Of Grape Farms and Reptile Restaurants

Bedeviled by a bout of lower intenstinal distraction, I may have missed what could have been the penultimate Harbin outing of the fall semster. Organized by the International office, the foreign teachers were escorted  to what the guides called a grape picking farm that was to be followed by a delicious lunch.

What they got was a grape picking experience and more. They were taken to a huge greenhouse operation about an hours drive out of town.

The greenhouses were home to muliple varieties of tomatoes, lettuce, cabbage, beans, bok choy and grapes in a variety of colours.

They got to ride in a pickers van, a bouncing, galloping ride on wooden benches and short bursts of high speeds between the different greenhouses.

Provided with a basket and scissors, they were given free rein to harvest any of the vegetables that were in season.

Armed with a second basket and scissors, they had their choice of grapes. The ulitmate healthy souvenir.










Farming urges satisfied, it was off to lunch. If you weren't feeling in the mood for something reptillian, fresh or frozen........

... there were plenty of amphibians on the menu.

Nonie got to play with her food in what may have been the worlds biggest bowl of turtle soup. Only someone forgot to tell the turtle.  Happily, the turtles were not on the menu but somebody certainly lied to the frogs.









And the seal by the front door was looking decidedly nervous.

A great day was had by all.





 

IXAT is not a Taxi Company

For our first two adventures in China, I thought the largest taxi company in Harbin was named the IXAT Taxi Company.

It is only recently that it dawned on me that IXAT is TAXI spelled backwards. On the drivers side door they have a decal that says TAXI but on the passenger side the decal reads from left to right IXAT. Who ever manufactured the decal thought it appropriate to reverse taxi when applying the decal to the other side of the vehicle. The newer taxis now have TAXI on both sides and thus the light came on. 

There are over 12,000 registered taxis with mispelled signage on the road in Harbin at any one time. The cost for travel by taxi is pretty reasonable compared to western costs. $8 Rmb for up to 3 kilometres. Our average cost to travel to most parts of Harbin is usually no more than 12 Rmb which is about $2.00 CAD.

Surprisingly, we tend to use the buses more often than taxis. The most compelling reason is that buses have to pick you up. Harbin, like most large cities, has rush hours in the morning and afternoon. Attempting to flag down a taxi during rush hour can be a long and frustrating experience.  During these periods, the taxis turn into mini-buses and drivers try to stuff as many passengers into the car as possible. They will pick you up as long as you are  going in the same direction as the other passengers already in the taxi. You only have a small window of opportunity to tell the driver where you are going before he drives off looking for another passenger to add to his car. My poorly pronounced Chinese makes it difficult to deliver  a quick and coherent destination to the driver and the taxi is gone before I can make a second attempt. Grrrrrr. If there are more than two of you, they won't even bother to stop and ask where you want to go making it necessary to hide some of your group and spring them on the driver once you have taken control of the back seat of the cab.  At least the bus must stop to let us on, but don't dilly dally and it only costs $1 Rmb. On the bus, you will however learn what it feels like to be a sardine packed in a tin can and marinating in a really funky smelling sauce.

The Volkswagon Jetta seems to be the predominate vehicle of choice for taxis. It is difficult to ascertain their model year as they all  seem to be stuck in the 80's as far as model styles go and I am sure they cannot be that old. They are not big cars but you can stuff up to four fairly large laowei (foreigners)  into them. But that is all, they will absolutely refuse to carry more than four.

There are other transportation options beside the bus or Jetta. Every neighbourhood has a fleet of jitneys circulating through them and are used for short trips around neighbourhood. The come in motorized and pedal styles. Costs vary and must be clearly negotiated before the ride.  If you are considering hiring a pedal powered jitney, look for the lean, skinny senior citizen type drivers. Don't be fooled by the big burly guys as they are gutted by the first hill.

Another option is the motorcycle taxi, but it is good for only one passenger.  Don't be fooled by the smiles, the price must be negotiated before lift off and be prepared for the ride of your life.  You will get up to and close to buses, trucks, cars and sometimes pedestrians as you careen down sidewalks to avoid traffic jams. It is on my list of things to do when I don't care about my life anymore.


The bus system will continue to be our chief mode of transportation for the forseeable future.
 

CHINA PART 3

The opportunity to spend the last year in Penticton was a wonderful and relaxing time. Connecting with our amazing friends,  some short trips to visit family, our Chinese daughter in St. Louis, travel to Ottawa to see the grandchildren and a little training kept us busy.  But as as life went on, the itch for new adventures began to take hold. This downtime had acted to rekindle our desire to travel. So only after a few months, we again started to explore our options.




