Al comes out of his shell

Our last full day in China, and we’re not resting on our laurels here.  We were up early to get ready for our final performance, at the Confucious institute.  This was the group that helped bring us to China, and has served as our helpful and hospitable hosts while we’ve been here, so we were happy to visit their headquarters for one last show.

We’re mostly running like a well-oiled machine by now, but traffic delayed our progress this morning.  Luckily this was a smaller and more informal concert, for employees and students at the institute, so it didn’t seem to cause many problems (though we did have to skip our planned visit to the Summer Palace afterward).

That’s me, Tom, and Dave, valiantly climbing this large flight of stairs.

The concert was another success, despite a few technical issues.  This was Al’s last chance, and sadly he still proved to be superfluous.  Tom decided he deserved to come out of his case one time, to get a chance to see Confucious.    The rest of us got to spend a little time wandering through the institute’s mini-museum, containing arts and crafts as well as interactive exhibits about other facets of China’s cultural history.

After one last huge lunch, it was time to head out of the city to the Badaling section of the Great Wall, about an hour and a half outside the city.  Once again, the weather was chilly and damp (though fortunately not actually raining), and once again many of our group had not dressed entirely appropriately.  I was definitely regretting my bare legs, but figured I would eventually warm up from exertion.

Tom and Michael were a big hit with the elderly Chinese ladies

From where we started the wide expanse of wall stretched away as far as the eye could see (which, given the damp mist, was actually not all that far) in both directions, climbing up and down over the steeply rolling hills and winding through the rugged terrain.  It was mind-boggling to contemplate how much effort must have been involved to build this huge edifice in such challenging surroundings.  Our guide told us that the Great Wall is also considered the largest cemetary in China, because so many people died during construction and were buried alongside or within the wall itself.

Our set off at various paces — this time I was wise enough not to attempt to join the fastest group — and began our trek.  I can’t imagine trying to do it in the rain, because the steepness of the grade at some points was quite a challenge even in dry weather.  You definitely want good tread on your shoes.  There are watchtowers spaced out along the wall, and paths that you can take that run alongside as well.  Along the north side, you can see the holes left for archers to use.  It’s hard to imagine someone thinking this was a good place for a battle.

After one last round of gift shops (these proved to be rather pricy) it was time for our last dinner.  Our guides had been promising a “surprise” all day, and I think some in our group had allowed themselves to hope that it involved the Pizza Hut we’d passed earlier — but it was not to be.  The surprise was the famed Peking Duck dish, which consisted of duck covered in crispy skin that you put into thin tortilla-like wraps with plum sauce, onions, and cucumbers — much like the moo shu pork that you would get in an American restaurant.  It was actually delicious, even if it was not covered in cheese.  There was plenty of other food as well, and the scallion pancakes proved an enormous hit.

Stasko family rocks the house

We were in the top section of our restaurant all by ourselves, and there was a large stage that of course could not go to waste.  Our guides, who were very fun and entertaining, had been working valiantly to keep everyone from falling into an exhausted stupor on the buses, by encouraging singing performances and contributing some themselves.  Now the kids were eager to show what they could do, and quite a few instruments made their way into the restaurant.  The drummer in the group even went out to the bus and retrieved poor, neglected Al — who finally got his day in the sun.  Turns out, when fully assembled, he turns into a fancy drum with a foot pedal.  Tom was tearing up a bit, as he photographed “Al’s first recital”.

“Victoria” and “Christina” take their turn (that’s Al in the background).

The kids (and our guides) had a great time doing some final silly singing and dancing together, and it was the perfect way to wrap up the trip.  There was a lot of laughing (and a few tears) as everyone got ready to say goodbye to their China families and return back to real life.

As we got ready for our final morning, initially we thought we’d get to sleep in a little (for the first time on the whole trip).  Sadly, the political conference that’s happening has resulted in unpredictable road closings and traffic snarls — so it was 7am breakfast once again, even though

The start of the Urals

our flight didn’t leave until 2pm.  No one wanted to contemplate the prospect of having our group of 70 people miss that flight.

As it turned out, we got to the airport with plenty of time, and go through all the various hurdles with no difficulty.  The Palmer/Pavlik family was at the front of the line this time, which allowed us to snag some window seats.  And it sure was worth it, as we flew north over the stunning Ural mountains.  Their start looked like they’d been placed there by machinery — a straight line in the ground, with flat plains on one side and large mountains on the other.  As we continued north, frozen rivers snaked among the peaks, which eventually became snow-covered as we approached the Arctic.

