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Contents:

Pg 1.!Editors Note.

Pg 2.!Editors Note. Helpful Chinese Phrases

Pg 4.!Staying Connected. Into the Open Green!

Pg 8.!Sour and Sweet.

Pg 11. Beneath the Sand.

Pg 14. Deep into the Crystal Water.

Pg 17. Our Travels.

Pg 19. Useful Numbers.

Pg 20. More Citations

Editor’s Note

This has been my favorite edition that I have worked on. Well, to be precise, it is the only edition that I have worked on. For my first job as editor, this could not have been a more wonderful process. We spent this issue of Traveler’s Portal focusing China and specifically Chinese minorities scattered throughout the vast country.

We covered the Dai, Mongol, Korean, and Uygur minorities to get a snapshot of several different cultures outside of the main cities of China.

All of our contributors were sent through Beijing to get a glimpse of modern China before stepping back into an entirely different way of life. I hope that you enjoy this issue of Traveler’s Portal, and I hope to be seeing you again in the next few issues!

-Alex Lee, editor

Traveler’s Portal

“See the world. It’s more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories.”-Ray Bradbury

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Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Into the Open Green

Famous writer Alex Lee, details his experiences in Inner Mongolia. ! ! ! ! Pg. 5

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Helpful Chinese Phrases 中文You: 你 ni Hello: 你好 ni hao May I please ask: 请 问 qing wen

Name: 名 字 ming zi I, me: 我 wo Good-bye: 再 ⻅见 zai jian

What is your name?: 你 叫 什么 名 字 ni jiao shen me ming zi?

I want to eat: 我 要吃 饭wo yao chi fan

I don’t understand: 我 不 明 白 wo bu ming bai

I don’t speak Chinese: 我 不 说 中 问wo bu shuo zhong wen

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Contributors

Sarah BeareBorn in Seattle, Washington, Sarah Beare has been traveling since birth. She is currently a freelance travel writer working out of Montego Bay, Jamaica. She attended Manhattan College, graduating with a bachelor’s degree in English. She was thrilled to have the opportunity to work with Traveller’s Portal. In the future, she hopes to continue to travel and see more of the world.

Alex LeeAlex is a famous 30-year-old journalist that travels all around the world. When he was 26, he began working for Traveller’s Portal. He was born in London, England on March 16,1983. He graduated from Harvard at age 21 and has been working as a journalist ever since. Alex currently lives in London.

Kenji LeeBorn in Chicago, Illinois, Fad is 22 years old and has travelled around the world his whole life. He has graduated New York University very recently. Kenji currently works for Traveller’s Portal magazine company. Working for Traveller’s Portal was a great opportunity for Kenji to write and a reason to travel the world.

Terry ZhaoTerry is a 23-year-old journalist and travel writer currently working for Traveller’s Portal. Born in Paris, France, Terry attended and graduated Stanford University and has been travelling around the globe ever since. Terry really enjoys his job at Traveller’s Portal and is thrilled by the opportunity to see the world. Terry currently lives in Los Angeles.

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Staying Connected

When moving to or traveling in a new country, it can be difficult to stay connected to your friends and loved ones, especially in China. Here are a few of our best tips and tricks for staying connected when traveling in China.

-Your phone will not work without a Chinese SIM card. You will need to go to an electronics store to reactivate your phone and buy a new card. Many people find it easier to just have a basic Chinese cell phone if you are staying for any long length of time.

-Many restaurants and hotels have WiFi, but it is not always free. There will generally be a sign up when there is free WiFi with the name and password. At some hotels, you may have to go to the front desk to set up the Internet in your room and pay for it.

-Many email platforms have been blocked from the public eye. If this is the case, you will be unable to access it without using VPN, or Virtual Private Network, to be able to see and use all websites.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Into the Open Green- Alex LeeThere was green luscious grass in every direction, going on and on as far as the eye could see. There were isolated white yurts that stood strong above the ground like mushrooms. There were herds of cattle grazing the on-going fields, adding color to the green emerald background. Welcome to the magnificent province of Inner Mongolia. Inner Mongolia has much contrast to my birthplace, London, England. Inner Mongolia has a very tranquil sense to it, with peaceful grass fields and clear blue skies. On the other hand, London is a very energetic city with many people wondering the streets, cars creating traffic jams and dark gray polluted skies that color what is above your head. When I was very little, I have heard stories about how fascinating Inner Mongolia was. I have heard how many people in the Mongol ethnic minority were all extremely skilled horseman, and how they could shoot arrows on horses with such precision that they rarely missed. But people have began to tell me that these ethnic minorities are fading away do to the modernization of society. My journalism career has finally given me a chance to see this wondrous place and the evidence of the fading culture.

