it - a blinking yellow light and next to it - the most beautiful sign in the world. A big MOTEL sign. Sigh!! I was finally at my destination. It wasn't the best of introductions to Florenceville. But then I did not expect the Hyatt either! And it so isn't the Hyatt!</span></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><b>* * * * *</b> </span></div></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;">The next time I flew in on an earlier flight. It was my birthday, and not surprisingly everything went extremely well. I reached the airport early. There were long lines for checkin-s and security - but being a priority club member has its rewards. Oh yes! I found the Starbucks coffee shop, grabbed a chocolate au pain and headed back to the gate. Two of my other colleagues were also traveling with me. I met them there. The plane was a small Regional Air jet. The sky was partially cloudy, the flight was completely uneventful. Picked up our bags and headed out of the airport. I wasn't going to be driving this trip. I ensconced myself in the back and put my feet up. Then I had my camera out. The road winds out of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Fredericton</st1:place></st1:city> for 6 kms before it hits the <st1:street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Trans Canada Highway</st1:address></st1:street>. I clicked away... Check out the pics.. </span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri;"><br />
</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/FlorencevilleNBMukmukGoesToTheLandOfMiKmaq#">http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/FlorencevilleNBMukmukGoesToTheLandOfMiKmaq#</a></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">In honor of the fact that it was not only my birthday, but my colleague's anniversary, the managers decided to take us out to dinner at the only fine dining restaurant in Florenceville-Bristol area. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Let me explain first that eating out in Florenceville, presents several interesting challenges. For example - can you find something on the menu that is not fried? Or is a vegetable - other than corn, potatoes or onions? Healthy choices on the menu are few and far between - and fast food is relegated to the obligatory Subway and Tim Horton's - not even a Wendy's, a couple of pizza places and the pub. So finding someone that does food fresh in a remote out of the way location like this is amazing!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The restaurant is called 'Fresh'. It is owned by Sara - a petite brunette who doubles as the serving staff too. The chef's name is Jeff. The two of them cook up a menu that changes every so often, and use fresh and seasonal ingredients. Their aim - I think - is to provide a dining experience unlike anything you would get in that neck of the woods. Typical New Brunswick food (at least what we saw of it) is junk - fried, pizza, etc. Yet here was this little restaurant that aimed to provide haute cuisine at an extremely (for us Torontonians) reasonable price. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">The restaurant is in a couple of railway carriages, the station is the washroom. The dining room is the first carriage and the kitchen is the second. Heavy wood work, and equally heavy metal furnishings provide a cosy intimate ambiance. The wine is good, the food is excellent. It starts with an amuse bouche (a complimentary dish - usually provided by the chef), followed by an appetizer, a palate cleanser (complimentary) and an entree. And if you still have space in your tummy go for the gold - the dessert. I did - luscious chocolate ganache topped with a ceremonial candle in honor of the day I came to this earth. What I did not know then was that the best dish to order is the chef's special. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Since then, I have been to Fresh a few times. The last time was this week. I was with my two colleagues Edgar and Ming. Ming has just returned from an exciting two weeks at the Vancouver 2010 Olympics and his souvenir is the mascot's sidekick - Mukmuk. He has now started to record his day or doings using Mukmuk as his mouthpiece. So of course, Mukmuk joined us for dinner. Edgar decided to go with the Chef's choice. Ming and I chose a la carte. Edgar's appetizer was amazingly good. And then his entree was even better - a cornucopia of seafood - mussels, scallops, shrimp and a halibut. I was jealous and told Sara that I wish I had ordered the chef's choice. To my amazement a few minutes later - the chef came out and placed a small dish of scallops for me. They were the most beautifully cooked melt-in-you-mouth scallops that I had ever tasted! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">And then there is Florenceville... with spring officially here, there is barely any snow left on the ground. The leaves have not yet blossomed on the trees. With longer daylight hours - I'm just happier now. And more than happy to be back home in the bright lights and sleep in my own bed! </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Calibri;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Its been a long week. Next week - off to Florenceville again. Wonder what it will bring for me, then!</span></span></div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-42404872663876223452010-01-06T18:11:00.000-05:002010-01-06T18:11:04.670-05:00Beijing - Times Three - Pt 2<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-weight: bold; line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>A Day Trip to the Sausage Palace!</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> Saturday, June 27, 2009</i></span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 11px;"></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div style="clear: none; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Monday dawned clear. However, it soon started turning foggy. Rain was forecast. Work was work. The day went by in the usual manner. I had dinner back in my room. I was getting to hate this hotel’s in-room dining menu. A salad is about all I could eat and a dessert. Gotta have dessert.<br />
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Tuesday dawned smoggier than the day before. I had an email from Kevin, his flight was delayed due to a volcanic eruption near Japan. They would be re-routing to San Francisco, and then on to Beijing. He didn’t think he would make it in that day. Later in the day, another email from him, sitting in the San Francisco airport. Poor chap. It would be a long day for him. I didn’t hear from him, but I was certain if anything untoward happened, or he didn’t make it out of Japan that night, I would hear from him.<br />
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The next morning, I saw him on IM – he was in Beijing, and funnily enough, right next door to me! Evidently, they had held up the Beijing flight so he could get on it! Nice service!! Jay was also here, and I would be meeting him for the first time at breakfast. And Siraj would be arriving late on Friday. It was worth all the heartburn to have the whole group there.<br />
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But the weather was getting ugly. The smog had gotten thicker and thicker. We could barely see the hotels across the park. The Pan Gu was invisible from my window. See the pics for yourself.<br />
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</span></span><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingOutAndAboutInBeijing#" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://picasaweb.google.co</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">m/madhumita.routh/BeijingO</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">utAndAboutInBeijing#</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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Once in the street you could smell the smoke in the air. It was very unpleasant. Wonder what they would have done if it had happened during the Olympics! I was starting to feel uneasy with the smog. It felt like I was in a c-grade horror movie and some guy or THING was going to jump out of the smog at me… some horribly mutated THING! By Friday the smog finally lifted.<br />
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We dined well that week – finally!<br />
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I had also brought with me two bottles of ice wine along with a box of maple cookies, which I was digging into along with my morning coffee. That first night with all of us there, we chilled a bottle of ice-wine and had it during our 10pm status call. Cheers! (gotta learn how to say Salud in Mandarin).<br />
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So let me talk about Jay. He is hilarious and so very American. While Eric is always trying to be culturally correct, and Kevin is somewhere in between, Jay makes no apologies for who he is. Not that he is rude or obnoxious – far from it. He is very careful that way. But otherwise, he loves his ‘concubines’ or the hostesses at the Palm Gardens bar in the hotel. They are all pretty girls and know these guys and their drinks pretty well.<br />
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</span></span><span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So this one night, we are at the lounge (see pics), and the girls all have new outfits on. Their summer uniforms, as they explained to us. A sleeveless full-length maroon outfit, with a slit up the side – a very high slit, hair piled up high, and a broad silver armband on their right arm. Kevin and Jay and Bob were all excited. They wanted those armbands – for their wives or ….. So I played wingman. As one cute girl did her stir-once-stir-twice-pause</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">-tap-tap routine with Jay’s drink, I complimented her on the armband. It’s so beautiful! I said, is it silver? Yes, she replied smiling prettily. And those are your name tags! I exclaimed – for each arm band is inscribed with the name of the girl wearing it! I looked over at the guys, who were doubling up with laughter by now. When she left, I just raised my eyebrows at them – did they still want those armbands? I could not stop laughing at their chagrined expressions. I don’t think their wives would appreciate it if they brought back name tags inscribed with ‘Una’ or ‘Helena’… oh no! I don’t think it would be appreciated at all!<br />
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In between, we met Bob’s latest girl friend. A Chinese woman in her 50s named Li, who had hair down to her knees, and dressed like a twelve-year-old American girl, extremely short skirts, see-through blouses, and tights! In 90 degrees heat! I guess the language constraints made it hard for her to converse with us beyond the ‘ni hao’ and ‘xie xie’. I did not know what to make of her.<br />
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We had decided to go to the Made in China on Friday. Peking duck is now officially a tradition for me. I have to have it in China. And the next time I do, I am hoping Sam will be there to join me. It will be fun to introduce her to it. I did have Peking duck at another restaurant the other night, but there’s something about a duck cooked specifically for you, that appeals way too much to me. Or maybe I am just a snob! Sitting in the intimate and not so inexpensive atmosphere of the restaurant appeals to my sense of … shall we say… well being? At least, it made up for a day that had gone horribly wrong from early in the morning, and which I don’t want to record here. After all, this blog is to remind me of the good times, not the bad ones!<br />
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Siraj arrived on Friday night, so Saturday morning we let him sleep in. Eric had left on Friday. So that left Jay, Kevin and I to go to the Summer Palace. I had already been here before, but knowing how vast the complex was, I was eager to explore some more. I knew where I wanted to go, across the 17-arch bridge to the South Lake Island, across the lake in a boat, and to the Temple, and finally the theatre. We left early, and were there by 8:15 – though crowds had already started coming in. The day was beautiful – sunny, bright, and no sign of the ugly smog though a slight haze lingered in the breeze. We bought tickets and maps and strolled through the gates.<br />
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Now Kevin forgot his camera, and Jay’s was out of battery. I had my two cameras with me – the little Cannon and my big-ass Sony alpha both loaded with 4GB memory cards, enough to go around. I handed one to each of them and said ‘run away and go play, boys!’ They were so happy with the toys, it was funny. I’d already done a whole bunch of pics here with Jane, but this was a different walk. Along the lake, by the paddle boats, and lotuses along the edge of the Kunming Lake, weeping willows swooping into the waters along the walk. We headed to the 17-arch bridge. A bronze statue of a Sitting Bull stands next to a pavilion. We took pictures beside the bull and then noticed that there was this woman, rubbing her back up and down the railings – was she doing a ‘cow’ thing – scratching her back? An old man sat on a bench nearby with his wife. His bearded face was a composition in serenity and Kevin captured it perfectly. I watched people playing with ribbons, and a big screen – a movie screen – in front of which men and women practices T’ai Chi with fans. We could hear the sound of music from the pavilion leading to the 17-arch bridge. We headed to the pavilion. There was an old man narrating the story, a man playing a flute. I could hear a singer. I walked around the pavilion and noticed this woman who was singing the songs, sitting on the railing around the pavilion, her back to her audience. I whipped out the Canon and started filming her, pretty rudely I might add, as I was right in her face. The flautist turned around and played for me as I filmed him. It was beautiful. Sitting the in shade of the pavilion, the breeze blowing through my hair, the lake in front of me, I could have sat their for a while. Kevin noticed a man filming us – Tourists!! How strange it is to be inside the cage instead of outside. I suggested we give him something to film. But Kevin and Jay wouldn’t play along, so that idea died. Scaredy cats!<br />
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We walked over to the bridge. People were flying kites. The clear skies above the lake are perfect for flying kites and there were dozens of them floating over our heads, in bright colors and shapes and sizes. Strolling across the bridge we came to the Temple of Extensive Rain. Not much to see there, so we headed around the island to where the boats went across the Lake to the other side. Kevin and I chose to sit on the inner row, while Jay chose to sit on the sunny outer side.<br />
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Suddenly, there was a tap on Kevin’s shoulder. Our trio had caught the attention of a family of tourists from inner China. The lady wanted to speak to Kevin. ‘Will you speak to me?’, ‘Of course,’ he replied; and soon there was a tap on my shoulder. Now I am used to the white folks getting the tourist treatment. With my short height, dark hair and skin, I blend in with a lot of Chinese people (especially with a baseball hat on), unless you look at my face. So I was surprised at the tap on my shoulder. It was the daughter. She asked me where I was from, and I said ‘Canada’, she looked puzzled and I said it slowly ‘ Ca-na-da’. And them? She wanted to know. ‘They are from America’ . A few more questions later, they asked us if we would take pictures with them. So Kevin and I posed with them. I looked at the pictures and said ‘hung how!’ (very good!) they were delighted that I could actually say two words in Mandarin - literally!! We ‘xie xie’-d and ‘Qai tzen’-ed our way off the boat. It was a surreal experience for me to be really treated like a tourist. Of course, Jay got a big laugh out of it. So I had to tell them about Jane’s fan club after that. (See my note on Girls’ Day Out).<br />
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We walked along the Long corridor, and I got a little disoriented. The boat had actually dropped us off a little further north than I thought it would. But it was all good. A kindly stranger with a map told us where we were. So we walked along till we came to the Temple of the Fragrance of the Buddha. The last time I had climbed those stairs I’d been on treadmills for a few days and was in a little better shape. This time though, I was back to my old level of non-fitness. So I was a little worried that I would not be able to make it all the way up. Kevin offered to carry my big camera bag, and I gladly gave it to him. We climbed to the top, stopping to take pictures along the way - lots and lots of pictures.<br />
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</span></span><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingSummerPalaceDay2#" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://picasaweb.google.co</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">m/madhumita.routh/BeijingS</span></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span class="word_break" style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">ummerPalaceDay2#</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
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Around the back of the temple, I decided to sit for a while. Jay was busy playing with exposures and apertures. Kevin wanted to explore further, why were the people walking up the hill along THAT path? I told him it was the toilets. He was not convinced. So he had to go explore. From my vantage point on the railing, I could see him walking up the path. I waited for him to reach the top and then called him. He had reached the Hall of Supreme Feces, he said – it WAS the toilets. Jay had followed him up, and I went to join them. We walked along a winding path under the trees, heading downhill. A dirt path took us to a little turret with a magnificent view of the lake. Siraj called then, he was up and about! Down the path, exploring a little cave that had been used as an improvised bathroom, yuk! Finally we reached the Hall of Harmony and Longevity (I think that’s what its called). And sometime in between, Jay asked us where we were in the Sausage Palace (how does summer palace become SAUSAGE palace??). and then… were we in the Hall of Harmonious Incest? I will never look at those pictures again without think of Sausage Palaces and Incest… YIKES!!<br />
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Then we reached the Grand Theatre – I was determined to get some video footage of the inside of that hall. So I set the camera and walked around, providing a commentary along with it. Not the best video, but it will do.<br />
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We headed out, and lo and behold, none of the taxis would go on the meter. A lot of bargaining later, we finally found a cab that would take us back to the hotel for 40 RMB. We headed to the Palm Lounge, and Siraj joined us for lunch. The rest of the after noon we worked. That night we were going to a Chinese restaurant with Allan and Yaw.<br />
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Sunday morning, Siraj and I headed to the Silk Market. And now may I announce the king of bargaining, my friend Siraj! We had little time in which to shop and I had a list of things that I wanted to buy. So we ran around picking up silk robes, sunglasses - a pair of Prada and a pair of Oakley for 100 RMB or about 7USD each, - scarves. I was thrilled. Siraj was able to bargain very effectively with them. Plus the fact that we would speak to each other in Hindi and they could not understand what we were speaking about, gave us the edge. I was so pleased with my purchases. And we were back at the hotel by 12:30. Lunch and then we headed back to work.<br />
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That night we had decided to have dinner at the Tandoor, but first drinks at the Pan Gu – the 7-star hotel that looks like a dragon. I wanted to pay tribute to my Indian heritage, so I donned a sari – much to everybody’s amazement I might add, and I think it had the desired effect :-P Mostly shock and awe!! Big earrings, a slight touch of make up and my shit-kicker shoes completed the outfit. To our disappointment, the restaurant in the Dragon’s Tail was closed, so we had to make do with sitting in the Karma lounge and having drinks there. Then off we went to Tandoor. Chetan, Bob and Li would be joining us there. It was a wonderful evening. The food was good, the conversation was excellent, the company outstanding. I couldn’t have asked for a better outing. Later that night I had to pack, I knew, for now, I was just going to enjoy myself. And I did.<br />
