I was caught in the ache of late fall. Shortening days, the bite of the wind, crimson memories colliding, the haunting of pumpkin ghosts, but mostly I missed the autumn moon. As a city dweller, the moon appears briefly between buildings, washed out by light, a dull, ice popsicle compared to the real thing. There was a full Hunter's moon coming, and I was going to escape the city and the skyscrapers and the artificially-lit skyline, to soak in it, to moon-bathe in it, to cleanse the soul and ease the ache, out in the Martian desert terrain around Zhangye. So, after a lovely hi-speed train ride described in Part 1, I was there in the center of the city gathered around the Drum Tower. After a deliberate slog through the list of possible hotels, I found a room without the requisite Chinese hard mattress (that feel as if you are sleeping on a box spring) and bowed to the innkeeper who looked confused as if he should have bowed first. Then I walked in a grid pattern out and away from the Drum Tower and figured out the most interesting parts were west of it. Taking the first right through an ornate gate, will lead you into a kind of tourist zone centered around Marco Polo square, boasting Venetian-faux eddifices, coated with grime. The statue is unexpected, though erected no doubt due to the fact that Polo lived in this area for two years and wrote about it in his epic, The Travels of Marco Polo. As I wandered this night before the full moon, I turned a corner and BAM--there was the moon, rising over the tenements, in all its lemon-ice, low to the horizon luster, the opposite of a Black Hole yet still sucking everything into it, the night, me, poetic joy, heartache, lover's sighs, pedestrian footsteps tapping like jazz notes, back alley hungers, triumphs, promises, teardrops, heart songs from the gutter, flowing like geysers upward, stifled yearnings for freedom, released, vortexes of human emotion siphoned up in the city night and delivered skyward to float above like stars. The moon's craters visible and opened up like surprises. Surprises granted to wished-upon possibilities. Surprises. Granted. I found a shadowed sliver of quiet ground in a park and sat down and absorbed the sight. I shadowboxed with moon shadows, back against a tree trunk, a full moon zombie, moonstruck and tethered to it until the dogs of four in the morning pulled me out of it, but I was reinvigorated and reborn, moon-ice melting into little rivulets of being. As I made my way to my hotel, something cried out at being left behind, then faded, faded . . . faded. Outside of Zhangye are the most curious spectacles called the Danxia landforms. You can take a taxi there, and pay for it to wait for you, then take you back, but it seemed so isolating to me. I found my way to the West Bus Station and discovered a bus would take me there for less than 3 dollars, but was cautioned that the last bus to return was somewhere between 5 or 6 o'clock. No problem, that would give me all day to check out the landforms. The bus rattled across the flat desert and I remembered that Zhangye was a Silk Road garrison fortress, though regrettably not much remains, but the location was chosen because it was the narrowest point on the Hexi Corridor, and now on the bus I could see it and imagine it. Eventually, I was let off at the entrance to the Zhangye Danxia Landform Geological Park, and followed the crowd toward the gate, but before I got there I spied a row of ramshackle outdoor restaurants offering deep bowls of spicy mutton noodles. It was so delightful I thought about ordering seconds, but impatient, I instead bought some fruit and water and made my way forward. The ticket price allowed you entrance as well as taking advantage of the shuttle buses which arrived and departed at various points of interest in the park about every fifteen minutes or so. It was all very organized and arranged, with walkways and stairways leading you hither and fro, but nothing took away from the power of the landforms. It was like Arizona on peyote. Formed over 24 million years as part of the plate tectonics that gave rise to the Himalayas, and carved by wind, erosion and time, the folded layers of oceanic crust rose into stratified red sandstone dinosaur peaks, colored with limestone and mineral deposits, creating vertical and horizontal striped rainbow hills, with deep ravines of varying colors. The sun reflecting off these magical sandstone creations is truly one kind of peace. The descriptions of the landforms on the public signposts were amazing:.Such as, Monkeys Rush into the Sea of Fire. Monks Worship Buddha. Rainbow Hills I happily wandered most of the day, lost on Mars. I wanted to be sure I got back to the highway in time for the last bus, but overestimated the time it would take me, and ended up too early, and stood by the road assaulted by the passing of huge dump trucks, each sounding the horn to mark their passage. It was tedious and noisy so when a bus approached, I eagerly flagged it down. The driver conveyed this was the wrong bus and the bus I wanted would arrive at six o-clock. He waved and smiled and took off in a cloud of dust. It was a quarter after five so I decided I would try to get some photos of a shepherd and his flock of sheep in magic hour light about a half a kilometer back down the road and still be back in plenty of time to catch the bus. I was almost there, framing in my head how I would compose the shots, when I heard a loud horn blasting. I turned, and it was the bus, half an hour early. I started running, waving my arms , please wait for me. The driver encouraged me with a blast of the horn. I ran flat out, not wanting to be stranded there, but expecting the bus to actually leave before I reached the road. I hadn't run this hard in years, and as I got closer, I could see the passengers actually waving me on. This is a good example of the difference in culture. In the United States, the bus would never have waited for me, and if it did, the passengers would be annoyed that I held them up. But in China, patience is not a virtue, but a necessity, and as I ran-ran-ran, everybody was laughing and cheering me on, no doubt enjoying the sight of a foreigner running for the bus as they so often did. When I finally got there, I was all out of wind and gasping. Smiling, the driver took my money, and as I lurched down the aisle toward an empty seat, the passengers were laughing and helpfully pushing me along toward the back of the bus. It was amazing how I felt so welcomed and part of the crowd. Further along, my seatmate got off and I was able to sprawl out, but at the next stop, the bus filled back up and I sat up to allow someone to take a seat. A very pretty girl sat down and I noticed the brothers sitting across the aisle, staring. It was obvious they were brothers and obvious they were not that worldly. Then, the pretty girl asked in clear English, "What is your name?" Along with the brothers, I was stunned. She was a high school teacher and we began a spirited conversation. She was easy to talk to and had a lively sense of humor. Every time I made her laugh, the brothers looked at each other in wonder. I believe they were amazed at how easily we conversed and how easily we found things we had in common. I am sure they thought it was some kind of laowei (foreigner) voodoo. When we came to her stop, we exchanged gifts; I gave her an apple and she gave me some candy. Then we shook hands. At the skin contact, the brothers went wild, jabbering and gesticulating excitedly to themselves. To me it was nothing more than a pleasant interaction with a lovely stranger. To the brothers--and I'm guessing now, it was more like, how in the future do we do what the laowei just did? When it came to my stop, the older brother tried to say something to me, but I didn't understand. Then he laughed, and the people around him laughed, and said Bi-Bi, in the Chinese way, and I stood on the curb and waved as the bus moved on, wondering, as I am sure most conscious travelers do, was my interplay a positive thing, or a negative thing, or just one of those things people shake their heads at as they wind their way through everyday life. Part 3 will follow
2 Comments
Mary
3/7/2016 02:43:47 pm
What incredible footage. Hard to believe those landforms are natural. Great photography. Always feel like I am on the journey with you as your descriptions give true sense of the topic. Interesting story about the nice girl. Did you exchange info for future meetings??? Looking forward to part 3
Reply
Judith E Lyon
12/23/2017 07:16:36 pm
Love this transition from place to place, country to country, world in world. You're a beautiful artist, writer and photographer.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
|