It is now my time to go and see this place for myself. It is my time to go experience these many stories.

“Thump!” I flop out of the car and onto the silky green grass. The smell of car exhaust and tobacco caused me to be light headed. I have just survived a nauseating and bumpy car ride. Before that, I had to go through a gruesome flight from Beijing to Haila’er. Even though I loved traveling I still thought that getting here was a bit irritating. But now, I am finally in the beautiful Hulunbuir Grasslands, I couldn't wait to visit my hosts.

All of a sudden a young muscular man walked toward me. He helped me pull myself up and brought me toward 2 brown horses. “Yay! More traveling”, I thought to myself. As he aided me onto my horse, I thanked the driver and he left, leaving us behind. The young told me he was going to be my guide for my entire trip. He spoke English with a very strong Chinese accent, but I still could more or less understand him. When I finally got on to my horse he tied the rope of my horse to his and got on his own horse with ease.

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As the horses started trotting off in a steady pace, I thought to myself, “This is actually pretty fun”. All of a sudden the horses began galloping, my heart began to pound, beads of sweat came down from my face and my body began to shiver. I held on as tight as I possibly could, but all I could do was look at decorated night sky with bright stars zoom past my eyes and the blades of grass blur. The sound of hooves became faster and the scent of fresh grass became stronger. After a few terrifying minutes, the horses began to slow down and then stop. My tense muscles began to slowly relax. I began to see white circular tents. As my guide helped me off my horse, he educated me about these tents. He said that these were called yurts.

Suddenly, groups of people began coming out of these yurts and greeted me. One of them gave me a long white silk cloth and slightly bowed. I didn't understand what to do so I mimicked him and bowed as well. They then lead me into my own designated yurt. It was 5 in the morning, and I began to see a glimpse of the sun coming out from the horizon. I have just been through an exhausting journey and I had to sleep. I crumbled onto my mattress and everything turned black.

“Moo!” “Mehh!” I woke up to the cries of cows and sheep. As I peaked out of my yurt, I could see men riding horses, tending cattle, practice wrestling and shooting arrows. The women were looking after children and some were dancing under the sunlight. A crystal clear river weaved through the grassy jaded-green hills. I looked up at the blue sky and the golden sun was high above my head, smiling at me, giving warmth to my entire body. I looked down at my watch and my eyes widened, it was already 11am, I have already wasted half of my day. It was too early to eat lunch, so I had some time to spare. It was time for some observing.

I sat down on the smooth silky grass and laid back. “Ahh” I wished I could live here forever. As I opened my small notebook that I brought with me on every adventure, my guide began walking my way. He sat down right next to me and introduced himself. He said that his name was Jack and he was apologized that he forgot to introduce himself to me before.

He also told me that he learned English from the many western people that had passed by. I told him that I was a journalist and that my job was to write a travel article about the fascinating Mongols. He sat down next to me and started to tell me all about them.

On my notebook I began to sketch and take note about the type of clothing and the appearance of the Mongols. I noticed that their skin had a darkish color and they were weather beaten by the sun and strong winds. The men were very strong and muscular, while the women were fairly skinny and elegant. They wore caftans, hats and boots. The caftans were made of materials that range from leather to drapery.The caftans had long wide sleeves that could be rolled up and down to protect themselves from the wind and sun. The women’s sashes were narrow and shorter than men’s. While the men’s sashes were longer and were folded into a broad band that was tightly tied around their waist for a place to put their knife. This knife was usually used to cut meat.

I asked my guide how the Mongols usually acted. He told me that they were extremely respectful. He also said that when someone unfamiliar enters his or her home, they will give them something a long white piece of silk or cotton known as Hada. The exact same thing they gave me when they greeted me. He then said it was respectful to receive the

Hada with both hands and bow a little. The bowing was a sign of respect. After he educated me about the Mongols, it was time to eat. As we began to walk towards the group of yurts, I could already smell the aroma of meat and my stomach began to rumble. I couldn’t wait!

When I entered a large yurt, the smell of food filled up my nostrils and my mouth began to water. The hosts cheerfully invited us in and they led us to our seats. The oldest man in the family began to make a toast. After the toast, we then began to dig in.The taste of lamb was so overwhelming; it was so fresh and scrumptious.