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That was my last night in China for a while. The next day, I flew back to Canada. I’ve packed so many memories into these trips. I hope to have a few more. I know I am not going there this month. Who knows where my next trip will lead me?</span></span></div><div class="photo photo_none" style="clear: both; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="photo_img" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=7544350&op=1&view=all&subj=121390306334&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=121390306334&id=556510625" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class=" " onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" src="http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs114.snc1/5138_220297350625_556510625_7544350_7912071_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 460px;" /></a></div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; color: #666666; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;">The 17-Arch Brige at the Summer Palace</div></div><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></div><div class="photo photo_none" style="clear: both; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="photo_img" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=7544352&op=1&view=all&subj=121390306334&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=121390306334&id=556510625" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class=" " onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" src="http://photos-d.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs114.snc1/5138_220297710625_556510625_7544352_6367968_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 460px;" /></a></div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; color: #666666; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;">Drinks at the Karma Lounge in the Pan Gu Hotel</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 12px;"><br />
</span></span></div></div></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-42207289962446614842010-01-06T18:01:00.000-05:002010-01-06T18:07:47.407-05:00Beijing - Times Three - Pt 1<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 15px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">"And I shall call my snake, Harvey" - Eric Lindenberg - 6/14/2009</span></i></b></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="line-height: normal;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> Friday, June 26, 2009</span></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And no... its not what you think.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: small;"><div style="clear: none; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: small;"> This time Beijing is HOT!! I arrived on a Tuesday evening on an Air Canada flight direct from Toronto. What a difference being up in the air for only 12 hours makes. The time almost flies. It was an excellent flight, and very comfortable, and the food was actually quite good! It says a lot about me when I can call airline food good. However, the movies were still the same, and I decided to spend my time watching 'A Night at the Museum' - pretty funny movie.<br />
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It was a typical evening. I got to the hotel thankfully missing all the rush-hour traffic. Change, a quick shower, and I was ready to go have some food on the Club Lounge. I took my laptop up with me, and while munching on some food, and a cold glass of Bailey’s Eric appeared. He’d been on vacation, the lucky so-and-so and was all tanned and his hair even looked lighter!<br />
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The past few weeks had been a stressful one for me; unfortunately I decided to take it out on Eric. No, I did not yell at him, because Eric makes it very hard for anyone to yell at him. But I did get my point across and he understood my angst pretty well. The next two days went by in typical Beijing fashion.<br />
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However, on Saturday, after a late lunch, we decided to head to the Electronics Market. We’d passed the place quite often on our way to the office – never realizing that this was THE Electronics market. I was going to browse and pick up something for my nephew, so was Eric. We walked into the usual cacophony of vendors wanting to sell us everything from cameras, computers, flash drives, lenses, PS3s, you name it – if it’s electronic – you can find it there. But how much of it was real and how much... fake? We didn’t know. After going up and down the escalators to every floor, we decided that Eric needed a camera. A Chinese girl in broken English offered to show us some more stuff. Now this building is 17 stories high and we had only seen about 7 of them. The rest of the floors were not accessible by escalator. At the top floor we had noticed a restaurant and people coming out of it with packages in their arms. ‘There must be something there’ Eric said. I just dismissed it as people having lunch and heading down. But now this Chinese girl beckoned us into an elevator tucked into the back of the floor.<br />
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We followed her onto it and were whisked away to a higher floor. The floor plan was open with tables set around the floor. There were groups of people at some of the tables, and this we discovered, was the bargaining area. The serious bargaining area. We were looking for a DSLR camera for Eric. I thought he should get a Cannon Rebel EOS. A Chinese gentleman sat down across from us and the bargaining began. Now Eric quite fancies himself as the bargainer. The man quoted us 36,000 RMB for the camera body. I wanted a different one. We scribbled on paper to decide on the model. Then came the price. Eric wrote 250. The man looked at it and went – 250 Dollar? No, said Eric, RMB. He looked so affronted it was hilarious. Then he got up and pointed at the door. ‘You go, now! You are joking.’ And that was my first experience of getting thrown out of a store. We left in hysterics. This was too funny. We finally left the store after buying a small WII steering wheel.<br />
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That night I got a call I had been waiting for. My best friend, since sixth grade was married to Titu. Titu incidentally was in China, and was supposed to be in Beijing over that week. He called me on Saturday evening. We planned to meet up the next morning at 10 after breakfast.<br />
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The next day, I asked Eric and Allan – another of our colleagues - if they wanted to go to the Temple of Heaven with Titu and I. We met up at 10 in the lobby. Having Allan along was a huge plus. He is Chinese, from north of Beijing, though he lives in Canada now. But he speaks Mandarin. No more pointing to the menu and little cards for cabs. Allan told the driver where we wanted to go (though the night before I found out that the Temple of Heaven is called Tien Tan in Chinese – so I could have said ‘chyow tien tan’ to go there!)<br />
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I met Titu in the lobby and we hit it off really well. I hadn’t really conversed with him before. And I could see why Sam would have liked him so much. He is a complete hoot to be with. We set off for the Temple of Heaven, bought our tickets and started walking into the complex. It’s a huge park-like place. The emperor would come here to offer prayers. The whole complex would be closed off and the emperor would pray to the Gods for the rains or harvest or whatever. Sacrifices of animals would be offered and huge firewood burning stoves would be used to burn all wood and everything used in the sacrifices. Somehow I never thought of the Chinese of being pantheistic; or as having any other gods than Buddha. But it seems that they did pray to different gods! But there are no pictures or deities of the gods; just the intricately carved, richly painted interiors of the temples and the five vessels in front of each of the altars signifying the five elements: earth, water, fire, air, and space. The whole complex is surrounded by lush gardens, and we realized that this was a place that people often came for picnics. And the flowers – Beijing in summer is a city of flowers. There were flowerbeds completely covered in flowers of all colors. Just gorgeous. It was a gorgeous day, hot, clear skies with a hint of smog only. Lovely!<br />
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As we walked through the tree lined paths, the cupola of the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvest was visible between the two lines of trees. The North Celestial gate towered over us. A group of Chinese musicians were singing some song and playing some really strange instrument. I took a video of it, and I have not uploaded it yet. But the rest of the pictures are here</span> <span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span><br />
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</span> </span><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingTempleOfHeavenMadhuSPics?feat=directlink" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://picasaweb.google.co</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">m/madhumita.routh/BeijingT</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">empleOfHeavenMadhuSPics?fe</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">at=directlink</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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We walked through the gates and I realized that while the Forbidden City was all about squares, the temple of Heaven is all about circles. There were terraces that led up to each of the temples. All of them were built along a central meridian. Each of the temples are circular, the terraces are circular. All the roofs are a dark blue (religious significance?) and gold – signifying royal. Inside the temple all the pillars are painted rich red background with glittering gold paint. There is richness here, and a sense of pomp and grandeur. Maybe this place is just better maintained. We walked to the next temple – The Imperial Vault of Heaven. Surrounding this one is a wall. If you stand on the meridian facing the altar and clap – it echoes. The wall is quite appropriately called the Echo Wall. The strange thing is if you stand on the first stone – it echoes once, on the second stone, it echoes twice. I went up to three… because there were people all standing around trying to get on those stones and clap.<br />
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A woman caught my eye. She was dressed in the colourful traditional costume of her South East or west Province. I followed her around taking a few shots. She stopped and gave me a pose – quite without realizing it.<br />
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Following our nose Southward, we came to the Circular Mound Altar. This is a flat terraced circular mound! And in the center was a little mound. We all stood on it and took pics – but of course. We are such tourists!<br />
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Leaving the temples behind, we started walking towards the gardens hoping to reach the gates. The shady trees making walking easy, but I realized we’d probably walked a couple of miles easily if not more. We sat for a while in a little area to rest my back that was uneasily painful by now. Then we walked on and on, until we came to a gate and finally outside. We hailed a cab, and came back to the hotel.<br />
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Eric and Allan decided they wanted to go for full body massages. I wanted to download my pictures and just spend some time with Titu – actually getting to know him a little. So we went up to my room, and spent a pleasant few hours chatting. Around 6 we went up to the club floor. There over drinks, Eric proceeded to explain what body massage is in China. I will leave that explanation for my next note. I promise you its R-rated!<br />
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Dinner was going to be at the Hot pot restaurant that Eric and I had found. We walked over to the restaurant. Having Allan around is fun, because he can speak the language, and takes away the pain of pointing to items on restaurant menus when we want food. Eric and he consulted over the menu. Eric wanted snake. UGH!!! I wanted fried rice. Everything else was optional. When we ordered the snake, they said they would bring the snake out for us to see. And so they did. A big, fat snake coiled in a translucent bag. Ewwww… At which point Eric said, “And I shall name my snake, Harvey”. The double-meaning on that one cracked me up. Stupid snake jokes followed – like why Harvey? Why name your SNAKE Harvey? Does he feel like a HARVEY? And so on and so forth. So dinner came, and we tucked in. Hot, Hot Hunan cuisine. Lovely! The donkey’s meat was so spicy; we kept pulling tissues out of the little dispenser placed conveniently on the table. We’d finished eating all the other food before they brought the snake out. It was a big platter – on the edge of which were the chunks of meat pieces. In the center was a mound of dried red chillies. I could not even look at it. In my head I could see the split vertebrae of the snake’s skeleton. But the guys tucked in licking their chops and wiping their faces.<br />
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Dinner over, I had to call it a day. I needed to provide Eric some information, and so while he and Allan and Titu took off to the Olympic park, I went back to the hotel to work!<br />
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Thus it ended, an absolutely wonderful weekend with a little touch of home. Tomorrow was another day. Kevin was due back in town this week. It would be his last trip to China as he wrapped up on the project. We had some fun planned.</span> <br />
</div><div class="photo photo_none" style="clear: both; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div class="photo_img" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=7539592&op=1&view=all&subj=116008096334&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=116008096334&id=556510625" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class=" " onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" src="http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs094.snc1/5138_220096770625_556510625_7539592_7662681_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 460px;" /></a><br />
</div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; color: #666666; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">In the Temple of Heaven</span><br />
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</div></div></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-77824568300989458042010-01-06T17:53:00.000-05:002010-01-06T18:02:27.147-05:00Beijing - Second Time Around - Pt 4<span style="color: #333333; font-weight: bold; line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Girls' Day Out</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i> <span style="font-size: medium;">Friday, May 29, 2009 </span></i></span></span></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;">This is my last weekend on this trip. Can't believe I've been here three weekends.. Way too long for a person to be in another country. I am homesick already.</span><br />
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This week I have Bob and Jane with me. Bob and Jane are great people to work with - sharp, fun, witty and totally over the top. Eric and Kevin - my other two friends have gone back to the US. Kevin left with a bad case of bronchitis, Eric - well I think Eric got some ear-chewing from me. Haven't heard back from him, though I have talked to Kevin since. He's on antibiotics and in the loving arms of his family... he'll be alright!<br />
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Bob decided to go solo this Saturday, so Jane and I met for a leisurely breakfast. We decided to go to the Summer Palace. This was one place I'd been told was a must-see. I was holding it back for my next trip, but then, what was I supposed to do all day? I was waiting on some production runs to happen in the afternoon. Figured I could take the morning off.<br />
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So Jane and I headed out to the Palace. It lies to the West of the city of Beijing and covers over 290 hectares and surrounds the Kunming Lake. The word Palace is a misnomer. The whole thing is what in the US/Canada would have been called a state park. Acres of land, with walks, and palaces and theaters and pagodas. We took a taxi to the Summer palace. Now, if you want to go sightseeing in Beijing, plan on reaching there by 8:30 am. It’s a lot less crowded. As we came up to the palace, we saw hordes of people - tourists, like us - headed towards the gate. A full access ticket costs about 60 RMB or $9-and-change, because certain parts require special tickets to enter. We bought the full-access tickets and moving along through the hordes of clicking tourists, Jane and I entered the park. We'd bought a map at the ticket counter too. It was an artistic map that marked all the different palaces and temples and bridges, painted in the light, delicate brush strokes of Chinese artwork. All the names were poetic and a little 'fumbly' - they don’t flow fluently off the tongue. If you go to the numerous pictures of the summer palace on the web, you will see that the whole area is architected to blend in with the lush, rolling landscape. There are tree-covered hills, and long covered corridors, and pavilions and temples rising majestically over them all.<br />
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The first place we wanted to visit was the palace of Happiness and Longevity. As we entered the courtyard, Jane explained to me what those curious door stops meant - it was to stop the goblins from entering, because they couldn’t bend their knees! – I thought it was to stop anyone from rushing the emperor… hmmm…live and learn. The palace of Happiness and Longevity contains the Grand Theatre. The theatre is a central building surrounded by a courtyard, surrounding which were the “inner” apartments. The central building itself is three stories high. The theatre itself is dim and gloomy, even a little musty. Even with a high quality DSLR, I couldn’t get good pictures, until I turned on the flash, and had my back to the light. We wandered into the main apartments. A rich bed covered in a silk spread faced the stage. Behind it was a gorgeous yellow hand-painted silk screen. I took a picture of Jane as she entered, quite failing to see the “No Photo” sigh on the bed. This room was gorgeous, with intricately carved partitions, and mirrors. I took a picture, and then not quite satisfied with it, I deleted it. Big Mistake. As I aimed for the next shot, I heard a voice behind me go, “No photos” – blech.. Now I didn’t even have a half-satisfactory shot of it. The camera hung from my neck as we went around a highly carved wooden screen. Holding it at my waist, keeping the flash off, I clicked. And go one of the best pictures I could have. It was beautiful!<br />
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Check out the pictures from my trip to the Summer Palace at<br />
</span></span> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingSummerPalaceMadhuSPics#" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">http://picasaweb.google.co</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">m/madhumita.routh/BeijingS</span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><wbr></wbr></span></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">ummerPalaceMadhuSPics#</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br />
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Something struck me as we wandered around. There is a sameness to the architecture of these ancient palaces and forts and cities. They all tend to look the same after a while. While the intricate details hold meaning, it still ends up looking the same. We saw some fabulous pottery and some very tacky ones. But you know what? Despite the way these places are decorated - despite the use of lush fabrics like silk and satin; and the intricate detail of each artistic brush stroke or carving - there seems to be a distinct lack of sensuality to it all. There is almost an austerity and strictness to it, that is... cold! I don't know, maybe its just me. Its beautiful, but there is a frigidity, an iciness to this beauty. There is no sense of debauchery or over-indulgence that one would associate with royalty and nobility in most cultures. Compare it to the sculpture of Khajuraho and you will know what I mean.<br />