The windows on the plane didn’t have shades, but instead controls to darken them. Unfortunately, the powers that be on Hainan Airlines decided that it was bedtime (at 6pm) and darkened all the windows.  It was very frustrating to see the beautiful views fade to black.  But we were all thrilled to see Boston appear several hours later, and even happier to see that we hadn’t lost anyone when we got off the plane.  Our yellow school buses transported us back to the middle school, where there were many joyous reunions.  We chaperones were sad to see the trip end, but happy to hand our responsibilities back over to the parents!

A couple of days ago, when we were melting in the heat and sun in Xi’an, I was fantasizing about cool weather.  Cold would be SO much better than hot, I told myself.  Well, the weather gods listened with a vengeance.  Upon our arrival in Beijing this morning, we were greeted by temps in the 40s accompanied by a cold drizzle.

Parents out there may be aware that kids are not so good at listening when you tell them to dress warmly.  Many of our crew straggled out of the train wearing shorts, sundresses, T-shirts, and/or sandals.  I thought I had reasonable clothing — pants, sneakers, a fleece, and a raincoat — and I was STILL cold.

Who knew a saxophone was a “dangerous good”?

We were glad to get the chance to visit the Olympic village, though.  Unfortunately, the security checkpoint showed photos of a large number of forbidden items, which apparently included saxophones.  Or, rather, all musical instruments — so Mr. Ervin’s ever-present guitar got confiscated.  Apparently they’re not big on impromptu performances here.  (He got it back unscathed as we exited.)

Those of us of a certain age well remembered the Bird’s Nest Stadium, which looms above the large square outside it.  Some of the swimmers in our group were happy to get their photos in front of the Water Cube, used for all the swimming events.  We also saw the official Olympic rings and the tower that had held the Olympic flame.  (Also, there was a souvenir shop just outside the gates, which our guide told us had some of the best prices in China.  Zoe and I bought some chopstick sets here that we later saw at the Great Wall for four times the price.  And there was an American-style coffee shop!  I’m not sure what was the best part — the taste, the warmth, or the caffeine.)

After lunch, on the walk from the buses to our next stop, the rain started to pick up.  Several people stopped in a convenient shop to buy $2 umbrellas and rain ponchos.  It was an inauspicious start to our tour of the Forbidden City, one of the top tourist attractions in China.

Mr. Ervin had again struck terror into the hearts of the chaperones with tales of how the Forbidden City would be more crowded than anyplace we’d been (this seemed impossible), that it was a large area that was a virtual labyrinth, that we would not be coming back out the same entrance where we came in, and

basically giving us the impression anyone who blinked or took a wrong step would have to take up residence in the Forbidden City because we’d likely never find them again.  (I am beginning to think Mr. Ervin’s strategy for keeping everyone from complaining about anything is to set expectations very, very low.)  The plus side of the rain was that it was not very crowded at all, and we had no difficulty keeping track of our little family.  (They were mostly huddled under the nearest cover, shivering.)

The escalator had a mirrored ceiling

The Forbidden City was beautiful, though — a seemingly endless series of palaces and gardens covering about 180 acres.  (We walked straight through the broad path running down the center, so fears of getting lost in a labyrinth may have been overblown.)  The picture of all the bright umbrellas floating through the gardens gave the impression of a watercolor painting.  As with the other places we’ve been, the site has been meticulously restored in every detail.

In a moment of great incongruity, our next stop was a glittering area of luxury malls.  This is not something that I would normally have been particularly excited about, but at this point our group was just desperate to get inside and

So close, China, so close.

warm up.  (We also guessed, correctly, that they would have nice bathrooms.)  We were free to roam for a little while before dinner, so we checked out the indoor ski slope (small, because the surface moved on a conveyor belt), observed the virtual reality roller coaster ride, and enjoyed the giant escalator that went straight to the fifth floor.  Many of the shops had English names or phrases, but in some cases they just seemed to be random words strung together, and in others didn’t get it quite right (e.g. “Coven Garden” instead of “Covent Garden”, making the high-end shop sound like a witches’ den).

Dinner was at the mall, but did not turn out to be pizza and burgers.  We had passed a McDonald’s and  Pizza Hut in the same area earlier, so a few people had hope.  Still, there was a Dairy Queen in the mall, so that was something.  Dave got to enjoy a birthday Blizzard before heading back to the hotel.