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Issue 1. December 2013Traveler’s Portal

White Mongol yurt in the grass plains

This was actually the first time I could finally observe the inside of the yurt. There were wooden bars on the side, for support. Myriad of carpets were spread out on the ground for warmth, and there was a cooking range in the middle for cooking and heating.The carpets were what caught my attention; they were decorated with so many intricate designs. I then learned that the yurts were actually portable houses. Because the Mongols were a nomadic ethnic minority, they needed these portable houses to move around. The reason they were nomadic was because their cattle would finish grazing a piece of land, so they needed to find more grass to graze on. The yurts were also built in a circular shape to prevent the strong winds from the Inner Mongolian grasslands from blowing it over. The circular aerodynamic shape of the yurt will cause the winds to blow to the sides of the yurt.

After our delicious lunch, a young man invited my guide and I to go with him and tend the cattle. We followed him with great excitement. I asked my guide why there were so many sheep. He told me that lamb was their main source of food and sheep are extremely easy to take care of; all they need is grass and a little bit of water. When the cattle finished grazing, we began to then walk down to the group of yurts once again.

As we walked I noticed a beautiful white horse trotting around the grass fields. Its hair was smooth like silk and white as snow. The guide told me that Mongols have been on horseback ever since they were born, and they had a very special connection with them. Horses were also one of the few ways Mongols traveled from place to place. Even though my previous experience of riding a horse wasn't that exciting, I still wanted to try again. This time I was determined to be successful.

The same young man that tended the sheep helped me onto the horse. Anxiety began to creep up on me once more, my heart started to race, and my body shook with fear. He patted me on the back as to relax me.

Then he gently hit the behind of the horse and it started trotting away. But even this was too much for me; I began to feel unstable and lost my balance. I came crashing down onto the hard ground. Even though my body was aching, I still was determined to try again. But once again, I came crashing down. I have almost lost hope, but not quite. “One more try” I said to myself, “just one more”. I hit my legs on the horse’s sides and it began to gallop, this time I held on as tight as possible, so I wouldn't fall again. I pulled the horses rope to the right, and the horse did as I told. I pulled the rope back, and the horse stop. Glee coursed throughout my body, I have fulfilled my goal, and I have finally learned how to ride a horse. I looked back and I saw not only the young man and the guide, but also other people crowding around. They started cheering me on and a giant smile molded onto my face.

As time zoomed past, it was time to depart. Perhaps time does fly when you are having fun. We began to exchange hugs and kisses and they helped me pack all my belongings. As I got on the horse once more, I wasn't afraid of the horse, what I was afraid of leaving them behind. I wanted to spend more time with them. They were somewhat a family to me. As my guide and I headed of into the spectacular sunset, a tear slowly rolled down my face and onto the grass. A part of me will always be with them.

Mongols are a very unique ethnic minority as they are one of the only nomadic cultures that still exist in the known world. They have such an interesting life style such as horse riding, wrestling, archery, dancing, etc. But even though this is the case, many Mongols want to leave their roots behind and live a more modern life, a life with more fortune. But greed always comes with a price. If all of them abandon the Mongol ethnic minority, then there will be no more. No more cultures, no more cultural diversity, everything will be the same. We should celebrate the fact that there are still different cultures in our society. We should try our best to experience their lifestyle, festivals and foods. Cultures should be preserved as they are unique and unlike anything else. I hope that if I come back, all the wondrous landscapes, mouthwatering foods, kind-hearted people and most of all, the Mongol ethnic minority will still exist.

Traveler’s Portal

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Issue 1. December 2013

Mongol white goat

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Sour and Sweet- Kenji LeeI was sitting in the airport. Waiting for my plane departure and ready to start my journey. My name is Kenji Lee from Traveler’s Portal. I live in Chicago and work as a travel article writer. My goal is to explore new places of exploration that I have never been to or seen before. Today I was going to visit the Korean minority located in China and experience 24 hours with them. My journey was about to begin.

After traveling countless of hours, I had finally arrived in Beijing. All I could think of now is sleep, but I had to carry on and make it to the bus stop on time. I was taking a bus to Jilin, where the Korean minority group lives. I was much ahead of time so I thought I could get a little more prepared. I made sure to change my watches time to the correct time period. I had gone to exchange my American dollars to Chinese Yuan. I was waiting for the bus a little early but better safe than sorry! As the bus headed towards our direction, I let out a sigh of relief, knowing that I did not miss the bus. I sat on the third row and fastened my seatbelt with excitement. The plane was much more enjoyable and relaxing, as the bus felt like I was going up and down like a rollercoaster because of the rocky and unstable road to Jilin. I knew this would all pay off at the end.