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And one more thing – while wandering around the Forbidden City both Eric and Kevin told me essentially the same thing – I would have gone mad if I had been living in that time and place. Those constrictions would have killed me. Jane and I both agreed, that if we had to live that life – yes, we would have gone mad for sure.<br />
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Wandering out, we followed the map to the Tempe of the Fragrance of the Buddha. We went through a doorway, and in front of us was the long corridor.<br />
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Okay, yes, it IS called the Long Corridor. An awning covered long walk to protect the people from the elements. Intricate wood carvings on the roofs, and two pagoda style gazebos marked this walk. To our left lay Lake Kunming. It was a leisurely stroll through the hot summer day. We decided to walk beside the corridor instead of inside it – just too many tourists with too many bullhorns! The lake was beautiful, and the tall trees afforded some welcome shade in the hot humid weather, as the day was horrendously smoggy. There were all kinds of boats on the lake. In the distance was the 17-arch bridge, and it connected the mainland to the South Island. I decided it was time to bring out the zoom lenses. So Jane and I sat down by the corridor, as so many people were doing, while I pulled the big lenses out. Switching lenses, I walked over to the parapet, and took a few snaps. A group of tourists were sitting on the corridor railings right above Jane. They were surprised to see a ‘foreigner’ with as big a camera as mine was. See, mostly it’s the Chinese and the Japanese that have these big-ass cameras (Eric… this one is for you). The tour guide asked Jane in broken English where we were from and so a small conversation started. We started to leave and someone said, ‘I love you!’ to Jane. It cracked us up. I took a photo of them for Jane and posterity.<br />
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We followed the crowds until we reached the entrance to the Temple of the Fragrance of the Buddha. It is said the Empress Cixi would offer prayers at this temple. Once again, we needed to present our tickets for access. Which would mean a lot fewer crowds. The Temple rises high into the hill-side and a veritable complex is around it. Stairs led up to the base of the temple – lots of stairs. I was worried that I would not make it. Jane of course, works out daily as a rule, so she is much better shape than I am. We started up the stairs. They are shorter than regular stairs and I found that I could easily walk up them. 2, 3, 4 stories high and we reached the base of the temple. There were still more stairs to climb, forming a pattern that is visible from afar – as we saw later. Taking a breather, we started up the next set of stairs. It was easier this time around. We climbed to the top, Jane encouraging me for the last few yards. Then before us was a vista that was Beijing to the left and mountains to the right. Gorgeous. We walked into the temple. Its octagonal shape invites you to walk around. Inside was a 12’ tall Buddha – called the Buddha with a 1000 arms. The head was almost like a Trimurti – except there were 12 heads, in four levels and 12 pairs of arms. Thought the hands do not hold any artifact – the Vishnu-like aspect of this Buddha was not lost on me. People walked in and prayed. It was almost like being in a Hindu temple! No pictures allowed here either, although we could take pics from the corridor outside. So we did.<br />
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Then we climbed back down taking the other set of stairs. Outside I was feeling de-hydrated, and we found some vendors selling water. A cold bottle of water, and we were on our way to our boat ride. We found one that went to South Island and back, and 15 minutes on the water cooled us down.<br />
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As we headed back out of the Summer Palace, we decided to go to Silk Market. I still needed to shop for gifts.<br />
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Silk Market was all I remembered it to be, the usual haggling for stuff, and asking for outrageously low prices was fun and soon loaded down with purchases, we stepped out for some food. We didn’t have margaritas this time. But we found a place that did some excellent burgers – an ‘Australian’ place! Then it was back to the hotel. I had needed a shower, and I was burned and tanned. Ah yes, we Indians DO tan – and I have the tan lines to prove it! Besides I had to pack. I had a plane to catch the next day. I was finally homeward bound. </span></span> <br />
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</div><div class="photo photo_left" style="clear: left; float: left; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 5px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 10px; padding-top: 2px; width: 180px;"><div class="photo_img" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=7140077&op=1&view=all&subj=107204466334&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=107204466334&id=556510625" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" src="http://photos-g.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs006.snc1/4427_204485850625_556510625_7140077_150402_a.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;" /></a><br />
</div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; color: #333333; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: small;">The temple of the Fragrance of the Buddha from Kunming Lake</span><br />
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</div></div></i></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-51783723303838903472010-01-06T17:47:00.008-05:002010-01-31T07:07:16.673-05:00Beijing - Second Time Around - Pt 3<div class="photo_img" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; line-height: 14px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; mso-line-height-alt: 7.7pt;"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">Beijing Times Two: "The closer you get, the bigger it gets" - Eric Lindenberg, May 10th, 2009</span></i></b><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;"><b><i><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"> Friday, May 15, 2009</span></i></b><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; mso-line-height-alt: 7.2pt;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; mso-line-height-alt: 7.2pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;">I will explain that quote in a minute.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; mso-line-height-alt: 7.2pt;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><br />
Saturday night - we'd done our favourite thing - Peking Duck at the Made in China! For me this will be the essence of my Chinese trips.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><br />
But first I need to find my way to the Mutianyu Great Wall of China. Sunday dawned a little muggy. Saturday night we had decided to meet for breakfast at 6:30 and head to the Great Wall by 7:00 am. Having been to the Badaling section of the Great wall before, Kevin wanted to start out early to beat the hordes of tourists we knew would be on their way to see the wall. So at 7:00 am fortified with breakfast and take away cups of coffee, Eric, Kevin and I headed to the Great wall. The concierge negotiated a cab for us, that would take us there, and stay there until we finished and bring us back to the hotel.<br />
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The ride was beautiful. As soon as we left Beijing behind, we were in farmland. Trains, a few cars, little towns that strangely reminded me of little towns in India - we passed through all of them.<o:p></o:p></span></div><br />
<a href="http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=6920211&op=1&view=all&subj=103339526334&aid=-1&auser=0&oid=103339526334&id=556510625" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;"><img alt="" class=" " onload="var img = this; onloadRegister(function() { adjustImage(img); });" src="http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs033.snc1/4314_195600355625_556510625_6920211_2746366_n.jpg" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; display: block; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; width: 460px;" /></a></div><div class="caption" style="border-bottom-width: 0px; border-color: initial; border-color: initial; border-left-width: 0px; border-right-width: 0px; border-style: initial; border-style: initial; border-top-width: 0px; clear: none; color: #666666; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px; text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Me at the start of the Great Wall at Mutianyu.</span><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">The km long journey brought us closer and closer to the fog covered hills. We could see how lush and green they were. The ride up to the bottom of the hill was surprisingly short - we didnt climb much. We got out, got our tickets and then then started the uphill climb to the cable cars. Let me tell you this: that climb is not easy. I was breathing very heavily and had to lean on both of them to pull me up the very steep incline. And then we were at the cable cars. They didnt open till 8:30 am.. so we were some of the first people up in the cars. Both the men suffer from sea sickness... I was totally fine with letting them both sit facing uphill while I faced downhill. The car rose above the lush green foliage all around us, that was a strange mix of some tropical trees that I recognized and some that were clearly from a more temperate climate. The sun had just started to rise up above the hills to our right - the east. We could make out the crenelled outlines of the wall along the spine of the mountain. It was an amazing sight! I was actually here - at the Great wall of China!</span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">Both Kevin and Eric always call their families first thing in the morning. I told Kevin I had a plan. I was going to call my parents from on top of the Great Wall. Eric laughed at me - would I get enough bars there? The cable car swung to a halt. We got out and headed out. A few steps up - steep steps, those, we turned a corner - and lo and behold, the first thing you see as you step on the Great Wall of China is....a row of Port-a-potties.. I just had to take a pic! </span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"> </span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">That day is posted on my picasaweb page at <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingGreatWallOfChina20090510" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">http://picasaweb.google.co<wbr></wbr>m/madhumita.routh/BeijingG<wbr></wbr>reatWallOfChina20090510#</a></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">I will be adding snaps that both Kevin and Eric took later into this collection - so look out for it.</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">The view from that point on was breathtaking. We could see the wall snaking away to the east and to the west. This section of the Wall actually stopped marauders from the North. It was OLD!! The three of us whipped out our phones. Sure enough - enough bars! - and started dialing. It was such a great feeling to be standing there on the Great Wall and calling my mother on a cell phone! I took pictures of Eric and Kevin calling their families - they could give it to their kids and say - look, Daddy was calling you here!</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">We started walking towards the North. The air was a bit cool - not jacket inducing, though. We walked down steps worn down by thousands of years of people traversing them. They were not even, and the edges were the best places to walk. The centers were sometimes an inch think to three-inches thick. Even with the constant jibing-joshing-insulting relationship that is there between the three of us, at some point, we had to stop in awe and just stare. To the right, jagged peaks rushed up to the sky. To the left the hills rolled away to the bottom to a small valley. We walked through tiny doors, and tinier rooms. Kevin's big frame filled every doorway we went through.</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">I let my imagination free. Leaning against a battlement, I looked out. I could almost see the hordes of soldiers rushing the wall. Trying desperately to claw their way up - maybe using ladders. Behind me on the wall, I could see the soldiers leaping and running across the battlements, some of them lying on their stomachs shooting arrows out of the little vents onto the unprotected enemy below. Others rushed around protecting one segment of the wall and then another - dressed in gaudy robes, little white and black shoes, with their pigtails flying in the wind. What a life it must have been! What must it have meant to be a soldier in those days?</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">We continued on, to a little turret. Inside it was dark, and the Chinese must have been very small people. Kevin had to bend down to get through some of the doorways. One of the turrets was like a little maze. We wandered off, and then I could hear them calling me. I couldnt find them - until I noticed a steep flight of steps leading to the roof. Steep as in 3' high steps. They had found those steps and decide to explore. I helping hand later, and I was up there. Pictures all around. However, the aforementioned hordes of tourists had started arriving. Loud, loud tourists, mostly Chinese, but also quite a few white people! At one point, we exchanged pleasantries with a middle-aged American (or was that Canadian?) couple. Isn't the great wall amazing? its the one place in China that you can go to and speak to perfect strangers in English!</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">We continued on, but I was tiring. Besides I wanted a little 'me' time. So the guys dumped their jackets with me, and continued on to the next turret. I leaned against the wall and just relaxed. The sun was on my skin, I could hear bees buzzing and birds chirping. It was growing a little hot and I was feeling a little drowsy. Tourists were coming fast and thick now. For some reason they came downhill to 'my' corner and nearly bumped into me, all the while their eyes on the jackets at my feet. It was WEIRD!! But I had some time to kill and I was amused. Almost forty minutes went by, and then they returned. We were tired, but happy. It had been a wonderful day.</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">But it wasn't over yet.</span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">Returned to the hotel, a quick freshen up and lunch. I was hungry for some good ole American food - so a burger it was for me. Then we decided to go to the Olympic Village. Our hotel is almost next to the Bird's nest. Evidently, NBC had booked the entire hotel during the Olympics! Who knew - maybe Brian Williams had my room? or Matt Lauer - ohhh yeahh!! <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space">It was time to see the Bird's Nest - up close and personal <span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingOlympicVillage" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank">http://picasaweb.google.co<wbr></wbr>m/madhumita.routh/BeijingO<wbr></wbr>lympicVillage#</a></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
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<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingOlympicVillage" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" style="cursor: pointer;" target="_blank"></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">We walked along the street up to the Bird's nest. That structure of iron grids criss-crossing gives you such a feel for the organic nature of the architecture of Beijing. There are buildings shaped like swans, and dragons, and bird's nests... well its amazing to say the least. As we walked closer to the stadium we realized just how large it was. It was at this point, that Eric dropped his profoundly irrelevant comment 'The closer you get, the bigger it gets'... however the double entendre in this sentence wasn't entirely lost on Kevin and myself - and we just cracked up. Until Eric dropped another one - this time it was his wallet. But again, as he puts it - 'I didn't drop it, gravity took it!' I wont have enough space on these notes to write about his other profoundly absurd witticisms, but .. I'll give it my best shot.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;">We went inside the Stadium and wandered around the gift shops. Kevin needed to buy stuff, and buy stuff he did! Back to the hotel for a tall glass of brew, and our day was over. Another beautiful day gone.. but wonderfully. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b><br />
<b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #666666; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 11px; line-height: 12px;"><b><i><b><i></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><b><i><b><i><div class="byline" style="clear: both; display: inline !important; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 2px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i><span style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><div class="clear_none" style="clear: none; display: inline !important; line-height: 14px; padding-bottom: 10px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><div style="display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 0cm; margin-left: 0cm; margin-right: 0cm; margin-top: 0cm;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><div style="display: inline !important;"><span style="color: black; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="color: #3b5998; text-decoration: none;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: black;"><span class="apple-converted-space">Kevin returned back to the US this week. I will miss his big beary presence as he rolls off this project. But.. I think I will be seeing him again, and we'll laugh about these days in China.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></span></span></span></div></div></span></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div></span></i></b></span></div></i></b></i></b></div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-51858470149976440432010-01-06T17:39:00.001-05:002010-01-31T06:36:11.195-05:00Beijing - Second Time Around - Pt 2<span style="color: #333333; font-weight: bold; line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Beijing Times Two: No speak English!!</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Sunday May 10th, 2009</i></span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today was the first time we had some downtime in our project. At least some of us did. We're moving to Production this week, and several tasks have to be completed before we can start running our stuff. Meantime, what do we do? Why, go sightseeing of course.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <br />
When I first came on this project, Kevin had promised to show me around Beijing. We met for breakfast - Kevin, Eric and I - and were planning out our day. Eric had to work, so that left the two of us to our own devices. Kevin proposed going to Tianenmen Square and the Forbidden city and then some quality shopping time at the Silk Street market. Of course I jumped at the chance. Soon we were on our way. The day was not very hot, and a cool breeze was springing up. The taxi drive to the Tienanmen Square was uneventful. I could not get over how different the architecture is here in Beijing as compared to the US or Canada. I found that I had to take a few pictures of the streets and then of course, I had to take pictures of buses and so on...<br />
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This time I brought along with me my DSLR baby. Its a Sony Alpha 100 that I had bought about two years ago, and came with 2 lenses - a 35-70 and a 75-300 zoom. In addition I had two more lenses that I used to use with my old Minolta 300si. The downside is I have to carry it in a very big bag. I'd already tested out the battery with some shots outside my hotel room. They came out good. I was good to go!<br />