For some reason, we weren’t able or weren’t allowed to see Tiananmen Square.  It wasn’t clear why, exactly — there is some kind of big political convention going on here so it might have something to do with that.  Mr. Ervin did have the buses drive by it on our way home, so a quick glimpse is all we got.

Our guides held these little stuffed animals aloft on poles to help us follow them through the crowds. By the end of the outing, Purple Bunny didn’t look so good.

This was the exciting night where we got to take an overnight train!  (Spoiler alert: not like the movies.)

But first, we ventured on top of the Xi’an city wall to go biking.  Impressively, they had enough bikes to outfit our group of 60+, with some to spare.  A full circuit around the top of the wall was 8 flat miles, perfect for a leisurely ride.  And we finally had one day of seasonal weather in the 70s.  (Spoiler alert: it would be the only one, as temps the next day would plummet into the 40s).

We waited in line for our single or tandem bikes. then set off around the perimeter.  It was really fun crusing the top of the ancient city wall, past towers and lanterns, with the city skyline in the distance.  There was also a road race happening at the same time (and in fact Tom apparently nearly took out into the female winner just before she crossed the finish line).  And, to the kids’ joy, there was even a shop that sold ice cream close to the finish point.

There were also lots of locals who wanted to take our photos.  Half of our family got trapped with their bikes inside a large crowd of people and were unable to move forward until all the photos were taken.  Zoe and Evie got pulled aside by a preschool teacher, who carefully arranged all her adorable charges in a ring around them.

This is the sort of photo that led to the problem.

I’m looking at my photos, trying to figure out where it was we went next.  It was another crowded market street.  Things are a bit of a blur at this point.  I think there was a drum tower and a bell tower involved.  The bells were rung to open the city gates in the morning, and the drums were beat to close them at night.  Or possibly vice versa.  We’re getting kind of tired here.  The thing I do remember is that I was holding my camera up high, taking a picture of the crowd, and was looking up at my camera, and fell into a trash can that was directly in my path, and then had to run around to all the chaperones trying to find hand sanitizer. (Edited to

Big Wild Goose Pagoda

add: Zoe, with her youthful brain, remembers.  It was the famous Muslim quarter, and featured lots of local shops and foods.  We were advised by our guide to avoid the latter.)

Our next stop was the Big Wild Goose Pagoda, a Buddhist pagoda within the Daci’en Template complex.  As with everywhere we’ve been here, the surrounding grounds were lovely and immaculate.  The city of Xi’an, in addition to being the ancient capital, is also one of the endpoints of the Silk Road — which explains the huge amount of history to be found here.  Because of an earthquake, it leans somewhat like the famous Italian tower.  We were not able to climb up in this one, though.

Our guide, who was very funny and interesting, did take us into a large room full of artwork.  Historically, this temple provided free housing to the top students in China, who were often too poor to travel to study in the capital otherwise.  We were told that this tradition continues today — and there are still monks in residence here.  To help earn their keep and support the temple, they sell their art.  Our guide gave us a demonstration of calligraphy and drawing with the traditional Chinese brush.  The artwork was a bit out of our budget, but I did take the opportunity to pay the artist-in-residence to write Nadia and Lanie’s names in Chinese characters to bring home for them.

Then it was time for the train.  I should say that initially I was very excited about the overnight train, with visions of the mystery and romance you see in the movies dancing through my head.  Some of the other chaperones were less enthusiastic.  And we all felt our spirits dampen somewhat when Mr. Ervin started talking about his last experience on the train, where he’d been in a “hard sleeper” (the cheaper berths, which are open to the aisles) and ended up in a staring contest with some random ruffian who was trying to go through the baggage.  We were told that given the number of us on the train, most would probably end up in the hard sleepers.

Luckily, someone decided to question our Chinese guides a little later on, and found out that we all had “soft sleepers” — four-person rooms with a locking door — and we all breathed a sigh of relief.

But first we had to get through the train station.  After the last time, we also had a fair bit of trepidation around this process.  As it turned out, security in Xi’an was not like in Chengdu — we had to go through a couple of scanners and get a pat-down from the guards, but at least no one had to rifle through our luggage or steal our toiletries.  On the other hand, there was a major design flaw in this station.  After schlepping all our possessions across the station and through the multiple security checkpoints (keep in mind at this point I was carrying a large framed panda print in addition to my normal luggage), we were confronted with a large set of stairs.  Turned out we had to go up three flights, across a short hall, and then down three flights again.  And we didn’t have a lot of

An unsavoury-looking lot.  Would you trust your children with these people?

extra time.  At least my suitcase was small and relatively light — others were much worse off.  I don’t know who ended up carrying the huge and heavy percussion suitcase, but Tom, of course, had Al along for the ride.