Finally, the bus had made its way to Jilin. The bus arrived at a bus stop in the middle of a crowded town, which had to be Jilin. There were many small stalls with a variety of things on sale. I had departed my bus and got all my belongings. It was 7am according to my watch. I was on time and now I had to find the family who were opening their house to me! I hadn’t noticed any differences at first, but this was when my jetlag had kicked in. I was tired and I wanted to sit down and grab something to eat. I had walked around the small parade seeking for something to eat. I had come across many small stores and I had decided to buy some food. I had noticed some food that most of the stores had. There were some small sticky rice balls that the store manager had recommended. The delicious taste kept my mouth watering but I knew I had to find where I was home staying. I had tried to get a taxi after countless of tries; I finally had gotten a taxi. I had pulled out a small piece of paper that had the address of the house I was staying at.

The taxi had finally arrived at the house where I was staying at, all of a sudden I felt very nervous.

I had gotten my bags out and walked to the front porch. The family had greeted me by bowing. This was unusual so I just bowed back afraid if I didn't, it would be rude. They had handed me a piece of barbecued chicken. I didn't want to be rude so I had accepted their offer. I had no idea how to communicate with them; they spoke a language I think which was Korean. Luckily they had a guide there who spoke fluent English and fluent Korean. The guide’s name was Han, a local farmer who had learnt English in his school and now is a part time translator guide. Han brought me up to the room I was going to sleep at. I was ready to just jump into the bed and put the covers over me and just fall asleep. But it was only 9 am. There was so much ahead of the day, and the best way to keep Jetlag away was to go with the time.

I had gone outside and I noticed that there was a farm behind the house. There were lots of crops and beautiful mountains surrounding Jilin. I hadn’t paid close attention to the houses. It had a wooden rooftop, and the walls were made of clay. This was a traditional way a typical Korean style house is built. One thing I noticed was that the houses were all so compact and it felt like such a tight community. The people there were all very welcoming.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

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Korean crops growing in water

I had noticed their colorful clothes that had patterns that were carefully made. They had asked me to join in and celebrate the arrival of myself. At this point I felt famous, everyone was asking me questions and engaging in a conversation. Luckily Han was there to translate, I would felt like a caged animal if not for him. I had joined them along in their celebration. There was a lot of dancing and singing. At first I had just watched them, but they had brought me into the group and they showed me some of their dances. Everyone was enjoying themselves. There was food on tables and nice decorations and a lot of the neighbors had come over to celebrate. One of the nice people had showed me some of their traditional food. Spread across a small table was bowls of Cold noodles, Kimchi, sticky rice cake, and barbecued chicken. The most traditional and well-known food there was their unique Kimchi. The Kimchi is well known vegetable that the Koreans ad made way back before the 18th century. Its spicy taste along side with its sour and sweet feeling in your mouth makes you hungry for more. All of these tastes put into one dish, no wonder it is so well known.

After a few hours, the food was packed up and the singing and dancing had stopped. The men had gone to their farm and the women had stayed home to keep the house clean and organized. Han had asked if I wanted to learn how to make Kimchi. This was a perfect opportunity to learn and share the Korean’s unique dish! Han had brought me back into the house into the kitchen. The Kitchen had clay walls. It was much different from my kitchen in Chicago. This kitchen had no fridges, no freezers, no snack bars and no wine coolers. This kitchen was more traditional; it had stoves, pots, sinks and a small tiny fridge. Han had brought out the cabbage to make the Kimchi out of the tiny fridge. The cabbage was supposed to be left out for 12 hours to have the good texture of the cabbage.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Han had prepared before hand and got the materials ready and left it out the night before. After drying out the cabbage, Han had brought out much more ingredients. Garlic, Korean radish, small slices of scallions, ginger are all ingredients of Kimchi. Han had brought out premade Kimchi from a fridge. Making Kimchi involves months. Having to put the dish in the fridge for a few months until it is ready. I carried the sweet and sour dish to my mouth using my hands. I have never been a fan of spicy food. But Kimchi might just make me.