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Tienanmen Square is a HUGE place. Flat. Flagged. A cenotaph stands at one corner. And it faces the Forbidden City/Imperial Gardens. Hordes of tourists were everywhere. And there were the usual mob of people trying to sell you anything from fake Olympic medals to statuettes to "art" to ... you get the picture. I was so at home! Crossing the street was like crossing a street in India. Chaotic. And then the mob of hawkers - 'You go to Great Wall?' 'You need guide? I speak English'. ' I show you Forbidden city?' I advised Kevin to not make eye contact with these people and be completely unresponsive. With his height it should be easy. But Kevin is an easy-going guy. He did respond, and I usually had to keep walking to make him come along with me. 'You want hat?' Of course, I wanted hat! I had to have a hat. So I turned around. A middle-aged Chinese woman was holding out a bunch of baseball hats. 'Duo zhou chen?' I asked her 'How much yuan?' 'Fifty' she replied..Hmmm... about 8 USD! Nah.. I held up my right hand with the index finger crossed over the middle finger - Chinese sign for 10. 'Ten yuan'. She looked disheartened.. I upped it to Fifteen - Deal!! Yes!! My first bargain in China.. A baseball hat for less that two dollars, red with the word Beijing on it! I was such a tourist!<br />
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We clicked pictures and walked across the massive courtyard headed to the Forbidden city. A giant portrait of Chairman Mao stared at us across the square from the walls of the forbidden city. What a feeling it must have been to see 6,000,000 people crammed into the square as he declared the Republic of China. Pretty mind-boggling.<br />
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To get to the forbidden city, one has to go underground and then come up. I held on to Kevin's arm because the crowd was scaring me a little, and I didn't want to get separated from him. All of a sudden he turns to me and says 'Did you see that?' 'What?' I asked. A prostitute had evidently propositioned him! WOW!! and him with a girl on his arm. These women were BRAZEN with brass cojones!!<br />
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The Forbidden city spreads out like a humongous maze. Courtyard after courtyard, golden tiled roofs, flagged floors, thrones, dragons, ... and lions. The predominant colors were red and gold and green and blue. Everywhere. It was a sight to behold. And people milling around. Packs of baseball hatted tourists following their tour guides holding up little blue, green, red, or yellow flags, like a sea of lemmings. But the romance of the place got to me. I walked into one of the courtyards. Down the center of the yard, was a path that only the emperor or the empress would have walked. I walked down arms spread, eyes closed. I could soooo be an empress. The courtyards had been restored around the central walkways, but off to the side there were still bricks from centuries ago. I could imagine thousands of soldiers kneeling there as their emperor walked down the central flags of stone. The romance of the place was getting to me. Kevin had been there before, and he told me little anecdotes about each of the courtyards, and which were the best places to see the certain things, like thrones and rooms. A huge slope from the final doors was carved intricately with dragons and all sorts of symbols. Around the main courtyards were the inner rooms and courtyards. And these led to little cul-de-sacs. Each doorway had a wooden bar at the bottom, sometimes with a step on the outside. I wondered if they were to stop anybody rushing the emperor. You could hurt yourself falling down those stairs. The rooms had artifacts around them that depicted life during the times of the longest line of emperors in the world. We wandered around, admiring the incredible details on the roofs, and the walls. Great big read doors, set with golden knobs opened out into yet another courtyard. The were huge copper vats, painted with gold that gathered rain water. People were touching the heads of the dragons on those vats. We took pictures of each of us doing the same. Wonder if it brought luck? Then we wandered into the gardens at the back. There were trees that grew gnarled and old twined into each other. One tree had been grafted into another. The paving on the paths had intricate designs mosaics. I couldn't stop clicking.<br />
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See my pics at </span> <a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/BeijingForbiddenCity#" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "8642258158facb23d76a1f2d5f29e620", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://picasaweb.google.co<wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">m/madhumita.routh/BeijingF<wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">orbiddenCity#</span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
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We spent a few hours there, and then decided to head out. We came out at the back of the Forbidden City. Immediately we were accosted by throngs of just about everybody selling everything. It was frightening and not to mention, hilarious. I held on to Kevin's arm and said, keep walking, eyes forward, do not respond. I was holding his right arm feeling that I had to protect him from all this mayhem! It was definitely like being in India - except the jabbering was all in either Chinese or heavily accented English. Suddenly, this woman rushed out of nowhere trying to push me away. I responded with a well-placed elbow in her mid-riff. We wanted to go the Silk Street Market, and no cab was willing to go. We walked along. Suddenly another guy appears out of nowhere, offering to show us the Great Wall. I got very annoyed. This was worse than it is in India. At which point I had a brain-wave. I turned around and yelled at him - abbey, chaltna hai ki nahin? Kab se dimag khaye jaa raha hai.. teri ma-ki to.. -- which roughly translated meant get the hell lost! He looked at me and said 'I dont understand you'. to which I turned around and said ' No speak English'. As soon as we turned the corner, we just cracked up... It was wayyyyy too funny. We had turned down a side street, lined with trees. We could see inside houses, life in China! and somehow I was reminded of Russell Street in Calcutta - just not so posh. We walked for a good fifteen minutes, till I spotted a taxi. We hailed it and then we were on our way to Silk Street. It really wasn't that close, was it, Kevin?<br />
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The taxi dropped us off at a busy crossing, and now we had this eight lane street to go across. There were no pedestrian crossings at that signal. But we noticed people gathering at the lights waiting to cross. So we waited along with them. It was a good ten minutes before the lights changed. We sprinted across the street. Kevin knew a little Mexican restaurant, and decided we were going to have lunch there. A big pitcher of margarita was starting to sound just about right. We walked down the tree-lined street and found the place. Enchiladas, tacos and Margaritas later, we crossed the street to enter the Silk street Market.<br />
<br />
If you've been to New Market in Calcutta, you know the feeling. It's just spread across quite a few floors. Kevin needed something for his wife, and their neighbours. We were accosted by salespeople almost from the moment we stepped inside. As I said, Kevin is BIG and very American! So as soon as we stepped through the doors...we got MOBBED!! okay ..not quite mobbed, but definitely, a feeling of having to push your way through narrow corridors lined with stores and very very persistent hawkers. Each floor in the Silk Street Market usually sells different kinds of wares. We went downstairs to the luggage/bags level. We had a game plan. I would speak in Hindi, Kevin would be speaking gibberish, and we'd pretend that we'd come to a conclusion about whether we were buying or not. We were also looking for a specific "make" of bag. Remember - these are all knock-offs! The way you bargain in China is they will offer you something - typed on a calculator. You wipe it out, and type out your offer - I started at 10% of original price. As we walked down, one female asked me if I spoke English and turned around and went 'habla espanol?' well she just flipped into Spanish!! Imagine my surprise, as we quickly walked away. Finally we found a store that had the bags Kevin was looking for. The storekeeper was a little girl that came up to my ears. We found the bags and the haggling started. Kevin and I did our 'talking' in our incomprehensible languages - of course, that gave us some advantage because they didn't understand what we spoke about. This little thing, at point was poking Kevin in the chest going 'You big man...You killing me.. you give me very little money!' soooo funny. Minutes of bargaining later, we finally got three bags for 285 yuan.. very good!! I'd spotted a laptop wheelie that I wanted. Now was my time to bargain. She was asking for 2000+... we walked away with her yelling 200 yuan at us. Around a corridor and then a quick confab.. I really wanted the bag. It was pretty and for $30... not bad at all. We came back, and got it.<br />
<br />
Up to the clothes department. We found a beautiful silk robe for his wife. The fabrics were just fabulous! I could see us making beautiful sarees or blouses out of them. The men's suit fabrics were also incredible. Of course, I am going back there next weekend. I hadn't shopped at all. But next week it would be Eric that would be there,and this I have to see. Eric can drive a very hard bargain. So I am looking forward to doing another round at the Silk market. But today, we felt vindicated. We walked out and got a cab. Back to the hotel.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow - it was going to be the Great Wall at Mutianyu.</span> </span></b></span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-22076652843037143102010-01-01T08:36:00.001-05:002010-01-31T07:08:34.362-05:00Beijing - Second Time Around - Pt 1<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>Foot Massage = Team Building Exercise</i></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><b><i>May 7th, 2009</i></b></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333;"><span style="line-height: 15px;"><b><span style="font-weight: normal; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Aha! I knew that would grab everybody's attention!<br />
<br />
So I am back in Beijing.<br />
<br />
It's been a rough week. Most days I would stay up till 2/3/4 in the morning, discussing stuff with the people in China and India. Then up by 5:30 am to check emails, and on calls from 9 in the morning till 12 almost everyday. Noon time, I'd try a little sleep, but then the phone wouldn't stop ringing. It was all getting in the way of my functioning properly. Thanks to Rupali who decided I need a break and a pedicure on Sunday. It relaxed me enough to send me on my way on Tuesday morning. But Monday night, I was on calls till 2 am... a 6:30 flight was almost unimaginable. I decided to catch a few and make the 9:30 - on which I was originally booked.<br />
<br />
The flight from T.O. to Newark was delayed. I had exactly 40 minutes to run from one terminal to the other, and pick up something from the duty free. And I did it. Unlike last time, this time the plane was packed. Next to me was a Vientamese American boy in his twenties, going to China on an exchange program. Beside him was a Chinese-American going home to her parents. We had a good time talking to each other, and I picked up another bit of Mandarin - sign language. The Chinese sign their numbers with one hand - no two handed signs like us plebes. One more new thing. I worked a little, slept a lot and found the time to catch up on the emails I'd downloaded before leaving. Down on the ground, on time. There were long lines this time.. health check for the swine flu and then immigration, get my bags, grab a cab, and head to the hotel.<br />
<br />
This time I got a club level room on the 16th floor. To my immense delight, this room faced the entire Olympic park - the Pangu hotel, the Water Cube, the Bird's nest and the alphabet buildings which had housed the Olympic athletes. The room is huge, and a bathroom that is BIG. It even had a separate shower stall and a bath tub big enough for two. A king sized bed. Man, I was in hotel heaven. I unpacked, showered and plugged in my laptop. About 150 emails! Groan!! I'd only been away for like 20 hours from my computer. I also jumped into Meebo.. my IM gateway. Right away I got pinged. It was Eric. He'd arrived on Sunday - and was madly glad that I was in town. I started combing through the emails while receiving pings from India. Very soon, Kevin came online. We were gonna have dinner together as soon as they got back from work.. but first drinks in the club lounge on the 17th.<br />
<br />
So up I went. Kevin was already there, and we played catch up - with him telling me all the wonderful stuff - WORK - I believe its called, that had happened while I was up in the air. Eric arrived soon after, and two glasses of wine later, the three of us went down for dinner to the Brazilian restaurant. It was as good as I remembered. That night we decided to take the calls from my room. Needless to say, the boys both had massive cases of room envy!<br />
<br />
The next day - today - was work day. I found my rhythm quickly. Breakfast at eight. Answer emails. Head out the door. We're almost into production now.. this weekend actually. And that's why I was back so soon. Work quickly caught up with me. Eric needed something, so did Kevin and so did a few dozen people. Ah well...<br />
<br />
We got home, changed, had a drink in the lounge and then headed out. We needed to relax. What better way than to get a foot massage? So off we went to a foot massage place just around the corner.<br />
<br />
Now most of you have seen my earlier note about the 'special' massages on offer. Not at this place, or at least not that we were aware of. But this had to be one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. Never having been to a massage parlor (a spa in the US dont count!) before, I didn't quite know what to expect. Which was a good thing. I would perhaps not have had the courage to go through with it. But now that I've done it... you know what? i'm going back for more!!<br />
<br />
We walked into the parlor and they asked us what we would like. Now remember, we dont speak Mandarin, and they speak little English. A business transaction like this one can get quite lost in translation. We asked for three foot massages. The lady at the desk led us down a hall to a room. Three big loungey chairs with ottomans were in the room. On the opposite wall was a big screen TV. We sat in the chairs me in the center with the guys on either side. We were getting our massages together??!! Bit awkward, that! But that was just the start. Soon after the girl came in again - what would we like to drink? I opted for a bottle of water, Eric wanted tea and Kevin wanted diet coke. Those arrived along with a couple of trays of the sweetest watermelon. We sat there talking flipping through channels. About five minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A young girl about 5'10" tall walked in, carrying a tub of hot water. She was followed by a young boy..and another young girl. The two girls went to the two men on either side, the guy was for me..!! Ulp!!<br />
<br />
They had us put our feet in the water and then walked out. By the way, it was almost synchronous - the way they did it. We sat there, feet soaking in very hot tea water. A few minutes later they came back in and helped us turn around and sit on the ottomans. Feet still in water, they proceeded to give us back rubs. OH.. MY... GOD....!! It felt soooo good! I could feel his fingers digging and finding all the knots in my back. I was melting. My eyes were closed, and as I felt his fingers working into the back of my neck, I removed the band around my hair and allowed him to dig his fingers into my scalp. Oh yes...... I could get to like this very very much. I don't know how long that was before I was helped back into the chair. I lay there, eyes closed, wondering what was next. They took our feet out of the water, and then dried and proceeded with the foot massage. But it wasnt just a foot massage. I felt him leaning over me, and then he started to massage my arms... strong fingers digging into my biceps - did I really have that many knots? None of us were making a sound at this point. It was hard for me not to say anything. But I could hear one of my friends being asked by his 'girl' if he was from America? how long was he going to be there? First trip to Beijing? hmmm... she was soo hitting on him!! I peeked at her, and was a little perturbed to find her sitting on the ottoman - her short skirt had ridden up her thights, and you could see the bare flesh between her stockings and her skirt..okayyyyy.... this was a little uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
But I soon lost sight of that, as my masseuse gave me the most delicious arm workout. Then it was on to the feet. They hurt. Literally. But then they relaxed oh so nicely.. My feet were all tingly now... The soles of my feet were mmmmmm....<br />
<br />
Then came the part that I absolutely did not expect. This was the leg massage part of it.. oh dear... i was fighting hard to keep any sound coming out of my mouth, as he just went for the knots on my quadriceps and calves. Oh my God! the fourteen hours of sitting cramped in a coach seat were soooo worth this moment in relaxation heaven. He found knots and worked them out. Ninety minutes later, we were done - all at the same time! Wow!!<br />
<br />
I had to be helped out of my chair.. My legs were like noodles, all soft and spongy. We came out, paid up. Then it was on to our favourite dive for dinner. Rice, a big bowl of chicken soup and a big meatball. And two bottles of beer - remember Chinese beer comes in those India sized bottles. We definitely felt good. Back to hotel now... and more work, conference calls. But you know what? I'm going back there again. As a team bonding experience - it was the most bizarre of all. However, I realized that I had these two wonderful men in my team that I could trust implicitly. I think and hope that we all will stay friends - even after this project is over... How could we not? We got foot massages together, for crying out loud!!<br />
<br />
Cheers to that!!</span></span></b></span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-61613718680565561472010-01-01T08:33:00.000-05:002010-01-06T17:50:16.592-05:00Beijing - A New Day in A new Country - Pt Trois<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">Safety Valve = Peking Duck</span></b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">April 27th, 2009</span></b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A week of this torturous lifestyle goes by.<br />
<br />
Some evenings we go down to the hotel bar, or up to the concierge level and have a drink, but nothing in the way of a party.<br />
<br />
The weekend dawned grey and misty. My room faces the highway, and it doesn’t have a very good view. But Kevin and Eric have rooms facing out towards the Bird’s Nest. Beyond that, you can see the Pangu Plaza. Check out this pic on </span><a href="http://www.thebeijinger.com/files/u1384/panguTOP.jpg" onmousedown="UntrustedLink.bootstrap($(this), "6636ddf40f542de4b87812e370ec586a", event)" rel="nofollow" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">http://www.thebeijinger.co</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><wbr></wbr></span><span style="display: block; float: left; margin-left: -10px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">m/files/u1384/panguTOP.jpg</span></a><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The Dragon’s head is the tall building on the left. The tail has a 7-star hotel, and an incredibly expensive restaurant. The head has 5 story high videos on the side. On a good day, that is a good pic. On a wet day, we couldn’t even see those screens. We had decided to work that day. It was pointless going sightseeing anyway. Imagine going all the way to the Great Wall and seeing squat. A late breakfast and off we went. We worked till around 5:30 in the evening, and then tried to rush back to the hotel. Work had gone fairly well, and Kevin and I were feeling rather optimistic.<br />