The train was another adventure.  The seats had been assigned pretty randomly, so we had to do some quick swapping around to make sure that, for instance, we didn’t have a kid alone in a car with three strangers.  We didn’t have much time for this, and I ended up getting stuck on the wrong car after trading my berth.  Fortunately I was able to find out that they would open all the connecting doors once we got going, so I didn’t actually have to spend the trip standing in the hallway.

Not that the cabins were much better.  They were TINY, with bunk beds on each side that took up most of the available space.  There was very little room for luggage, and what storage there was involved hoisting it onto a shelf above the door, about 8 feet up.  It was quite a precarious endeavor trying to balance yourself while gathering enough strength to shove the suitcases upward.  It was not exactly the accommodations that Murder on the Orient Express had let me to expect.  (Also, when some of us later tried to go to the lounge car, we found out that (a) there were no seats available, and (b) we had to pay to stay there.)

Nevertheless, the train seemed to be great fun for the kids, who pretty much started up a series of small roving parties in the various cabins.  I felt a bit sorry for the other people who were in our carriages.  Eventually, though, everyone settled down and got some degree of sleep — mostly rather uncomfortable and interrupted, but better than nothing.  The kit I’d been given on the plane — containing toothbrush, toothpaste, an eye mask, ear plugs, and a pair of socks that served passably as a towel — came in very handy.

Today was the day I hit a bit of a wall. It was through no fault of our itinerary, which included a one of the top attractions in China, or of our guides, who were interesting and informative. But unfortunately there was a Chinese holiday today — and also unfortunately, the temperatures got to around 95 humid degrees. Between the massive crowds and the crushing heat, the day began to take on the quality of a death march.

Our first stop was the famed Terra Cotta Warriors, an astonishing archaeological find from the 70s. Around 246 BC, emperor Qin began construction on his tomb — and spared no expense. Over the course of around 40 years, a huge number of fully detailed, life-sized soldiers were constructed in formation. They were created to mimic a real army, with different uniforms and styles for the different ranks of soldier. Each one has a unique face. (I wonder if this was an ancient fundraising technique. Get your face on a warrior, kind of like how you can sometimes now name a brick at the new library or whatever.) There were also fully-equipped horses and other apparatus of war. The site is only partially excavated — the soldiers were colorfully painted, but as soon as they’re exposed the colors fade away. The Chinese government is waiting to continue the excavation until the technology exists to preserve the colors.
Gazing out at the thousands of warriors, constructed in painstaking detail thousands of years ago, should have been an awe-inspiring experience. Unfortunately it was hard to get in to the proper frame of mind while fighting your way through thousands of actual people all trying to look at the same thing.

My favorite part ended up being a slightly quieter section that displayed a half-sized bronze chariot and horses that was also constructed for the tomb. It was incredibly detailed and there were various exhibits showing all the items that had been found in the chariot — from over sixty small, perfectly formed arrows, to food containers, handkerchiefs, and a spare whip for the horses — basically everything that would actually be found in a real chariot heading into battle during that timeframe. (Also, there was really good gelato in the gift shop.)

Our guides had an excellent innovation here — each of us was given a receiver to hang on our ear, and our guide could then speak easily to all of us at once without yelling or having to round everyone up. We chaperones, who spend a substantial portion of our time

I have no idea why our ice cream said this.

trying to herd or round people up, were wishing we could have these devices for the entire trip. Tom is seriously considering buying them for his next family vacation. It seemed like all the other tourist groups were equipped with them too.

Our next stop was the Huaqing Palace and Hot Springs, used by Chinese emperors over thousands of years.  Again, this was a lovely destination, and it was not quite as crowded as the Terra Cotta Warrior museum. But it was so, so hot. We shuffled around after our guide, looking at the ancient pools and listening to her talk about the history, but it was hard to focus. We would have been tempted to jump into the ancient pools except that they didn’t have any water in them. This looked like an awesome place to spend a cool, quiet day — there were temples way up on the adjacent mountain and lovely pathways leading up to them — but today being what it was, we were very thankful that this hike was not on the agenda.