It was finally night. Without realizing, I had taken an afternoon nap. Han had knocked on the door, “supper is almost ready!” I had unpacked my clothes halfway before I fell asleep. The aroma of the dishes flowing through the small house. I jumped out of the small bed and went downstairs in a fresh pair of clothes.Small bowls of cold noodles with a special sauce that goes along with it were laid on the table. Along with it, there were small plates of Kimchi, and a small bowl of rice cakes with the special Kimchi sauce. Han had introduced me to the dishes and told me about its history. Then Han brought out two pairs of sticks. I remembered their name, chopsticks. Although I have travelled across a lot of Asia, I am still completely clueless when using the chopsticks. These types of challenges would always come up, never the less, I attempted to use them. Han snickered and had to teach me. I had felt so embarrassed but the house owner and Han actually started to laugh. I joined in the laugh because looking at myself trying to use the chopsticks was hilarious! Dinner felt like it was stretching on and on for hours. Maybe because I was struggling to use the chopsticks. We were talking about my experiences around the world and I had asked many questions about their daily life. Soon it was time to go to bed. I had insisted on putting away the dishes, the least I could do to repay for the exquisite dinner they had prepared.

I had crawled under the sheets on the bed. I couldn't sleep because of the afternoon nap. Perks of having jetlag. I had sometime to think about the past events. Comparing farming and making Kimchi to being in Chicago Stadium watching the Chicago Blackhawks hockey team like my everyday life. From the calm sound of the wind blowing to the loud cheers from the stadium. Life has many roads, its our choice which way to go.

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Korean traditional clothing on hanger

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Beneath The Sand- Terry ZhaoI let out a great yawn as the plane screeched to a stop. Beijing International Airport. The air was as foggy as a great blanket that covered me and all that around me. The long journey from Paris has left me tired and jetlagged. Now, all I really wanted is to lie down but I scrambled through the busy Beijing crowd and took another plane to Urumqi. I am a travel writer for Traveler’s Portal. In this trip, I was assigned to explore the Uygur minority, and, unfortunately, it is halfway across China.

I barely had any time to glimpse the full Urumqi when I cut across the streets and got on the train to Kashgar. The scene around us is just amazing as we passed through the beautiful Tianshan Mountains. Huge forest surrounds us, and small lakes lay around the plains. Well, maybe this trip is actually better than I thought. That made me relax and actually looked forward to my journey ahead.

What I didn’t expect was that as soon as we passed through the mountain ranges, the valleys opened up to reveal Kashgar, a city built on sand and surrounded by desert. My guide, Mr. Zhang was waiting near what appear to be a camel! Wait, so I’m supposed to ride this thing ten miles south to where the village is? I walked awkwardly toward him. “Hello, ” His English was so heavily accented I could barely understand him. “Welcome to Xingjiang. I will take you to the village. Your host, Mr. Ma, will be waiting for you there.” I suddenly feel a wave of nausea washing over me as I climbed onto the camel and positioned myself awkwardly between the lumps on it’s back. Mr. Zhang climbed into another camel and led the way. The camelback is less than comfortable and I struggled not to lose balance. The scorching sun splashed its heat waves down on the barren dessert, and I yearned for a nice cup of coffee back at my apartment next to the Saine.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

The air was hot and dry as we strode through parts of the Taklamakan desert and arrived at the Uygur village. A man who must be my host stood in front of the village. He was tall and well built, but what really caught my eye is the weird but colorful clothing he was wearing. He was wearing what must be a gown, a cap on his head, and a long scarf dangled in his waist and danced as the wind passed by. As I slowly dismounted and really glanced at the surroundings, he walked up to me and put his right hand on the middle of his chest. Then, he leaned forward and said something I didn’t understand. His gesture surprised me. “Uh,” I muttered to Mr. Zhang, “What was that?” “He says hello.” He replied, “You should do the same gestures.” I did what he says and Mr. Ma seems to be pleased. He quickly grabbed my bags and led me towards his house. Mr. Zhang caught up with me. “The Uygurs are very friendly towards visitors.”

I noticed quickly that there are clusters of courtyards around the village, and the doors faced various directions except for west. I looked around. Despite the damp, poor working conditions, the villagers are all dedicated and enjoying their work. The sweet scent of pancakes and melon jam quickly entered my nose. My stomach growled. The cheap Chinese plane lunch seems like a century ago. As the villagers began to notice me, they quickly huddled over and started to talk. “Yeah, hi.” I struggled to move through the excited villagers and entered Mr. Ma’s house. His house has relatively poor lighting and I can tell that ventilation was bad, but it made up for it with pictures and well-decorated carving patterns. Mr. Zhang entered behind me. “Your host, Mr. Ma is one of the few men without a wife and able to house you.