We had been talking about South America so we started to explore the opportunities, with a focus on Chile and Argentina.   We had visited both countries and felt we could be comfortable living there for a year. Politically, both countries are reasonably safe but some recent political unrest gave us some pause for thought. We learned from friends that an acquaintance of ours who had been teaching in China for several years was now teaching in Ecuador. Research, showed us a country that is very stable and becoming a destination for many ex-pats due to it's temperate climate and reasonable cost of living. She was living in a city called Guayaquil which is located on the coast of Ecuador. The year round temperature in Guayaquil hovers around 70 degrees and with a job waiting for us when we arrived, it sounded very promising.  But for some reason, we had difficulty in making up our mind.


As the date to make our decision drew near our discussions more often then not kept returning to China. We had number of excuses why China kept moving to the top of the list. The need to start all over again in a new country when a return to Harbin would be so much simpler. A lame excuse really, as we have never been afraid to start over. The pay was lower than what we earned in Harbin. An even lamer excuse as money is at the bottom of the list of why we would be attracted to a new place. Bottom line, we missed our extended Chinese family and adding the lame excuse numbers 1 and 2 above, we are once again in Harbin. Oh, but we should not forget those seductive two hour long lunches and the chance to make new friends.

 

Besides I had been immortalized on the walls of the English Department and I just had to see it for myself.



Stay tuned faithful readers.

Iron Postmortom

Sitting in my coffee place, staring down at the chalked street signs of encouragement, drinking my morning coffee and nursing giant saucer sized blisters, I  am struggling to finish my last Ironblog. (Due to technical difficulties, the publishing of this blog was held up by the Great Wall.)





Completing an Ironman was never an item on my bucket list. It was however on my "If I ever have a psychological breakdown" list. As an Iron volunteer for over 20 years and having watched thousands of athletes finish the race, a number who were friends, I am very aware of the time and energy needed to attempt an Ironman. A family, long hours on the job and a strong to desire to have a life kept me from taking up the challenge. I already had enough challenges in my life and didn't need any more. But to be honest, I lacked the most important aspect for finishing an Ironman. Confidence.

A component that I continued to lack right up to the moment I entered the water to start the swim. As I stood on the beach waiting for start horn, I started chanting what had become my mantra for the past several months, "What the hell was thinking, What the hell was I thinking.........





The horn sounded and I began a slow walk into the water going over in my mind all the excuses I would use for not finishing the swim.

The game plan was to stay behind and wide of the main pack of swimmers, a zone called the "Washing Machine". A churning mass of triathletes bumping, pushing and climbing over  each other in an attempt to gain a few minutes on each other. Not a pleasant place to be for someone who is scared $h1+less in deep water.

One hour and fifty-four minutes later, I "front" crawled (teehee) out of the water in 2507th place . Hey, maybe I can do this.

The weather for the bike was perfect. comfortable temperatures and very little wind. Not many bikes left in the bike lot when I left, but hey! I hadn't drowned and I was getting on the bike.

Having ridden some or all of the course umpteen times I was more confident in my abilities on the bike and I started to pass athletes on a regular basis. Rules allow only 20 seconds to pass another athlete or you must maintain a 5 metre separation to avoid a drafting penalty. 7 hours and 25 minutes later, I was back in transition in 2126th place having gained almost 400 places. Starting to feel like I could do this.

My plan for the run was to try and complete the first half of the marathon in under three hours then gut out the last 21 kilometres relying on ibuprofen to carry the day. My plan almost worked perfectly accept for the two dinner plate size blisters that showed up around the 20 kilometre mark and blew up around the 30 kilometre mark causing me to walk much of the next ten kilometres.

At the 40 kilometre mark, my niece passed me providing the necessary impetus for me to run the last 2 kilometres and look pretty darn good at the finish line if I may say so myself.  Crossed the finish line in 15 hours and 20 minutes in 2068th place with a 5 hour 20 minute marathon.

Before I get too full of myself, I must tell you that an 82 year old nun finished about an hour after I did.  But then you have to consider who her running partner was.

The only thing left to do, is get the tattoo.  Probably won't hurt any more than the blisters did. And to all three of my faithful readers, you have my permission to hit me upside my head should I ever suggest doing something like this again.

A special thanks to Nonie for putting up with all my nonsense over the last year and being my SAG HAG with little or no complaining.