Things really started to look up at dinner time, though. A dumpling feast! We were brought to the third floor of an extremely beautiful and ornate theater. The room was air conditioned! Waiters appeared at the chaperone table with glasses of beer that were actually cold! (Cold drinks have been non-existent here. Water isn’t even served at room temperature — it’s generally brought in a teapot steaming hot. At almost every restaurant we’ve had Coke and Sprite on our tables — we assume because they’re trying to cater to American tastes — but it’s always warm.) The bathroom had Western toilets (a great rarity) and toilet paper! The menu said we’d be getting 16 different kinds of dumplings! Everyone’s mood immediately became festive.

The dumplings were delicious, and it was so fun to see new varieties keep coming out. There were the standard meat and vegetable kind, but also tofu and mushroom (in green dough, shaped like frogs), and something that was maybe tahini or bean paste (shaped like little hedgehogs). There were steamed, baked, and friend dumplings, and even a couple of dessert varieties. Everyone ended the meal happy, and we ate almost everything.

Happy chaperones

After dinner we were ushered downstairs to front row seats for the show. It told the story of the one female Chinese emperor, through live music (performed on traditional Chinese instruments) and dance. The sets and costumes were amazing. It’s a testament to the excellence of the performance that we were all able to stay awake for it, despite high levels of exhaustion. Today, at the theater as well as at the Terra Cotta Warriors, was the

first time we started seeing other Westerners. There is so much to see and do in this city that I have to think tourism will really take off at some point.

Today was Lily and Claire’s birthday, and our kind guides set up “long noodles for a long life”…

…and even a special cake and birthday crowns.

Another day, another early morning, another performance. The kids continue to hold up amazingly well, for the fifth performance within two and a half days. This time we were headed to a bilingual elementary school in Chengdu. The cute little kids in their matching uniforms provided a different kind of audience than the college students, but no less enthusiastic.

When we arrived on our buses there were already students positioned in two lines on either side of the entrance path, clapping for us as we made our way into the school. Soon all the different classes were jogging out onto the field in formation, smiling and waving to us, with a space of honor reserved for us in the center. After watching the small Chinese children effortlessly form neat, evenly-spaced lines, we attempted to marshal our straggling crew into some kind of order as well.

We were first treated to dance, kung fu, and face-changing performances from the students and teachers. During the face-changing show, the star’s mask switches in the blink of an eye, like magic. From the audience, it’s perplexing to contemplate how it’s done. The star of this particular show could not have been more than nine or ten, so it was particularly impressive. (We also admired his fortitude in dancing around in a heavy costume, headpiece, and mask in full sun on another ninety-degree day.)

Our performance was inside in the auditorium. There was not room for all the students, so only a small number were able to attend in person — but the performance was live-streamed to all the other classrooms. As with our other shows, the first few rows were reserved for various dignitaries from the school and local government.

There is a high level of formality here that we’ve seen with each of our performances. Mr. Ervin knew there would be exchanging of gifts, so he brought along a beautiful carved wooden eagle he’d commissioned from the school shop teacher, a talented wood-worker. Beyond that we had a bit of a random grab bag — a few moose stuffed animals, a whole pile of pottery made by high school art students, a bunch of T-shirts apparently pulled out of the middle school supply closet, and a few “Durham” T-shirts that Al picked up at Rite Aid right before the trip. (This was chaperone Al, not percussion suitcase Al. The latter did not provide any gifts at all.) These were distributed to chaperones and a few students to carry in our luggage.

Things started out well at Chengdu University. The ranking dignitary and Mr. Ervin made lovely speeches and exchanged gifts. The carved eagle was duly presented. However, things went downhill at Sichuan University. They presented us with a beautiful piece of artwork on a scroll, with an accompanying speech about the significance of this form of art — and there we were, standing with some random pottery items and a few T-shirts. I think those on the stage wanted to sink through the floor — and some of us in the audience did as well.

Things got even worse at the school. Not only did they present Mr. Ervin with two large framed prints of pandas, with the usual speech about the artist and the history of the art form — but they then called all the chaperones up in front and gave each of us a panda print as well. (Lord knows how I will get it home, since it doesn’t fit in my suitcase.) Mr. Ervin did his best to rescue our stuffed animal presentation by adlibbing a speech about the local significance and noble character of the moose, but it was pretty hopeless. (At our final performance in Beijing the other day, we all just quietly left our remaining pottery and T-shirts on a table in the back of the room and sneaked away — after lugging them around for days, we certainly had no plans of lugging them back home again.)

The group pulled off another great performance, and Zoe managed to keep her electric cello operational throughout. The pop song portion of the program is incredibly high-energy, and it’s amazing that the kids can pull this off day after day. They’ll now be able to relax a bit, since the bulk of the performing is now over. There’s only one more small concert in Beijing at the end of the trip — until then, we have a few days to tour and relax.