<br />
On his previous trip, Kevin’s wife had discovered the best Peking duck in town - at a restaurant called Made in China at the Grand Hyatt in downtown Beijing. We’d made reservations for Peking Duck (yeah, cause it takes a long time to cook) for Saturday. So I cleaned up and headed down, and met up with the rest of the folks from our team. There were six of us, and we headed out in two taxis. Oh yes, Chinese regulations do not allow more than three people per taxi. Makes for a comfortable ride.<br />
<br />
We went South, and once off the highway, we were in the heart of the city. This was more like it. It looked like any other big metropolis, crowds of people walking by. Big European haute couture names in big splashy billboards, shiny lights, lit-up buildings. But on the street side, there were rows of stalls selling what looked like kebabs. I don’t know what the meat was – it smelt very very good. There was cacophony of people hawking the meat, cars honking, and a general hustle and bustle, that was just pretty amazing – but also somewhat familiar. We went down a broad avenue, with a park down the center. Beijing is a very green city. People were walking their dogs, babies in strollers and arms, people living their lives, in general. We passed a street with of all things – a 7-11! It was too weird to see such a familiar sight. Kevin pointed out to me the little doors set into the walls. One was open and I glimpsed a narrow alleyway behind it. It’s called a hutong, And suddenly you realize that there is a whole different city behind those walls. The overhead electricity wires were everywhere. People cycled by with – I guess in India we’d call it a thela – cart at the back of the bicycles. Electric street cars zigged and zagged through the streets. They don’t run on rails, so they move through the traffic, sometimes quite perilously close to our taxi. We even saw a CBS bus – which was a huh! Moment to say the least.<br />
<br />
The Hyatt is a big hotel, and we walked into the restaurant. Oh my God! It was beautiful. The restaurant is large, but built in such a way that there are intimate nooks everywhere. The walls are a deep red and the recessed lighting adds to the intimate feel. As you enter, the bar is on the left, and behind it there is the cellar. It reminded me of the Aureole in the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas. Glass walls displayed the row upon row of bottles. Further down, one nook had a wall completely covered in tiny square shelves. In each square was a tea pot – from tiny to small to medium size. Each one was different and had a different design and painting on it. There must have been hundreds of them. There are chef’s stations set down the restaurant, behind glass enclosures. The chefs cook and put up a display as well. Our table was way at the back of the restaurant. Outside, the beautiful lawns of the hotel designed like a Chinese garden complete with pagodas and lantern shaped lights was visible in the fading light.<br />
<br />
We ordered duck (but of course) and each one had to order a dish. I chose the scallops. Eric and Tony chose the pig’s ear and jelly fish ‘coleslaw’, Brian had the crispy mandarin fish, Bob had some other kind of fish, and there was fried rice, and Kevin chose the Kung Pao or was it General Tso’s chicken. I have to admit – that was the best chicken ever. Each of the dishes arrived beautifully arranged. We chose a Spanish red to go with our duck. The ducks arrived with due flourish. The chef arrived with a long knife to carve the duck table-side. He sliced off the crispy skin and served it. Then the duck breast – melt in your mouth tender! Our server advised us to dip the skin in the sugar before we tried it. I decided to do so. I could not believe it! The sugar added something totally new to the duck. The flavours just danced on my tongue. I was in Peking duck heaven! Need I say I am going back for some more? Oh yes, I would do the pig’s ear and jelly fish too! I had to have the duck’s brain – it was good. Tasted just like chicken brain, didn’t it, Eric? The Spanish red just got better with each bite. That was one meal that I will remember for the longest time.<br />
<br />
On the way back, my mother called. And was horrified to hear I’d been eating pig’s ear and jelly fish and yak meat… Did I mention the yak meat before?<br />
<br />
Ah yes, the yak meat. The hotel that we stayed in also has a Chinese restaurant. One night, we decided to try it. Oh boy! Eric is quite the adventurous eater – he should go on Amazing Race or Fear Factor – he’d probably wipe out the competition in the gross-out eating contest. Well, while we all played it safe, Eric decides to have yak meat. I had to try it. I was surprised how good it tasted – rather like a cross between beef and goat meat, and a lot more fibrous.<br />
<br />
The highlight of that meal, to me, was the tea-serving. Bob, one of my colleagues, drinks tea rather than coffee. He ordered tea and it came with a whole lot of presentation. The tea leaves were presented in a little pot. A server dressed in traditional Chinese robes came up with a kettle. This was no ordinary kettle. It was a little brass pot with a long straight spout that narrowed to the tip. The spout was almost a meter long. Before he poured, he stepped back and then poised the spout over the pot. The first time he poured it straight, balancing the spout over his forearm. The second time he balanced it across his shoulders and poured sideways. The third time, it was angled across his back… WOW!!<br />
<br />
I slept in on Sunday. We had planned to meet for breakfast at 8:30. The phone ringing woke me up. It was 9:30 and folks were beginning to worry about me and why I was a no-show for breakfast. I also have a niggling feeling Eric may have put Kevin up to it. Either way, it woke me up. The rest of the day was spent working in a conference room at the hotel.<br />
<br />
….more to come….</span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-13710437344755919732010-01-01T08:29:00.000-05:002010-01-06T17:49:56.650-05:00Beijing - A New Day in A new Country - Pt Deux<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">Too much Work, Too Little Sleep</span></i></b><br />
<b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">April 27th, 2009</span></i></b><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;">T</span><span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">he client site is located in Shang-di district. This is almost like the software export zone in India or a Research Technology park in the US. Both sides of the road are lined with one software company after another with familiar names like Neusoft and Oracle. Driving along the main road, you see these massive power grid towers marching down the left, and right in the middle of it, is this odd structure. Someone called it the ‘Flying Saucer’ or better still ‘the Weird Thingy’. It’s definitely a thingy. Probably a cell tower – who knows? See pic attached.<br />
<br />
The client offices are in a glass and concrete structure, very modern, with fountains in the garden, and uniformed guards – hats, gloves, et al. The room we sit in is a big conference room with tables along three sides. People sit on either side of the tables, grabbing whichever work area is empty.<br />
<br />
I didn’t realize this, but I was told later that men don’t shake hands with women, until the woman sticks out her hand first. Since I was completely unaware of this, I stuck my hand out at everybody. Limp handshakes! I thought. Well, turns out that was one more thing I was unaware of. Now, I start to feel like I am in a foreign country, where I must respect the customs and traditions of what is a very traditional society.<br />
<br />
After a quick confab, we decided to pull all the team into a conference room for a briefing/introduction session. Kevin had warned me about the language issues, and I decided that if I was to make myself understood white-boarding it was the way to go. It’s really difficult to communicate without a common language, and it makes you wonder what else you are missing. At points in the meeting, the entire conversation would be in Mandarin, with Kevin and me basically looking on, trying hard to understand what the heck was being said. Suddenly, the conversation would stop and they’d go ‘Ok’. Okay! And we’d move on. I had to try and pace myself to make myself more understood, and I try and pronounce words more clearly and precisely and with far less Americanisms than I would use while talking to the others.<br />
<br />
There is a smoking room on our floor. The entire floor is built around a four-storey atrium. Kevin showed me the smoking room, and it sort of became the place where we went to have private conversations. Two of our Chinese team mates came in and were surprised to see me standing there with a cigarette in my hand. Now all smokers know this, but smoking is a great networking tool. Smokers bond. I got to know a little bit of these guys on our team. Nice young men and both were rather chuffed when I expressed an interest in learning how to speak certain words in Chinese. So we were off to a good start.<br />
<br />
Did I mention we actually watched the change of guards at the office? Yep. They actually have a little ceremony where they do hand offs!<br />
<br />
Work piled up. We were up to necks in work, and it was slowly rising over our heads.<br />
<br />
But come lunchtime, suddenly everyone is out of the office. They really like their lunch hour! But this we later discovered was due to the fact that the cafeterias basically opened between around 11:30 and 1/1:30 – so everyone disappears to take advantage of that time. Kevin took me to a little cafeteria/coffee shop for lunch. We didn’t feel adventurous enough to venture into the cafeteria. I had my first Chinese pizza. Pretty good!<br />
<br />
Keeping in mind the rush-hour traffic and the fact that we were all fast fading from the previous day’s (two days?) travel, we decided to leave around 5:30. On the way back, I was told not to take a cab that was not a real cab i.e. it didn’t have the word Taxi on the top and markings on the side. Good to know. The cab rides are usually around 35-40 yuan – something like 6 or 7 dollars. The almost 8-mile drive takes anything between half-an-hour and an hour depending on traffic and the route du jour picked by the driver du jour. Some things reminded me of home. The fact that cabs facing one way in the traffic will not go in a particular direction. Those facing North would not take us back to the hotel. So it was a sprint across the street and into a cab facing South! To me, it was like being back in India. Chalna hai?<br />
<br />
Back at the hotel, we changed and went down to the Brazilian steak house in the hotel – go figure!! Awesome chorizos!! Need I say more?<br />
<br />
We have a 10 pm conference call, so Eric, Kevin and I decided to take it in Kevin’s room. Became a sort of pajama party – with me on the floor on cushions, and Kevin stretched out on the sofa, and Eric basically squatting on a chair.<br />
<br />
It soon became a pattern. Breakfast around 7/7:30 – coffee to go. At work, rush around, fight fires, answer questions, find solutions, run interference, learn Chinese, and generally be a busybody. Back to the hotel, find a place to eat dinner, maybe a drink. Take the 9 pm call, take the 10 pm call. Work some more, usually until or past midnight, sleep, wake up at 6 and repeat pattern.<br />
<br />
It was taking a toll on us. But we had to deal with it. And everyone on the team dealt with it.<br />
<br />
It’s a brilliant team. I have never seen a collection of such smart people in one project, bar none! Each one brings something to the table, and there is really little or no ego clashes at all!<br />
<br />
But I have to mention the two people who I work most closely with.<br />
<br />
The first is Eric – our PM – the devilishly handsome guy in my last post. (see Eric? I did give you props!) Eric landed into a project that is in crisis mode, and his ability to grasp situations and take pressure off us is pretty amazing. I’m glad he’s on the team. And more importantly, I’m glad he’s a team player. But most of all, I enjoy the fact that he can be humorous – sometimes at the most inopportune times – in an incredibly ridiculous way, and release the tension. He’s also been there, when I need to rant and rave, and totally (yes, Eric, TOTALLY) understood my need to vent.<br />
<br />
The other is Kevin. What would I do without him? Kevin is an instinctive leader. He leads from the front and keeps a cool head even when under pressure. He bonds with people so well, that I sometimes envy his ability to do that. I think he has our team eating out of his hands. I believe if he asked them to lie down on a bed of nail for him – they probably would – except me. I kinda don’t like that kind of physical torture – seeing as I’m a comfort loving person myself. His best quality is his ability to see things in an analytical manner and articulate it very clearly and concisely. I am learning so much from him. His worst? STOP APOLOGISING already!!<br />
<br />
So here we are – in a little pressure cooker – and the pressure is building. So we needed to find a way to vent the steam. Bring on the safety valve!</span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-6601614952457335422010-01-01T08:26:00.001-05:002010-01-06T18:38:21.034-05:00India - Thoughts from the Land of my Birth - March 18th, 2009 12:43 pm<span style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">So I came to India with the idea that I could purchase a pre-paid cell phone. How expensive could it be? The exchange rate is good, I could use a good phone. At work my colleague took me to a phone seller. Yes, he could sell me a phone, but I needed a photo-id (no problem - I have my passport, my OCI card..) .... and a UTILITY BILL!!! What?! Of course, we tried telling him that I was only visiting for a few weeks, and needed the cell to be able to be in contact and for emergencies. But the man was adamant. This was quite a surprise for me. The fact that I was willing to shell out hard cash to get the phone I need, was not a factor at all. The man seemed genuinely sorry that he could not help me out - regulations were regulations - whatever happened to good old bribing? Evidently there is a new regulation that requires ALL cellphone users to be registered AND a background check made!<br />
<br />
Finally, the Saturday after, I was able to get my nephews to purchase a phone for me. However, even after that there were issues. I though I was purchasing a phone, and the SIM card. At which point I thought I was done. But nooooooo.... then I had to buy time as well (did the activation not cover a standard starting credit? - evidently not!). I then added credit to my account. But then, two days later, I was getting SMS's - I couldn't continue with the phone because my papers had not reached? But my nephew had submitted all the papers - what could be the problem? I have no idea! But right now, all I can do is receive calls (free airtime) and SMS's... this is really bugging me out.<br />
<br />
I thought security in India was always tighter than in the West. This was a new level of security. While on the one hand I feel harassed, in the same way I feel harassed every time I have to take off my shoes at the airport. On the other hand, I realise why the government has taken the stance it is taking. But what amazed me is how well people have taken to it. There are rules and regulations that are now in place that weren't there - or maybe they were - people just weren't adhering to it.<br />
<br />
I see drivers with seat belts on. Especially if there is a havaldar around.<br />
My cab drivers would always use headphones if they had to be on their cells.<br />
As I enter Magarpatta city SEZ, there are security blocks on the road. I have to show my id, before the cab is let through<br />
As I enter the office building, there is only one entrance - through security. Everyday I have to have my laptop case and my purse checked. Swipe cards are soooo passe.<br />
As my cab enters the hotel grounds, the security guard would do an undercarriage sweep, and I would have to give him my room number - never mind that he saw me everyday - to let us through.<br />
The cabs are not allowed to stand and wait for passengers in front of buildings.<br />
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And yet... and yet...<br />
There is still the incessant honking of traffic. There is no adherence to traffic signals or lane markers.<br />
There is still the same laissez-faire that identifies the regular Indian. There is still the complete lackadaisical approach to things we take for granted - services for instance. My cousin's internet went down a few days ago... and she still has no service. I still dont have a cell phone that I can call out from.. only receive calls... how does that help me call a cab company?<br />
I have a corporate apartment - without a landline ... how am I going to get my conf calls?<br />
There's hundreds of channels on TV, and reality television like MTV roadies, a cross between Road Rules and Survivor!! Pretty sweet! And news channels that are questioning ministers on live television a la CNN/FOX/</span> <substitute any="" channel="" here="" name="" news="" other=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">, yet the politicians still spout the same old rhetoric - now that the elections are around the corner.<br />
And you still see news like the girl who committed suicide because she was forced to perform a strip tease as part of the 'ragging' ritual.<br />
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This India is so different from the one I grew up in. And in so many ways still the same. Why am I expecting everything to still be the same? After all, I've evolved and so has the country. I don't know for better or for worse.<br />
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Always, while growing up I felt that Indians did not have the same sense of pride in their country that our previous generations had - the Independence Generation. That the leaders of our country always wanted more for themselves than for their country. Today I felt that Indira Gandhi - whatever her faults - was always driven by what she felt was best for the country - whether it was the right thing or not, she was definitely a leader that thought of the country first.<br />
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All I can say is this... One thing made me very very happy. This election - all of a sudden - I see things that I saw just a year ago in America. The 'Get out the vote' and 'youth mobilization' is starting to take center stage. There are PSAs by celebrities and ads on TV and the newspaper. People are being reminded what voting really means. That voting is a right that needs to be exercised and that you are responsible for who you choose to lead you. And I see Indian flags everywhere. Is this a sensibility borne of watching that other democracy across the world, and how proud they are of their country? I saw a cubicle in the office. Two small Indian flags stood in a corner of a desk. How American! and yet, I am so very glad that this has finally come to India. That we've become proud of our flag - we are proud to wave that tricolor. And how sad I am that it had to happen, after I had decided to stop being an Indian legally. But I think by now you've guessed - I'm still an Indian at heart. and proud to be one.</span> </substitute></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-36252097798442836012010-01-01T08:24:00.000-05:002010-01-06T17:49:10.541-05:00India - What Happened to Change - March 12,2009 8:58 am.<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I originally posted this on my Facebook page. But I realized that posting there would mean some of my friends could not see those posts. So... Here goes...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; line-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Before I came to India I got a long travel advisory from the travel agent - what to drink, what not to eat, what to wear, where to go.. and by the way when Holi came around the advisory said 'Do not go out'. Of course I didn't. I never play Holi, partly because its always during Lent, and partly because of my intense aversion to getting slathered in multi-colored hues, that end up looking black. So I stayed in the solitary air-conditioned comfort of my room and worked - Its not a holiday in Canada, so I had to work. But not before some calls from friends and relatives. Which was a nice way of passing the day. But I did get loads of work done.<br />
