Last week in China. It actually didn't rain on Tuesday so we seized the opportunity to visit the "Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding." This is the largest single location for giant pandas and their picky and particular procreative habits in the world. I will be the first to admit that I went into the endeavor somewhat cynically, and was determined, to reveal the creatures as the animatronic robots, or tibetan dissidents in panda suits that I suspected them to be.
The base is really a big zoo, albeit one devoted entirely to the Giant Panda, and its completely unrelated beyond the name compatriot the Red Panda. Giant Pandas, according to recent genetic research, they are actually more closely related to their namesakes, bears. Red Pandas, on the other hand, are raccoons.
When we actually came upon their enclosures, all of my jadedness melted away. Instead of the depressing inactivity and boredom you usually see exhibited by animals in zoos, these pandas were very active. Granted, they were very actively lying on their backs and shoving bamboo nonstop down their throats, but occasionally one would get up and waddle over to where more bamboo awaited.
Go ahead, try to be jaded about these guys. I dare you.
Apparently bamboo is of little nutritional value, and as they lack stomachs, they are only able to actually digest 20 percent of what they eat. Thus, the enormous amount of time they spend each day eating, as well as the amount of time they spend lying down and eating as they can't afford to spend too much energy moving about.
Also, and this tidbit might soon be filed away in the way too much information about the giant panda file in your brain, so read on at your own peril, did you know that baby giant pandas can't poop on their own? Yes, if the mother doesn't ORALLY help her babies void their feces, then they will die from toxic shock. Sometimes, the mother will let her cubs die because she finds helping them poop with her mouth to be TOO GROSS. Can't say I blame her.
So, if the Giant Panda (procreative quirks, digestive and dietary inefficiencies, and baby fecal blockages and all) is not the perfect argument against intelligent design, then I don't know what is.
Later, we saw pandas playing with each other, wrestling, and fake fighting, and climbing all over the structures provided for them. Witnessing these animals clearly enjoying themselves melted even the ice encrusted piece of coal and clockwork machinery that passes for my heart.
In the Panda museum, I read that Pandas have a protothumb that allows them to grasp bamboo with a single paw as they eat, unlike other bears which have to grasp with both. When I learned this, I came to realize that it is only their natural sickliness, reluctance to breed, and the steady destruction of their natural habitat that keeps them from rising up and enslaving us. When that day inevitably comes, I want it on internet-based record that I was one of the first to say, "all hail our adorable cuddly panda overlords!"
Proto-Thumbs!
Battle Pandas!
The next day we booked passage to the Wenshu Bamboo Sea, about 375 km south of Chengdu. Its a known fact that that nonnautical things that are so massive in size and scope that they are known as "Seas" are breathtaking and awesome to behold. See Tatooine's Dune Sea as a prime example.
Wenshu was the location chosen by Ang Lee for the tree top fight scenes in "Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon" and much of "House of Flying Daggers" was filmed on location there as well. We were excited to get off the beaten tourist path as well. Wenshu is not one of Sichuan's most popular tourist destinations, and unfortunately we were soon to find out why.
Typically agonising and cramped bus ride took us to just inside the gates of the park. 3.5 hours = just over 6 hours in Chinese time.
Upon disembarking, we were immediately assailed by taxi drivers offering their services for tours of the park. Nobody had any English, but our steady stream of "Wo ti bu dong"s (I do not understand) didn't dampen their enthusiasm in the least.
We finally got in a cab with a particularly persistent individual named Mr. Wong (just like my high school Spanish! Teacher) who would become our guide and constant companion over the next 36 hours.
Mr. Wong soon dropped us off at the Bamboo Sea hotel, a grand old establishment that had definitely seen better days. Although we were VERY clearly the only guests, I feel like we did get gouged a bit on the price. 300 yuan a night, our most expensive accommodation to date, excepting the seller's market that existed atop Mt. Emei Shan. I even rather rudely asked what price Chinese people paid, but fortunately, no one understood me.
It's hard to figure out who the hotel was built for. Its expansive grounds were in a state of decay, and the enormous staff seemed to be fighting (and losing) a constant battle against entropy. Did high ranking party officials stay there back in the day? Was it used to show off China's lush bamboo forests to visiting foreign dignitaries? There were none of the hordes of Chinese tourists we had come to expect everywhere we went, but there were tons of mosquitoes, the first of their blood-sucking I'll wed had to deal with.
After checking in, we met Mr. Wong at his cab for our tour of the park. The bamboo forests were at our lowest elevation since Beijing, and the heat and humidity were merciless. I felt like i was melting, even in a moving car with the windows down.
It turns out that the Bamboo Sea is not a popular tourist destination for a reason: there just isn't that much to see. The groves of bamboo were admittedly very impressive, growing to heights of up to 60 meters and almost 12 inches in diameter. (I realize that I'm mixing metric and English measurements, but while its easy for me to imagine a meter as a little over three feet, I have next to know conception of a centimeter.) However, they were also kind of monotonous. Very quickly, I got the feeling that if you've seen one majestic and stately grove of bamboo, you've seen them all. Plus, bamboo is a grass and not particularly long lived so you lack even the gravitas of "this stalk was here when the mongols came, and it still stands today..." like you get with a place like Muir Woods or Redwoods.