After the concert we had a mini ping pong tournament with some of the kids from the school.  They were clearly throttling their skill level, and as soon as any opponent showed the slightest bit of skill they would ratchet up their own level accordingly.  After all the movie star treatment, it was a good ego check to find all of us getting crushed by nine-year-olds.

It was also time to say goodbye to Chengdu. Originally we were to have taken an overnight train to Xi’an, our next destination — but it was changed to a bullet train because of logistical issues. (The jury was still out on what kind of train we’ll be taking to Beijing for the final leg of the trip.) Though I was a little sad to miss out on the romance of the sleeper train, it was also pretty cool to take a train that travels 200 miles per hour.

First, though, we had to make it through the train station. This proved to be the most stressful experience of the trip. It was mobbed with people, it was not clear where to go, there were several different security checks, and generally chaos everywhere. We were all laden with lots of luggage/instruments/etc. Our Chinese helpers had their hands full trying to get the full group of us through security and checked in on time. At one point my group went through a security check and six out of the seven of us had our luggage pulled aside to a table where security

Chinese countryside, as seen from the train

personnel were standing. However, they pretty much ignored us so we were completely unclear on what to do next. We heard from someone else that we had something in our luggage that wasn’t allowed, but were given no guidance as to what that might be. Claire had to give up her perfume in a glass bottle, but none of the rest of us had any idea. We were reduced to holding up random items for our Chinese helper to check on (nail clippers? a razor? bug spray?) but never got any answers. Eventually we just picked up our bags and left the area — I figured that if someone stopped us maybe they would have to give us some guidance on what to do next, but as it turned out no one did.

Evening arrival in Xi’an

Then we had to board the train, which proved to have no space for all our luggage. It was a massive effort for our whole large group to get large suitcases stowed away in the overhead racks, and several people ended up having to keep them in their seat with them. Sadly this was the case with Al, who was definitely too large to fit overhead. Everyone was also very nervous because our guide told us we’d have three minutes to exit the train in Xi’an before it started moving to its next stop in Beijing. Given how long it’d taken us to get ON the train, this seemed daunting. We also had been given stern instructions that basically doom would rain down on our heads if anyone lost their ticket (yeah, at least one kid lost a ticket).

Apart from all this stress, the three-hour journey went smoothly. The Chinese countryside was quite a surprise. Not far from Chengdu we got into the mountains, and the scenery outside looked more like Switzerland than what I would picture for China. There were lots of little villages of two-story houses nestled into the hills, surrounded by rivers and farmland. (Every now and then we’d come across a little group of identical skyscrapers, which reminded us where we were.) We spent lots of time in tunnels. It must have been a spectacularly difficult line to build.

Xi’an is an ancient city, with history as the intermittent capital of the Chinese empire dating back 3000 years. It’s also a beautiful modern city, with the buildings and lights making it look comparable to one of the nicer sections of Manhattan. It definitely had more of an urban feel than Chengdu, despite being smaller (10 million people vs. 16 million). I was told, however, that Chengdu is actually similar but that we were staying on the outskirts and just never got to see the real urban core. The center of Xi’an is surrounded by an old city wall, and our hotel was inside this center. Each of

Xi’an old city walls

our two buses had a Chinese tourist guide who told us about the history of the city and kept us entertained with funny stories and songs. All of our guides here have been excellent, and have really earned their salaries staying with our group during our whole 15-hour days.

There was talk of heading into the city for some kind of outing, but in the end everyone was too tired to muster the energy for it. These travel days, when you’re responsible for sixty-something kids and all their passports and equipment, take a lot out of you. The best that we chaperones could do was to meet in the lobby for a beer and toast to a successfully completed journey.

Today was somewhat similar to yesterday, except that we had to travel much further to get to another school, Sichuan University. That meant similar logistical challenges to yesterday, except that we had to bring everything we’d need for the whole day. It was also an early morning after a late night – and did I mention the heat? It’s been in the nineties and getting hotter every day. Nevertheless, these kids have managed to be where they need to be each morning, with multiple sets of clothing, instruments, music stands, music, stand lights, and all their other gear. As far as I know, no one has forgotten anything critical. It’s pretty impressive to see.