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And then of course, the travel advisory said 'you will never get any change back'. Now being the typical Indian, I thought, how bad could it get? Surely someone would have some khulla - like did no one do business anymore? I decided to ignore that piece of advice.<br />
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Dayummmm... was I ever wrong...!!<br />
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I took an auto to work the first day - no khulla. The cab on the way home - no khulla. The story begins to be repeated ad nauseum. The office cafeteria - no khulla. The wi-fi card seller - no khulla. By now, I am getting desperate! This is madness!! What happened to all the change? Where does it go? Or does it go anywhere at all?!<br />
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By the time I return to the cold frontiers of the white north - I may or may not unravel this mystery. But for sure, the next time I get some money changed - I'm gonna demand 10s.. no fifties, no hundreds, no five hundreds - ONLY TENS, I tell you!!!</span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-43564801319344416892009-11-26T13:25:00.002-05:002010-01-11T22:50:48.709-05:00Beijing - One Last Time - Part Two<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>Truly the last time:<br />
November 21st, 2009</i></b><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Our phase of the project draws to a close and I am looking forward to moving on to something new. A few weeks ago, I broke the fifth metatarsal in my right foot. I was down for a weekend in Austin visiting Joy and his family whom I hadn’t seen in years. It was also a chance to see Thomas’ three kids. So it was quite the joyful reunion in Austin. Except on the Saturday night, we three, Joy, Minnie and I went out to check out the jazz lounges in the entertainment district. I realized that the one time I had been to Austin, I hadn’t really seen downtown Austin. We walked by pubs, some that I recognized from the Real World: Austin episodes. They did not cater to people of our age group. We went to a bar, I ordered a tall glass of Long Island Iced Tea, and sat and listened to the live band. It was fantastic. Then we moved on to the next. But the streets of Austin are cobbled, and the tiny, slim heels in my ‘Roach-killer’ Stuart Weizmann’s were my downfall. I thought I had a sprained ankle. It turned into a broken foot the next morning. Ah well, I couldn’t go back to T.o., but I could work from my laptop, and work I did. At the end of the day, my butt hurt! And there was no question, I would not be traveling anywhere for the next week at least.</span></span><br />
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A week later, I flew back to Toronto. And as the politics of the project grew heated, so did our collective frustration. Kevin, Matt, Eric, Yaw and I would be traveling to Beijing – potentially one last time, along with Charlie our engagement partner.</span></span><br />
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With a broken foot encased in a knee high air-plaster boot, I boarded my flight to China. It was packed. Of course, I had wheel chair access, and that helped a lot. People watched me limp, and hurried to help me with everything. It’s extraordinary how caring people get when they see someone else in pain. It holds out hope for all of mankind. And I will certainly be more considerate of people I see in wheelchairs. Limited mobility is an awful thing.</span></span><br />
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The flight was uneventful, except that in the 13 hours elapsed time, I went from noon to night to day to night again! Weird does not begin to describe it. But it did help with adjusting to the time difference. I landed in the dark. It had been raining earlier but had now stopped. It was cold and I could see my breath in little puffs! I lit up a cigarette. It didn’t really feel that good. Did I mention that I am now on Champix trying to curb my nicotine addiction? I took a taxi to the hotel. Everyone was very kind. Of course, at the desk I got the “Welcome back, Ms Routh” followed quickly by “Is Mr Kevin coming in today as well?” Ah, Kevin, Kevin… you have won the hearts of the people here. But unfortunately for the people at the Crowne Plaza, Mr. Kevin would be arriving only the next night. Turns out – they were full, but held a room for him… talk about service!</span></span><br />
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I dumped my bags in my room. It was already happy hour, and I was on the 17th floor. Might as well check to see if my other buddies had turned up - and where else to look for them but in the Club Lounge on the same floor? I was right – they were there! Hugs all around and we all sat down and chewed some fat. Of course, work always comes first, but this time, we had the sense of this being our last few days here. We were all unsure of what we had to do beyond our daily dosage of work. Plans of action were made.</span></span><br />
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The next morning dawned bright and SNOWY!! There had been around 5” of snow on the ground overnight. Clearly Beijing is not as prepared as say Toronto or Detroit or Pittsburgh where we come from. The driveway in front of the hotel was being shoveled by the hotel employees, using whatever they had to hand. It was cold and bright as I headed out to breakfast. The others were already down with the exception of Matt – who walked in a little later. Charlie, Eric and Yaw decided to head out first at around 8 am. Matt and I were still at breakfast. Sometime later, Eric showed up. Evidently there were no taxis to be had. But a few minutes later, they found a taxi. Matt and I waited for 45 minutes and then got one. Traffic was a mess usually describes something in LA or T.o. during rush hour. This was worse, much, much worse. The roads were not shoveled. It had been wet snow falling, and there was slush absolutely everywhere! Yet people were still out in droves going about their daily grind. Ugly, dirty snow lined the sidewalks and the streets and people waded through it. By the time we reached work we had been sitting in traffic for over two hours! Did I mention that Eric’s cabbie was actually able to get out of the cab for FOUR cigarette breaks? Yes, traffic was that bad! Of course, we didn’t spot a single winter tire anywhere. Evidently all you need are all-seasons. We left at 3pm – tired from our morning commute, and jet lag, and sojourned to the 17th floor – where Yaw and I worked through some of the outstanding issues.</span></span><br />
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Kevin’s flight was due in around 10 pm. I was not expecting to see him till breakfast the next morning, if at all. But around 11 pm – he pinged me. He was already at the hotel! He wanted to stop by to drop off a laptop camera for me. Too fun! He came over, and we sat and chatted of inconsequential things. By the next day, a sort of routine set into place. Breakfast, work, etc. etc. etc.</span></span><br />
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Of course, the first thing we had to do was book one last meal at the Made In China. We’d tried Peking Ducks elsewhere, and this is really the best place that we’d had so far. So that was decided – we would be doing our Peking Duck dinner on Friday. It was exactly as beautiful as I remembered. The flavors still exploded in my mouth. Good company, good food, good wine… what more could one ask for?</span></span><br />
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The next thing I had to do was have the chorizos at Churrasco’s, the Brazilian restaurant at the hotel. They were just as succulent and just as good. Yum!!</span></span><br />
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And of course, there were the caipirinhas at the Palm Lounge. I kept my limit to two. I was being a really good girl.</span></span><br />
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Now, there was one thing that I had been dying to do ever since we first went to Beijing - that was to go for a hutong tour. This time, the boys decided they wanted to go cycling through it. It might have been unfair of me to have been incredibly put off by this decision – considering a) I don’t bike, b) I couldn’t even if I had wanted to and c) I’d been requesting them to do it for months – and they decided to do it while I was out of commission. So I came down really hard on them. I was feeling abandoned and sorry for myself as well. That morning, I was unfairly bitchy to them – but, in my defense, they should also have had a bit of compassion for me, I think. In any case, I watched them take off on Saturday, and went off to my room. A shower and I wanted to catch up on sleep. They had promised to come back and do something together. I fell asleep and woke up around 2:30 pm when the phone went. It was Kevin telling me they were headed back and would be back in about half an hour. I went down to the restaurant – starving. They had stopped the lunch service – which was strange – I had had lunch at the Palm Garden late in the afternoon in summer. So I had to make do with a tea service instead. Coffee, scones, petit-fours…had to suffice until I could get something more substantial into me. When they came in, they were frozen! It had been brutally cold outside and cycling had to have been tough in that weather – sunny though it was.</span></span><br />
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Eric and Kevin are the ones I interact with the most, they are my Beijing family, and I guess that’s why I'd been feeling so hurt and so left out. But I realized that it was really not fair of me to expect them to curtail their excursions simply because I couldn't join in. And something so trivial and silly was really not worth losing their friendship over. I swallowed my pride and decided to apologize. That evening as we walked to the massage parlor, I walked with Kevin and we talked about it. I apologized to him. I also caught up with Eric and apologized to him. I was glad I did it!</span></span><br />
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The next day, we decided to go to the Silk Market. I decided to be brave about it, and do it. Kiran – our new found friend joined us. Two of our clients were also in town, KevinA and Mike. Eric was going to show Matt the Forbidden City and then they would be headed to the Silk Market. Somehow – other than Charlie, we all ended up at the Silk Market. I had no plans to buy anything, but watching Kevin buy “Ugg” boots, I decided I wanted a pair too. I also needed a new case as my duffel bag was already filled to the brim. Silk Market was just the same – confusing, crowded, chaotic. I also wanted some pictures of the inside. Kevin wanted a particular trinket and I did want some silly artifacts as well. We wandered up to the floor where these could be found. As we walked through different stores, I was looking for some kind of organizer for my desk. I found some lacquered boxes that looked like I could use them as something-or-the-other holders. I picked one up. It was beautifully painted. I opened it, gasped in shock and slammed it shut. On the bottom was an exquisitely detailed illustration of a man and woman in Kama sutra poses, as was the inside of the lid. Giggling hysterically, I called Kevin over and showed him. We quickly snapped pics of the box and put it down before the store owner walked in.</span></span><br />
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We finished up at the 7th floor, where we decided to have lunch. It was an enormous buffet and for a market restaurant quite okay.</span></span><br />
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At this point, I have to interject with the story of the goatees. Matt and Yaw had goatees. Eric and Kevin decided to grow a goatee as well. Although Kevin was quite certain that he wouldn’t be able to grow a decent one, since his facial hair takes time to grow, plus its light colored. Eric was happy with his growth – it was working. However, it wasn’t until the second week that Kevin’s beard really start showing. And suddenly Kevin the perfect gentleman was less visible, and Kevin the (slightly) bad boy started coming out. Personality wise too, it started to show! But it was fun to see him drop a few of those inhibitions and being more free.</span></span><br />
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The week flew by – mostly with work and Club Lounge and Palm Garden and massages. On our last Friday, Eric wanted us to go have a meal at this hutong restaurant that he had been to with Allen. Of course, he did not remember which restaurant it was, so he had to make a guess, and guess he did.</span></span><br />
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On Thursday, we had been invited to dinner by the hotel’s Customer Service Manager at the hotel’s Chinese restaurant. It was a sumptuous meal – but there was a shrimp dish cooked with what Yaw called numb. These peppercorns literally numbed your taste buds – they were so hot.</span></span><br />
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That night I figured I was allergic to them. This was the second night in a row I had had this reaction and this was the only common factor in the two meals. My skin was flushed and dry and hot – almost feverish. I could walk out into the bitter cold and not feel a thing. I opened out the windows to my room as far as I could, turned the heat off and eventually fell asleep.<br />
Friday afternoon, we left work early. Kevin and Yaw headed back to the hotel. They would be going to Tea City – an underground tea market, so that Kevin could pick up tea for friends and family back home. Eric and I headed to Silk Market directly. The Silk Market was not that far – at least not where we come from. We were tired and fell asleep in the cab. An hour later I woke up – we had still not reached the market! This was ridiculous! But it was traffic all the way. Ugly, congested, stalled. Beijing in the rush hour. I realized that a couple of places I’d been to earlier were actually within walking distance of Silk market – including that one structure that Eric so loves. It was an hour and a half before we finally got there.<br />
Our chores at Silk Market completed – we headed back to the hotel. Eric had to give Yaw the restaurant information. They didn't speak English, and Yaw would have to be the translator. We were told that we would have to reach there before 8pm – the kitchen closed then. Wow!</span></span><br />
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We hurried out and got a cab, with Yaw providing directions. The cab driver was not sure which hutong we were going to. We drove down this main road which we’d been down many times before. Hutongs took off every so often from this road that was lined with small shops. We missed the hutong we were going to and take a u-turn to drive back up the road. The entrance was across the street. We crossed the street and entered the hutong.<br />
For anyone wondering what a hutong is – in India, it would be called a gulli. In America – you would call it an alley. But I think gulli is more appropriate. The same unevenly paved narrow roads; scooters, cars, parked in front of tiny dimly lit shops; wires dangling from dim lamp posts; pot holes. Oh yes, this feels totally familiar to me. I could have been in Parsudih, Jamshedpur for all I knew! Only difference? no stray cows or dogs around.</span></span><br />
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We walked for about a 100 yards and there in front of us was the restaurant. It was built typically in that “palace” style only scaled down. The door to the “Princess” restaurant was flanked by two men in traditional Chinese costumes. Of course, right about this time, Eric also realized that this wasn’t the restaurant he had wanted to take us to. But we were already there, and we decided to try it. It might just be a happy accident. And it was.<br />
The place was old – a few centuries old. We entered the main foyer – if you could call it that. Yaw talked to the people at the desk while we looked around us. A group of girls dressed in long red cheongsams, suddenly stepped out from a room to our left and ran across the inner courtyard to the next building. We followed them but through a different set of big doors. The room beyond was set in below the level of the steps. To our right were tables full of diners. To our left, a large cleared area strung with red lanterns. At the far end sat a woman dressed in traditional Chinese robes and head dress with two “attendants” behind her. A young man with a pig tail stepped onto the stage, and announced something. Yaw wasn’t around to translate. Kevin had his DVR out and recording and so did Eric – like an idiot, I had forgotten to bring my camera. The girls who we’d seen earlier stepped out onto the large area – I guess you could call it a stage. They started dancing, small delicate steps, flowing, weaving, undulating. Pretty girls with smooth faces. I looked closely. The last one in the line was definitely well into her late twenties – if not older. But they didn’t look it! They moved in time to the music, evidently dancing in the Princess’ court. Formations came and went. It was all very pretty. And very surreal because it was so similar in style to Manipuri style of dancing. I noticed that they didn’t have much of the finger movements that are so intrinsic to Indian styles of dancing. Once that was over, we were led to a large round table in the back room. All the furniture was heavy, wooden and intricate. The menu was a set menu. We let Yaw do the ordering. The table was set quickly. Tea was brought out. One of the girls came over and asked if we wanted to look around the rest of the place. We jumped at the chance – well the guys did, I kind of pushed myself off my chair – as I still favored my leg. The next courtyard was also surrounded by rooms. They took us to the first one and asked us if we wanted to try on the dresses. Of course, we did! Yaw and Eric went first. Yaw being Chinese totally looked the part. He looked like he’d just come off the battleground – especially with the goatee. Eric strangely, also looked the part – perhaps because of his coloring. Unfortunately for Kevin – they didn’t have any robes in his size, so he had to make do with a hat and pigtail instead. I stood still as two women worked me into a robe, with an intricate collar. I could hear Kevin saying behind me that I was playing the part to the hilt, being waited upon. Thing is, all that acting I did back in the day, was coming back to me. Especially the getting dressed part where you stood still while the costume designer dressed you up and handed you over to make up. They tied a “hat” on my head and gave me a silk kerchief for my hand. I was ready. Princess Gim Pi! Okay – I came up with that one right now. We went from room to room. I saw wedding robes – gorgeous, vibrant colors with intricate gold and silk thread embroidery of dragons on them. I really wanted to try one on. The furniture was also intricately carved. We took pictures, with me doing my best ‘off with his head’ impression.</span></span><br />
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I was so glad we’d come here. This was a totally novel experience for us, and we thoroughly enjoyed it. Hopefully, the food would be as good. We changed and got back to our table. Another routine was starting up. This time the girls were all dressed in green, and their skirts had jagged edges like the leaves of a tree. They signified the coming of spring, I think. Their dance was joyous, and bubbly, faster with more spins and twirls, and criss-cross configurations as they danced for their queen.</span></span><br />
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Our dinner arrived. In the center was a big pot of duck soup. On the lazy Susan were small plates of food. Some we recognized some we didn’t. There were fish fry-ums, and chicken, prawns, tiny eggs colored green, bok choy, raisins, pistachios, and oh! A ton of things. The tea was served with palm-sugar – another familiar food for me. Our attendant ladled the soup out for us – evidently that was the etiquette of the house. You don’t serve the soup to yourself, the rest of the dishes you pick up with the chopsticks. She added shrimp balls to the soup and then finally vegetarian dumplings. It was a satisfying comforting meal on a cold winter’s day. Perfect! We were the last ones left in the restaurant. We realized why we’d been told 8 pm. We walked back to the main street and then it was a quest for cabs.<br />