Soon we had exhausted the parks somewhat meager offerings: Forgetting Worries Valley (a spectacular, if hazy view), man-faced bamboo, a rickety and somewhat terrifying chairlift ride offering a relatively impressive bird's eye view, Shaking Heaven Bridge, a fairly impressive waterfall...
Mr. Wong shuttled us back to our hotel were we spent a hot and mosquito infested night before returning to Chengdu to round out our China experience with some serious eating.
The Food
I was particularly excited about coming to Sichuan Province because of the food. I'm a big fan of Chinese food in general, but Sichuan food in particular. Sichuan dishes tend to be the spiciest items served in Chinese restaurants. If its got a couple of tiny chili peppers next to it on the menu, then odds are it is a Sichuan dish.
In this regard, Chengdu and the rest of Sichuan have been somewhat of a letdown. We've had some wonderful meals, but I wouldn't say that anything has been miles beyond some of the best Chinese food I've eaten in the states. Granted, there are so many first generation Chinese immigrants in America that finding truly Authentic cuisine is not too much of a problem for the determined gourmand.
Some highlights:
We've had some great hot pot meals (the food is cooked in a steaming cauldron of boiling oil right in front of you) including one where we were lead to the kitchen and allowed to choose our own fish, but this style of cooking is both labor intensive and time consuming, two things I am most definitely NOT looking for when I'm hungry.
Actual hotpot menu...
Ma- I don't know how to accent it properly, but when said correctly it loosely translates to mean "Sichuan Numbing Spice." It is a tiny black pepper corn that is served in everything here from the oil in the hot pots, to the sauces of the stir fries. It is not particularly spicy in the scovile unit sense of the word, but as the translation suggests, it produces a not unpleasant numbing sensation on the tongue. The effect is somewhat akin to putting your tongue on a battery: it's mildly disconcerting, yet you keep wanting to do it.
Mapo Doufu - Turns out the way to make tofu palatable is to soak it in chili sauce and cook it with rendered pork fat. The taste is incredible, although I still couldn't escape the texture issues that have always plagued me with tofu.
The greens- my god, I don't know how the Chinese do it! With each meal we would order some sort of stir fried green (spinach, bok choi, broccoli rabe, etc...) to supplement the main course. I eat a lot of vegetables these days, but nothing like this. Once again, I suspect that the secret has something to do with rendered pork fat, and maybe some garlic as well.
Some disappointments:
The spices- Not once did I feel like a dish was sufficiently spicy for my tastes unless I ate the chili peppers that everything is cooked in. Waiters tried to warn us off spicy dishes every time we ordered them, and I wonder if they've dealt with complaining Americans (we don't exactly blend in here) before. I even wonder if they had the kitchens back off the spices just in case. I can't imagine that my pallette is so seared by this point that I find mild what the Sichuanese consider to be spicy.
Street Food- ordinarily a highlight of any trip I take, the food cooked and served on the street seemed particularly lackluster. I'm sure there is amazing street food somewhere in this country, but we never found it. The same thing could be said for dumplings, which, with the exception of the ones we ate at the night market waaaaay back in Beijing, were consistently greasy and slimy.
Chinese approximations of western or other Asian dishes- here are some things I'm looking forward to eating upon my return ( NE locals take notice in case you'd like to go and eat any or all of these things with me when I get back) 1. A cheeseburger 2. Cheese in general 3. Sushi 4. Ice Cream (particularly a hot fudge Sunday) and 5. Cheesecake 6. A Burrito
Here are some things I will need to detox from upon my return: 1. Snickers Bars 2. Oreos. Most of you know that I've been trying to avoid sweets as a general rule these days, but those were often the only recognizable items available for sustenance on interminable Chinese bus rides. Trust me when I tell you that a choice between a Snickers and a vacuum sealed bag of spiced chicken feet (available everywhere and quite popular if my observations of the locals are any indication) is really no choice at all. I'm a pretty adventurous eater, but even I have my limits. Yes, processed and prepackaged chicken feet lie somewhere beyond the horizon of my culinary daring do, past yak butter tea, past snake, and even past scorpions.
Overall, we enjoyed some very delicious meals, especially a shredded pork and green pepper dish that was so deliciously beyond the sum of its apparent parts that we thought the secret ingredient might be ambrosia or that magical elf bread they eat in Lord of the Rings, but in truth, we spent the rest of the trip chasing the quality of the Peking Duck we had during our first two nights in Beijing.
The best part was the head!
Chris leaves tomorrow, and because we were idiots about coordinating with each other, I leave on Sunday. Not sure what I will do with an entire extra day in Chengdu by myself, but I'm sure I'll find something.
China's had some real highlights (Tibet, Everest, Tiger Leaping Gorge, monkey assaults spring immediately to mind) with some ridiculous lows (bus rides, air pollution, big cities in general) sandwiched in there for spice.
Next time I travel, I promise to visit a country comfortable enough to allow people access to such dangerous sites as YouTube, Facebook, and blogspot. That way you can read the blog if you want, but your inbox will not be constantly inundated with unsolicited emails full of my rambling and digression-prone accounts of my adventures.
Sign in the Chengdu Airport bathroom as I was leaving. Bye Bye China!
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