When we reached our destination, we were first greeted by the university’s Chinese dance groups, who put on a performance for us. It was a lovely set of Chinese folk dances, and the kids responded enthusiastically — clearly remembering what a nice reception they’d received from their Chinese audiences. Afterwards they asked us to perform something, and the kids were able to muster up a couple of a capella performances since they didn’t have their instruments with them. This was followed by the usual selfie session.

Then it was our group’s turn to perform, in a similar outdoor venue to yesterday. They had timed our concert for noon outside the student cafeteria, so there was quite a crowd. The kids managed another great, high-energy performance despite the oppressive heat. The chaperones mostly just huddled in the shade on the edge of the square.

For lunch we went to a restaurant and had the usual lazy-Susan feast of a huge number of local specialties. We continue to be unable to make a dent in the food, even the adult table where most people are actually eating. Many of the kids seem to be subsisting entirely on white rice supplemented with ice cream purchased during outings.

This afternoon was a treat. We knew only that we were headed to “Huanglongxi Ancient Town”. On the way the bus stopped and picked up several young women. It turned out that they were English students at the university, and had been recruited to shepherd our various groups around. “Naomi” and “Catherine” joined our group and we set out to explore the town. (All the guides here use English names, that they chose in English class, just like we do in our foreign language classes.) It was absolutely beautiful, with traditional Chinese architecture, amazing landscaping, a winding stream crisscrossed by bridges and stepping stones, and picturesque shops.

Selfie with Old Time Photo guy

I should say here that shopping in China has been far more pleasant than shopping in some other foreign locations we’ve been. While haggling is customary, the sales people are non-aggressive and mostly friendly (though very few speak English). Maybe it’s because foreign tourism here is still fairly unusual and these locations mostly cater to Chinese tourists, but we don’t feel like we’re walking around with big dollar signs on our foreheads. When people in the shops or in the roads smile and wave to us, they aren’t trying to sell us anything — they are

Weirdly, you could bottle-feed the fish here.

just delighted at the novelty of seeing a bunch of Westerners filing through their streets. This particular place had a kind of Chinese version of “old time photo”, where you could dress up in traditional Chinese costume and get your picture taken. A young man in full Chinese dress approached us in the crowd and asked (through our guides) to take our picture, and we immediately thought he was going to ask for money — but instead he just beamed at us, pulled out his cell phone, and posed for selfie with the girls before thanking us and going back in to work. (Anytime we stopped to take a group photo with our chaperone group, all the locals around us would pull out their cameras as well. We do wonder what they do with all these random photos.)

Anyway, it was a really pleasant place to shop, with stores selling tourist souvenirs interspersed with shops selling Chinese produce, spices, and snacks. Zoe and I usually are not too enthusiastic about shopping stops, but this was one of my favorite places we visited. Naomi bought us some traditional candy from the region (which was something like — and also totally unlike — cotton candy. She described it as “very sweet”, which showed how different the concept of “sweet” is to US vs. Chinese citizens.) Abbey played rock-paper-scissors against a food truck employee to win a free food sample. We saw elderly people playing majong along the back streets. With the asking price of the items I purchased being $3 (a fan) and $2 (some tea from the region), I didn’t feel the need to haggle. Zoe bought a ring that initially looked to be more expensive, but even she didn’t haggle — all you had to do was ask what the price was, and then got quoted a value about a third of what was posted. Having Naomi and Catherine with us was a win-win — they helped us talk with locals and shopkeepers while we gave them a chance to practice their English. (We later saw several of our English student helpers come to support us at the concert that night.)

Eventually it was time to head back to the university. We were excited about our early dinner, which was three kinds of dumplings. The kids had the opportunity to learn to form the dumplings (“just like Crazy Rich Asians!”) and we were relieved not to have to undertake another huge feast just a few hours after the last one. Zoe was so nervous that she just paced around for most of the dinner hour. She’s accustomed to blending into the crowd as a flute/cello player — but on this trip, there are only two cellos and she’s playing an electric one, which is a key part in a lot of the rock pieces, since the band doesn’t have a bass.

By the time we arrived at the auditorium at 6:15 for the 7pm show, it was already 3/4 full. The crowds continued to stream in, filling the back, sides, and aisles. (Several people commented on the apparent lack of a fire code.) It was another excellent show, despite a series of malfunctions in the cello section. Both the brand new cellos went badly out of tune mid-concert, to the point that Zoe and Jorgen

Full house 15 minutes before performance time!

had to stop playing. Zoe tried to switch to the electric, but the amp malfunctioned so she was only able to get no sound at all, or a deafening level. So the cellos spent much of the concert faking it. Ironically, Zoe felt better after this — she figured that things had gone pretty much as wrong as possible and she had survived the experience.