I walked back with Kevin to his room to pick up my laptop bag. This was the last time I’d hang out with him on this project, and that last hug felt kind of sad. But we did have our video cams – so we’d see each other soon. Besides, we still had our daily calls. We were all flying back the next day, but he was out first, Eric and Yaw were next and I was last.</span></span><br />
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The next day, Eric and Yaw and I met for one last breakfast at the restaurant. They were going to Tea City. I still had around 150RMB in the massage parlor kitty – I asked them to pick me up some Oolong cha for my friends back home. I still had to finish packing. I packed, slept and waited for them to get back. Eric came back around 1 – we met in the Lounge for one last cup of coffee. He’d brought my tea for me. Our conversation centered around this whole experience and became vaguely nostalgic – and yet forward looking, too.</span></span><br />
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I can’t finish this tale without speaking of the kindness of strangers. These people in my blogs are my friends. This time, with a broken foot, I had to depend on them sometimes. Kevin got me lunch – almost every day – he went out for food in the cold, so I would not have to walk on the icy pavements. Every time, I put out a hand for help to get over stairs or uneven pavement or something – I felt another hand come into mine for support. Mostly it was Kevin or Eric or Matt or Yaw but sometimes it was total strangers. Anyone from the wait staff at the Crowne would rush to grab my laptop bag as I came in for breakfast and help me up or down the slope – especially Rosie. Taxi drivers would open my doors for me and even agree to go in the wrong direction, simply so I would not have to cross the street to get a cab going in the right direction. Everywhere I went, I met kindness. The flight attendants on my flight back were especially good to me – it’s their job – but they went beyond it. All these strangers helping a person – its hope for this world – surely.</span></span><br />
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I don’t think any of us will ever experience anything like this ever again. Would I have done some things differently? Absolutely. But some things – I would not change, not for the world!</span></span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-33485364451556804922009-11-26T11:54:00.000-05:002009-11-26T13:48:03.547-05:00Beijing - One Last Time - Part One<h2><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">November 19</span></span><sup><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">th</span></span></sup><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;">, 2009</span></span></h2><h2><u><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;">Massage Whore</span></i></span></u><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI', sans-serif; font-weight: normal;"><i><span style="font-size: medium;"> : A person who is obsessed with having massages daily, obsesses about the next massage, and obsesses about the (preferably female) masseuse who gives them the massage! (Courtesy: Kevin T)</span></i><i><span style="font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></i></span></h2><div class="MsoNormal"> One last time in Beijing. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We – Kevin, Matt, Eric, Yaw and I - arrived in Beijing the week of November 9<sup><span style="font-size: medium;">th</span></sup>, 2009. This would be our last time in Beijing. It was cold – colder than Toronto, well into the negatives (Celsius – that is). It snowed twice that first week. I was glad of the thick winter coat and cashmere sweaters I had packed along with a beanie, leather gloves and a long scarf! I was going to need all that protection. I was a bit worried about my right foot. I’d broken it a few weeks ago, and it was still in an air-plaster “boot”. I couldn’t wear shoes yet, and only socks protected me from the cold weather outside. But I soon realized the boot had very good insulation against the weather, thank God!<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The bad weather stayed with us all of the first week. Two snowfalls severely curtailed the traffic and our ability to go out. Most dinners were at the Club Lounge, with room service thrown in. So, in the meantime, what do you do when you’ve done all the sights, don’t have anything to do in the evening except hang out at the Club Lounge, and outside its freezing the b***s off a bronze dragon? Why, you have massages of course!<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Eric and Yaw were already into the whole massage thing – they’d been exploring on their previous trips. So one evening, Kevin, Matt, Eric, Yaw and I headed to the massage parlor. There is no dearth of massage parlors in the area where we lived. We’d been to one ‘Family’ massage parlor – but now we decided to try the one across the street. This one was a little run down, the girls didn’t wear the sexy summer clothes, but what the hell – it was cheaper! We decided to do body massages. My foot had been encased in an air-plaster and walking for too long was painful, not to mention climbing stairs was not easy, hopping in and out of showers was really hard, getting into the back of vehicles was a no-no and slopes were scary for me.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The boys got double rooms each, while I was led into a cluttered room with a massage table in the center. They indicated that I get into the flannel pajamas on the bed. I did that and sat on the sofa unsure of what to do next. (Eric’s tales of “shrubbery” were wafting through my head at this point). My boot was off, but I kept the sock on the foot. A wizened, smiling old-ish man came into the room. He indicate I should lie face down on the table. He saw my boot and kind of signed to me what it was about? I told him ‘tong’ (Mandarin for pain/hurts) pointing to my right foot, and then making a breaking motion with my hands. He got it. I lay back down and the massage began. It was not quite what I was expecting. He was using his hands to rub me down. Quick, deliberate strokes. He gently pulled my sock off, examined my foot and rubbed some kind of lotion on it. Then he turned on an infra-red lamp on it. The heat was burning into my skin, but after a while, I could feel it glow warmly. Working my back he stopped at the bottom of my spine. Gently he parted the top and bottom of the pajamas and rubbed my spine along the exact spot where I have insistent pain. He grunted. I must mention that at this point, we conversed through grunts primarily. Then he sprayed some more of the lotion on my back and turned the lamp on that part. My stomach got the same treatment. With the rest of my body massaged (including my butt, but not my chest, I must add), he kept the base of my neck under the lamp for a while. Then it was time to get dressed, pay up and head out. I felt good. This was a good thing! I definitely wanted to do this again. I felt comfortable with “my” old man, with no sense of any impropriety whatsoever. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">However, and this is where the massage whores come in, I had to hear the telling and retelling of every aspect of the guys’ massages and/or masseuses qualities ad infinitum, ad nauseum! How strong their hands were, how tiny they were, how they balanced on their backs without holding onto anything, how sexy they were, what their different techniques were, … ** yawn **! I only had an old man – how the heck were my stories supposed to compete? But get this, almost immediately we made plans for when we would do it next. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">That Saturday afternoon, I was standing by the concierge’s desk, looking through some rickshaw tours. I really wanted to go to the hutongs. But I was wondering how I would do on the cobbled streets by myself, or get up and into the rickshaws on my own, when someone spoke to me. Indian, very Indian. I turned around. An Indian lady stood before me. Turns out she recognized me from our client site. Her name was Kiran, and I gladly asked her to join me, as I was waiting for the boys to get back from their hutong tour. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">That evening we planned to do another massage session. Same place, but this time Kiran joined us. Which I felt was really good, as I had another woman to talk to while getting a massage. Once again, we landed at the same massage parlor. This time Kiran and I shared a room, while Eric, Matt and Kevin had one. I could hear the rumbling of their voices through the walls. The same old man walked in, and another girl. Kiran and I lay back, eyes closed as they went through their routine. I noticed that I was getting the “rub-down” treatment while Kiran got the more deep kneading massage. I wondered why that was. Never figured that one out. But my old man was really gentle with me. And gave me the same medicine as before, though without the infrared lamp. We also got foot massages. The soak in the warm water was really soothing to my foot. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kiran soon became a part of our group. The next time we decided to go for a massage it was back to our old parlor. This was a parlor we’d been to in summer. The girls were now dressed in long harem pants with wicked high heels and low-necked blouses – much to the disappointment of the guys. This was their winter uniform – the short catholic school skirts were strictly summer time. This time it was Kevin, Yaw, Kiran and myself. We decided to do foot massages. Once again, we were in a room with four loungers and I got the only male masseuse. I do not know what his name is, but he has a sweet face and very soft fingers. Yaw’s girl was one that had massaged Eric the first time I had been there. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Once again, I went through the motion of indicating to my “guy” about how my foot was broken. Of course, having Yaw there, I should just have asked him to explain in Mandarin instead, d-oh! Kiran and Yaw sat in the outer chairs, while Kevin and I were in the inner ones. Eyes closed, I could hear his girl slapping his feet and legs – a lot. She got dubbed ‘Slappy’. Evidently it was also very good for Kevin.. Didn’t know he had those kinds of ummm…. Inclinations. My guy worked on my right leg a lot. I had to show him which portion of my foot to avoid. Relaxed and rejuvenated – we headed back to the hotel. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">But not before Yaw had a brain fart. Why not get a package deal? We could say which massages we’d be most likely to be having – i.e. foot, body and oil massages – and they give us a discount? The massage parlor agreed to it. 20% off all massages for any of us. They would also come to the hotel to give us the in-room treatment. This was good! We even got a card – a VIP card! We pooled our money in to pay upfront for a set number of massages. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">We were all now officially massage whores. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">By this time, the guys had figured out that each of the girls had a number. They also each had favorites. Luckily for them they all had different favorites, though it took them a while to figure that one out. It was funny to watch them quibbling over who would get number “x” on a certain day. It was not luck of the draw, mind you.. it was very much – I want so-and-so! Never mind the insistent lingering discussions on which masseuse gave what kind of massage! ** sigh** Their inner high school boy was coming out in droves! Sad!<o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was the first to try the in-room. I wanted a body-massage. That Monday evening, Yaw set it up. “My” guy arrived at the hotel at 8 pm. We went up to my room. I had changed into jeans and a t-shirt. There was no massage table, so it had to be the bed. I lay on my stomach, and sighed in pleasure as his fingers dug into my head. This was contentment. One man taking care of my needs – oh! Not THOSE needs! – while I just lay back and let him do all the work! I had thought that the full body massage was always over the clothes. I was a bit alarmed when he gently unhooked my bra and then proceeded to knead my back. All the way down along my spine, his knuckles digging in and finding all the rough spots. Oh yeah. Then came the inevitable butt massage. (Okay – the guys were confused cause they never got the butt massage). He found these two spots inside my butt and pressed down hard on them. For a second the pain was intense, and then my body just melted. Another pressure point – between my torso and my legs. He applies the same technique. At first my body resists and then it relaxes. Aaahhh!!! I was flipped over it began all over again. One thing I realized, they massage you down a “meridian”. From the tip of the head to the base of the spine – back and front. From the base of the legs along the back to the heel. The pressure is applied evenly and firmly and released as soon you relax, leaving you wanting more. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Ninety minutes later – he was done. I felt delicious. He let himself out and I went straight to bed!<o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The next day, Eric, Yaw, Kevin and I headed back to the parlor. I wanted an oil massage. Kevin had been shy about having this massage for a while, and I’d been trying to convince him that he should try it. That day he finally broke down and agreed. Two oil massages for the both of us, two Thai massages for Yaw and Eric. We threw in head massages for Kevin and I as the oil massage was only 45 minutes, while the Thai massage was for 90 minutes. We were led down a corridor. Kevin was shown into the first room, me in the second, Eric in the third and Yaw in the room across from us. I was a bit comforted knowing that should anything untoward happen, I could scream and the guys would hear me. My guy showed up with a pair of translucent “shorts” that he indicated I should put on, and left. I stripped, put on the shorts and lay face down on the massage table. These rooms, I have to mention, have red decorated wall paper, incense burners, candles and shower stalls. He came back to the room, and the first thing he did was turn out the overhead light, and leave a dim little table lamp on. Thank god! I’d left my panties on under those shorts. Hell no, I don’t care if I got oil on them – I could always wash ‘em! He started with my head. That has got to be the best head massage of all. Did I mention that I fall asleep when anyone touches my hair? And 45 minutes of someone working every inch of your scalp. I did fall asleep I think. Then came the oil massage. Strangely, the smell of the oil reminded me of the hair oils you get in India – like Keo Karpin or Jabakussum! Floral, but not as strong. The oil massage was everything I had hoped it would be and more. It’s a lot less kneading and a lot more stroking – long, deep strokes. Forty-five minutes later, I was done. He indicated I should take a shower. I did – got dressed and ready to go. Of course, the ubiquitous notes were exchanged. How could we not? Evidently, Eric got twisted, curled, kneaded, flopped and all kinds of acrobatic things. Yaw did not get a Thai massage as his “girl” didn’t do it. He ended up with a body massage. Kevin got ‘Slappy’ and evidently she does not slap during an oil massage – which is good. Ever been slapped on oily skin? IT HURTS!!!<o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our trip was coming to an end. We all had money in the kitty. But, so far, none of the guys had availed themselves of the option of an in-room massage. That last evening, Yaw decided he wanted to have an in-room massage, while Kevin and I decided we would go over for the foot massages. Yaw’s girl was the same one that Kevin wanted, and we were waiting for her to finish with Yaw, before we went over. We would be walking back to the parlor with her. As we waited in the hotel lobby, we saw Kiran and asked her if she would like to join us. She agreed. We saw the masseuse coming and we were ready to step out the door. At which point, Kiran decided that if she could get an in-room massage from the same girl, she would prefer that. Poor Kevin! He was chagrined! But he’s also a gentleman. He let Kiran have his girl. I consoled him all the way to the parlor… no – just kidding! <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Kevin wanted the ‘paradise’ foot massage. Two masseuses simultaneously working on both feet, with aroma therapy and cupping thrown in. I pointed to the menu and made the arrangements. We were led to the room where we had our first massage (at least, I think it was the same room). We took the two end seats and the same routine began. Two girls who looked like twins for him, and my guy. Soak. Back rub. The two girls were tiny. I could hear them giggling incessantly. Turns out, Kevin’s toes were longer than their pinkies, their hands barely covered his palms and his shoes were as long as their forearms! Big American! Tee-hee-hee!! For a while I watched him getting worked over by the two girls. Then I closed my eyes and focused on my own relaxation. Soon I could hear deep breathing from the other side of the room, followed by a soft snore! Kevin was asleep! Oh my god. We all cracked up and he woke up. Guess what? He did it again. But it was worth it – I hope – for him. <o:p></o:p><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I believe they – Yaw, Eric and Kevin went for one last massage. I didn’t join in. I had been feeling weirdly unwell for the last couple of days and decided to forgo the massages. I’d started having allergic reactions to something – I don’t quite know what, but I was pretty sure it was the Szechuan peppercorns that are ridiculously hot to taste and numb your taste buds. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">In any case, I’d had two weeks of Beijing and I was ready to go home. For good, this time. <o:p></o:p><br />
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</div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-69640022657098518222009-11-03T18:42:00.001-05:002022-03-05T23:45:32.606-05:00Montreal, Quebec City, Ottawa and 1000-islands<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnr4OCJ5YCFvJv58FQLbz2Dg3bjoE6q7Teem7dPPjA3Wx6tfFTEpThYq7ObXicJlzr1_CQ4c5krAwYqzWbMNKqElGgALcGOELdPHjdVHZ7tY7rqwXsIfab6AogU_PYAcimNLJj7x5H2i0/s1600-h/IMG_0080.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnr4OCJ5YCFvJv58FQLbz2Dg3bjoE6q7Teem7dPPjA3Wx6tfFTEpThYq7ObXicJlzr1_CQ4c5krAwYqzWbMNKqElGgALcGOELdPHjdVHZ7tY7rqwXsIfab6AogU_PYAcimNLJj7x5H2i0/s320/IMG_0080.JPG" style="clear: both; float: left; margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px;" /></a><br />
<div style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">So last weekend Rupali and I did a bus tour of Montreal, Quebec City, and Ottawa/Gatineau - with a 1-hr side trip into the 1000-islands area (called Gananoque). Haven't really seen much of Canada outside of the Toronot area - Guelph and Niagara included. I did however, do a trip to Ottawa one time, and a very adventurous business trip to Florenceville in New Brunswick. But these are the three other major cities outside of Toronto on the Eastern side of Canada. So when Rupali decided on the trip, I basically gave her no option into letting me come along! And am I glad I went!</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;"> So off we went - 6:30 am to the pick-up point where the bus would pick us up. From there, it was up Highway 401 to Wilson and Scarborough to pick up the last few passengers and we were off to Montreal. The stretch of the highway between Trenton and Toronto is called the highway of heroes. Trenton is the airfield where bodies of Canadian soldiers slain in the line of duty arrive. They go along the highway of heroes to Toronoto to the Coroner's office, where the final autopsy is done. People stand along the highway and bridges saluting the soldiers who gave their lives for our country.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">The bus stops every couple of hours to let us stretch our legs. Our first stop - a place called the Big Apple </span></span></span><br />
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<span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: #666666; font-family: Arial; white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">http://picasaweb.google.com/madhumita.routh/MontrealQuebecCityOttawa1000Islands/</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">This is in the middle of nowhere - a BIG APPLE marks the spot. A pie factory, some breakfast, and we were off to Montreal. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">I didn't know that Montreal was an island on the St Lawrence river! And in French it sounds like Mon-ree-all. A small hill (NEVER call it a hill, - its a mountain - really ...**yuk,yuk**!!) call Mount Royal (or Mont Royale) looks out over the city. We were staying on the crossing of Rue Guy and Rue Rene Levesque (yep - the pronunciation is just as convoluted as the spelling). Montreal is a hustling bustling city with its cathedrals and basilicas and Latin area and English area and markets and people and sidewalk cafes and art everywhere and piers and harborfront! WOW!! We drove up Mont Royale for a spectacular view of the city. And then headed back. Rupali and I decided to go eat at the English quarter - which was about 4 blocks away. A street side restaurant with the panes removed to allow full access to the street, a tune/salmon burger served on a butchers block with handcut fries and condiments in soup spoons - ah! I liked it.. There is something arty, something very alive about Montreal. Did I mention that Rupali was ultra-excited to spot the CGI buildings in Montreal?! I have no clue why. I must mention, there were flowers everywhere. And people flipped between French and English and the houses - oh my god! the houses!! A.M.A.Z.I.N.G.!! The Catholic bent of the city is easily visible in the two huge Cathedrals, Notre-dame and Marie-Queen of the world. Brother Andre's Sanctuary - up on hill, is another beautiful European inspired cathedral. However it has no parish and is only used for special purposes. They say, if you climb the steps on your knees - your wishes will be fulfilled and yes! it did get featured in the Amazing Race. We also spotted the Olympic Stadium - which is built like a regular stadium - except it has this leaning tower at 45 degrees, with "string" attached to the roof of the stadium. The design was to allow the strings to pull up the roof like a handkerchief. Unfortunately, the Montreal winters put paid to that idea, and now the strings are design only. To be honest - the Bird's Nest is a much more impressive stadium.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">The next morning, we headed out to Quebec City. This is a city that a lot of our friends said is a must-see and totally hyped. Well - its not ... over-hyped I mean. This is totally worth a visit and another. I have to do it again once more. Quebec city stands on the river St Lawrence. The city is a walled city, and there is a garrison there. It's perched on a cliff, over looking the south. We disembarked at the Chateau Frontenac Hotel. A huge castle like building overlooking the river. From there the bus took us up the cliff to the plains of Abraham where a 20-minute battle decided the fate of Quebec. The story goes that the British were on the south of the river, and the French were on the north. The British general noticed how the french women would clamber up and down the cliff to do their laundry. He figured if the women could do it with loaded laundry baskets - his men could do it too. So at high tide the British crossed over and made their way up the cliff. The French emperor in the mean time (I am talking 18th Century here), decided that he didnt really want to defend Canada. So he let 2000 men - all farmers face the British army - with their canons and rifles. It was a massacre - and over in 20 minutes with over 1200 wounded! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">The plains of Abraham today are a green parkland, and as the bus wound around the park, we saw an 'English' park - strangely with a statue of Jean d'Arc on her horse. Remnants of the battle ground are visible in the four turrets that are visible lookout points - built by the British. They were constantly in fear of Americans attacking Canada! It is a beautiful park today and extremely serene, but most of the native people of Quebec feel like they were conquered by the British. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">The streets of Quebec city are narrow and winding and uphill and downdale; lined with houses that look like they are straight out of another century and country - which they probably are! There are statues and street-performers everywhere. And there's the imposing Cathedral of Notre-dame. Just up the hill from it, is the Protestant church. Plain and simple - its meant to emphasize the difference between the two faiths. The Archbishop's house, behind it is an imposing structure. The thing about that Protestant chursch - its reportedly haunted by a man who paces on the upper floor and a woman who pushes women that walk alone out of the side door to the sanctuary. Unfortunately, I didn't get to explore it, but I will - someday. For sure. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">We were given a choice of either going to the Sanctuary of St Anne de Beaupre or staying to check out the city. We elected to go. The bus ride took us past the Montmercy Falls - unfortunately, we couldn't stop. But the Basilica was barely a half hour away. We reached the Basilica and it is was HUGE!! We walked into the main sanctuary and there is a peace and calm inside. In typical Catholic fashion its also very ornate. The naves lead off to the sides elaborate statues of Mother Mary and the Saints look down on you. Intricate stained glass windows and subdued lighting emphasize the hushed ambiance of the interior. We found a stairway leading to a lower level. In the basement is a smaller sanctuary - that took my breath away. Parqueed arches pull your eyes to the altar in a flowing pattern. The walls are low and murals are everywhere. But the pattern of the arches change as you walk from one side of the room to the other. I took as many pictures as I could. I also said a little prayer. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">We left there and headed back to Quebec again, picking up the others and then back to Montreal. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">The next day we had to leave bright and early. Ottawa was the plan. Labor day in Ottawa is pretty empty. However, the By Ward Market was hustling and bustling. The bus stopped at Parliament hill to pick up the our guide. We would not be going into Parliament hill. And I had to pick up a grande mocha at Starbucks to get my coffee fix. I've been to Ottawa before, so I was more excited to be crossing the river into Quebec again, to reach Gatineau. The Canadian War Museum is in Gatineau as is the Museum of Civilization. I'd seen the museum across the river on my last trip - but did not explore it. However this time I was seeing it up close and personal. The theme of the building depicts a canoe overturned in a river. The canoe is visible on the roof. The rest of the building - inside and out depicts the flow of the water around the canoe. Its incredibly beautiful. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">From there we headed back to Ottawa and to the main area where all the ambassadors had their houses. The house of the US ambassador was in the best area - better than the Prime Minister's! It overlooked the Rideau River and was set back in a huge parkland. We returned to the By ward marketplace for some quick lunch and then it was Back to the Bus. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">Next stop - a boat ride in Gananoque at the 1000 islands. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">It was a gorgeous day.. hot, blue skies, white clouds, a perfect day for a ride on the water. We headed out to the boat in at Smuggler's Inn. The boat took off along the river, under a bridge, houses standing on the water, sighing with envy at the folks lucky enough to live so close to such a beautiful place. Looking at islands come and go. Some large, some tiny enough for just one tree. Show-offs on jet skis buzzed us. Motorboats waved by us. We stood there in the breeze just drinking it all in. What seems weird though is the US side is so - industrial; and the Canadian side all beautiful houses, wooded and almost fairy tale like. We came to a trio of islands with an enormous castle on it. The Boldt castle. For two days we'd been seeing the authentic stuff. This one..well... to put it kindly..doesnt hold a candle to the real thing! Who did it belong to? A search on Google reveals that it was built as a monument of love of George C Boldt for his wife Louise. I have no idea who they are! It's been donated to the authorities and is open for public viewing. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span face="'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif" style="font-size: 11px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face="Verdana, sans-serif"><span style="font-size: small;">Then it was back to good ole Toronto again.. Sigh! What a wonderful weekend. By the way - the Cathedral was so beautiful - I had to take a video - which is also available on my picasaweb page.</span></span> <br />
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</div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-69389345100868608872009-11-02T12:28:00.000-05:002010-01-06T17:48:19.663-05:00Beijing - A new Day in a New Country: Pt Un<div class="MsoNormal"><b>April 26th, 2009</b><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So I am back from <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place>.. News flash for those of you who did not know exactly how excited I was to be visiting a country I never even dreamed of going to. And for those of you not following my status on facebook. Many of you have asked me about my trip and how I liked it. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">So let's start at the beginning. My adventures began on the way to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> itself. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">I was meeting up with Kevin, my colleague and friend at <st1:city w:st="on">Newark</st1:city> airport where we would do the hop to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> in a Continental flight. My flight from <st1:city w:st="on">Toronto</st1:city> came in ahead of his, and we met up at the gate to the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> flight. We spent a few hours in the Continental club lounge before heading back for boarding. The flight was not quite full, and Kevin the lucky so-and-so got to board before I did – being the elite flier that he is. I was quite glad that he was on the same flight as I. It’s unnerving to land in a new country and not speak the language, never mind the fact that the 13 hour flight would not be quite so boring with someone to share it with. We’d planned to get some work done on the flight. So a couple of hours after the plane takes off, I decide to walk around and find him. The flight wasn’t quite full, and most of the rows were mostly occupied in the aisle and window seats with empty center seats. We could easily swap seats and find ones next to each other! Well, my walk around was futile. I didn’t find him. Must be in the bathroom – I thought, and headed back to my seat. A few hours later, same walk around, same result. Where was the man? I was starting to feel like I was in the twilight zone. A kindly flight attendant offered to help me look him up in the manifest. A few minutes later she came back with a puzzled look. There was no Kevin on board. Now I was DEFINITELY in the Twilight zone.. how could it be? Kevin is hard to miss (see pic) and he HAD boarded before I did. Where could he be? And besides, how come he didn’t come by to my seat – I had told him I was in 34A. This was getting weird. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The flight goes straight North – up over <st1:country-region w:st="on">Canada</st1:country-region> for about five hours, past Greenland, and then curves over the North Pole and drops South into <st1:city w:st="on">Siberia</st1:city>, <st1:country-region w:st="on">Mongolia</st1:country-region> and <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>. The ride over the North Pole is a sight to behold. Vast tracts of white – ice as far as the eye can see. I saw a crevasse that looked bigger than the <st1:place w:st="on">Grand Canyon</st1:place> – you could see the layers of ice in the buildup. I don’t know quite how deep it was. It’s scary and awe-inspiring, all at the same time. Somewhere, we crossed the 0 deg/180 deg longitude and it was the next day – just like that. The landscape changes slowly, oh so slowly. The ground as I see it is dry, jagged. Peaks of green pierce up through the light brown loamy soil, and I couldn’t make out if there were trees or not. Far to my right, I saw jagged, glistening white peaks. As we’re coming into <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> airspace, the signs of humanity increase. Fields of paddy? Soy? Cut into little squares. In the center of these squares are blue-painted metal building roof-tops. Communes? I don’t know. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The airport in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> is to the North-East of the city. As I come out of the plane, I see Kevin at the top of the escalators. You cannot imagine the relief I felt! We walked through an impressive airport, and like most international airports there are a series of duty free shops. We walk out into the sunlight, grab a cab. All around us were little flaky things that look like snow flying around. Poplar tree flowers, Kevin informed me. The <st1:state w:st="on">Guangdong</st1:state> highway leads into <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Beijing</st1:city></st1:place> city and is very like any other international highway – except the signs are in Chinese and English. Green poplars line the highway. But very soon I realized, driving here is like driving in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">India</st1:country-region></st1:place>. It’s a free for all. You got space? My car will nose in. Wow!!<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The hotel was about ½ hour away – the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Crowne</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Plaza</st1:placetype> <st1:placename w:st="on">Wuzhou</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">Park</st1:placetype></st1:place> View… overlooking the Bird’s nest stadium. Yes, it’s that close – literally across the street. It’s a great hotel; the staff all seemed to know Kevin – which was a relief. At the desk, while checking in, I heard a name – Eric. I turned to see another American checking in. It was Eric, our new Project manager whom neither Kevin nor I had met before. Kevin introduced us and we made plans to meet up after we’d all freshened up. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The room is like any other room in a five-star hotel. With one exception – there are no religious artifacts in the room. There was one more difference - which Kevin later pointed out. There are condoms in the bedside drawer – courtesy the hotel mini-bar!! Yes, you have to pay to use them. LMAO.<br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">That first day, we went for a walk. Eric needed a cell phone, and I needed a new SIM card. The phone I’d purchased in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">India</st1:country-region></st1:place> was going to come in handy. It was quite the experience. Kevin took us to the cell phone store, and we made our purchases. Then it was on for the walk. The streets are very clean. But quickly you spot the gobs of spit on the sidewalks. There are no beggars; in all my time there, I only spotted one couple busking – not a single other pan-handler. There aren’t that many bicycles either – something I’d come to believe was endemic to <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>. A lot of cars on the streets, but not many motorbikes. The cars are mostly either newer makes or really old ones. The ones I spotted most were Citroen, Buick, Hyundai, Honda, <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:city w:st="on">Toyota</st1:city></st1:place>, BMW, Acura and surprisingly the Mazda6. Crossing the street is desi-style – just run across. Having just come back from Pune, I was totally not surprised. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Single men – especially foreigners – will often get accosted by really pretty Chinese girls on the streets, who get really friendly and are willing to do anything – for money. Yes, you guessed it.. Professionals. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Next to our hotel was a karaoke bar – which was also a place to get special massages…...THAT kind of special massage. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Dinner was a revelation. Kevin took us to this small eatery, which was quite good. The food was good, too. But ordering from the menu was quite strenuous. We learnt that the easiest way to order was to point to menu – written in Chinese and English, and the waiter would write it down. You had to trust that they understood what you wanted. Do not order ice. And always order drinks out of a can or a bottle. Pointing is considered rude, so gesture in the general direction. Speaking loudly and slowly is completely pointless – its just hilarious watching someone try it. I know, one of our team – a big African-American man tried doing it with Diet Coke. Turns out its called Light Coke in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:country-region w:st="on">China</st1:country-region></st1:place>! And hand gestures are considered rude too. So sign language is kind of limited. But I digress. <br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">The next day I got one more lesson in communication. Kevin carries around this card in his wallet and made me and Eric get one each. On the one side is the address of the hotel – written in English and Mandarin. As we hailed a cab to get to work, he flipped the card to the side where he’d got one of our Chinese colleagues to write out directions to our work site in Chinese. ‘Shey-shey’ I found out was Thank you in Chinese. And we repeated that – A LOT!! The ride to the client site was interesting. In the distance were the mountains – I still haven’t figured out what that range is called. I must check it out on Google earth. The atmosphere was a little hazy, but not as smoggy as I had feared. And so began my first day in a Chinese workplace.<br />
</div>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3954625398524738791.post-25186497271057880412009-11-02T12:26:00.000-05:002010-01-06T18:37:28.020-05:00Beijing - Day One<h2><span style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; white-space: pre;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Things to do tomorrow</i></span></span></span></h2><h2><i>April 14th, 2009</i></h2><h2><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI'; font-size: 13px; font-weight: normal;">After traveling through a 12-hr time difference, 48 hours of waking up on 2 hours of sleep, a glass of wine, and a glass of caipirinha - Here's what I end up doing - writing poetry at 12:30 in the morning....Granted some of the references are rather specific and/or oblique... but hey!! It's my first night in China!</span></h2><span style="font-family: 'Segoe UI'; font-size: 10pt;">As I lay me down to sleep<br />
I pray the Lord my soul to keep<br />
I pray I wake up fresh and nice<br />
Have a glass of juice with no ice<br />
There's things to do, and places to go<br />
There's so much more that I don’t know<br />
History loads must take place somehow<br />
I have to write the code, just not now<br />
Sequencers to build, and then to test<br />
Field questions from the client, developers and the rest<br />
Think on my feet, just pray I dont fall<br />
And if I do, get up and stand tall<br />
Kedar needs help on his Delivery job<br />
And Jay needs to finish, and dont forget the OHUB<br />
Extractors are now crashing<br />
My hopes are now dashing<br />
Make the date, or just push on.....<br />
Did I miss something,<br />
Or did I add some on<br />
Two drinks and two hours of sleep<br />
You think I'm thinking straight?<br />
Heck, no - I'm done!</span>GirlOfFirehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09636607742914043718noreply@blogger.com0