Afterward there was an absolute mob scene in the courtyard outside the auditorium. Girls were literally squealing and jumping up and down as the musicians emerged. Playing concerts back in Durham is going to be a real drag after getting accustomed to this treatment.

This is supposedly the largest building in the world, as seen from our bus window.

Today it was time to get down to business. We would be spending the whole day at Chengdu University and the orchestra would do its first two performances. Unsurprisingly, it is not that easy to get sixty-something kids packed up with instruments, music, stands, lighting, clothing, and other miscellaneous gear. It is a constant logistical battle getting the band and all its accoutrements from place to place and making sure that everything is where it needs to be.

Tom and Al, during happier times

There are also multiple suitcases full of percussion equipment that the chaperones are responsible for. Poor Tom has been lugging around a large bag with some kind of drum in it (and no rollers) for the entire trip. We have nicknamed it “Al” for “albatross”. Al needs to be brought to every performance in case a drum set is not provided — but so far, it always has been provided, so Al just gets set aside and then has to be lugged back to the hotel again. I think Tom and Al’s relationship has become somewhat strained. Al shows his resentment by becoming heavier and more unwieldy with each passing day. (As I write this from a train, Al — who did not fit into the luggage rack or the overhead shelf — is crouched malevolently between me and the seat in front of me, slowly cutting off the circulation to my legs.)

The first performance — outside in front of the large student cafeteria — was slated for noon to maximize the crowd. So for the morning, our hosts had some other fun activities planned.

We first went to a classroom where we learned a little Chinese, practiced moving Skittles with chopsticks, and learned about Chinese opera (which involves the “face changing” series of masks like the show we saw the other day) and the symbolism of each color. We then had a chance to paint our own masks as a souvenir (though lord knows how we will get them home). Next we were given a tour of several of the buildings, including the music and art library and the art museum.
Then it was showtime. The concert program has two parts and the outdoor concerts feature only the latter — American and Chinese pop songs. Several of the singers in the band have performed the impressive feat of learning to sing (and in one case, rap) songs in Chinese, despite no knowledge of the language. In between songs, the Chinese language students (who came on the trip in addition to the orchestra) speak to the crowd to try to recruit them for the evening’s performance. Once the band started playing, they quickly attracted a substantial audience.

This picture of UNH was on the wall of the cafeteria.

There were audible gasps and then cheers when the students began to speak and then sing in Chinese. The kids did an excellent job and it was so gratifying to see the crowd’s appreciation for this effort.

After each performance, Mr. Ervin reserves time for the kids to mingle with the crowd. So many people in the audience want to connect and take selfies with the band members, as well as becoming friends on “WeChat” (a sort of Chinese version of facebook). Everyone has to be dragged away when the allotted time has passed.The evening’s program, in addition to the rock set, also features an original silent movie. The afternoon was largely taken up with rehearsal time, to get the lighting and sound right as well as all the intricate timing required to pull something like this off. Zoe and the other cello player were supposed to be loaned cellos to use here, since bringing them on the plane was not workable. They hadn’t yet appeared, so Zoe was playing the electric cello that she uses for the rock set. Her fellow cello, Jorgen, eventually got his cello at the rehearsal — and found that the university had gone out and purchased one brand new. (Later, after the first night’s concert was over, someone would discover that a cello had been purchased for Zoe as well.)

Standing room only

Excitement and nervousness were high when showtime approached. After everyone had gotten into concert dress, had dinner, and arrived at the concert hall, it was already half full — 45 minutes before the show was even slated to start. By the time 7pm arrived, the seats were all filled and an overflow crowd was lining the aisles and the back. As the kids came in to fill the stage, the auditorium erupted with claps and cheers. It was so funny watching the various shell-shocked expressions as they filed into the room.

This would be the first time (apart from pieces at the rehearsal) that the parents had seen this performance as well. It is an original movie called “Under One Sky”, composed of nature scenes from the US and China, choreographed to an original score that Mr. Ervin wrote based on American and Chinese classical music. There are a lot of intricate musical transitions that have to be precisely synchronized with the film, groups singing parts in Chinese, and speaking parts for the Chinese language students. It was a huge undertaking, and the result was phenomenal. Everything went off flawlessly. The pop song set was an even bigger success, and the energy and enthusiasm really made it feel like we were at a rock concert. With the royal treatment these kids are getting, soon they’ll be demanding Evian water and bowls of only blue M&Ms.