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Steps to Uygur traditional tower

You should feel very grateful.” “Yeah. Thanks.” I replied. Mr. Ma returned with a cup of tea and some pancakes, “Nang”, they call it, and offered me some. I looked down. It is very thoroughly baked round bread, and there are patterns that are literally baked into the bread. Although I’d prefer a baguette with some coffee, I realized that Nang with milk tea was just as delicious. “Up here, it is very dry.” Mr. Zhang explained, “They can’t grow rice so they plant lots of wheat instead. The nang bread is made from flour.” “Why do they drink milk tea?” I asked. Mr. Zhang scratched his head. “The milk came from their lambs. This is not a good place for all the animals. Lambs are relatively adaptable to this environment.”

Soon, night covered the village with a soft sheet of darkness, but there is a full moon and stars, which decorated the sky. Mr. Ma invited me along with a few of his friends to dine together. For supper, there are Nang, noodles, beef, melons for dessert, and tea seems to be the only refreshment other than water. Despite the harsh environments, these men looked as happy as one could be. After dinner, I went outside and stared into the vast Xinjiang plains. The air is cool and fresh in both my lungs and in my mind. I soon returned to the house. Since the lights are too dim, I soon drowned into a deep sleep.

The morning began when I was awoken by the sound of villagers rushing around, talking very loudly, and the sound of animals. It seemed that everyone but me woke up early today. I soon met up with Mr. Zhang. “Today is a very special day for them.” He said, “It is the Corban Festival. The tenth day of the second month in the Islamic calendar. Today the men kill sheep, cook meat and make pastries to offer to Allah.” “Oh,” I was surprised, “I didn’t realize that they’re Muslim.” “Yes, they are Muslim.” Mr. Zhang said. “Some Uygur people still believed in Shamanism and Buddhism, but most people are Muslim now.” I opened my laptop. “Oh,” He added, “You should go out. Celebrate.” “Alright.” I closed the laptop and stepped outside. I found Mr. Ma cooking up the sheep meat and making kebabs. He seems to be on top of the world as he danced around with other men and cooked the meat.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

The rest of the morning was a blur. The entire village gathered together as they made sacrifices to Allah and celebrated. I soon blend into the happy villagers. Mr. Ma brought a whole plate of kebab and we enjoyed the plain yet appetizing Uygur food together. We ate and laughed for a good long time.

Still, everything has its end. After a wonderful day, I packed up my things and said good-bye to Mr. Ma. All the villagers came to see me off. As I slowly climbed onto my camel, Mr. Ma stuffed a baked nang into my bag. “Thank you so much.” I told him. Mr. Zhang translated for me and I can tell that Mr. Ma is very happy to host me. “Time to go.” Mr. Zhang told me. As the small Uygur village disappeared behind a whisk of sand, I couldn't help but feel a little depressed that I’m leaving this place. I actually enjoyed their simple yet happy lifestyle. Now, as the bright lights of Beijing emerged beneath the clouds, I realized that less than two days at a small Uygur village has actually changed me. I know that this trip is very tiring, but next time, halfway across China? No problem.

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Patterns on a Uygur structure

Traditional Uygur buildings

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Deep into the Crystal Water- Sarah BeareStepping out of the airport first thing in the morning into a thick haze of Chinese pollution is hardly how you want to arrive in a new country. After struggling through international customs on both ends, I had finally made it from Montego Bay, Jamaica to Beijing, China. I met my translator and traveling companion just outside the airport in Beijing, only to go right back in again for our flight to Xishuangbanna Gasa airport in the Yunnan Province.

I am a freelance travel writer, but being an embassy kid, I have lived out of a suitcase for about as long as I can remember. Airports are a bit like a second home for me, but I had never been to China. The Beijing airport amazed even me with its grandeur and size, so stepping out into the little airstrip that served as Xishuangbanna Gasa was a bit of a shock.

We picked up our bags and headed out of the airport to be met by a small man with yellowing teeth and an ancient car. He was our first sighting of the Dai minority, who we were to be staying with overnight to learn more about their ancient culture, and in particular the water splashing festival. I have long had a fascination for ancient cultures, and in particular how they may have changed over time.

We had a fairly quick, bouncy drive along the Lancang River through rice paddies. There were flags up and just a general air of excitement and celebratory spirit. As we went, he spoke rapidly in the Dai language, which I understand to be a kind of mix between Tibetan and Thai. My poor translator did her best to relay back what was said. “He says that we have come on the best day of the festival, the third and last one. It is nearing midday, so everyone will already be celebrating when you arrive. There is going to be the boat races, the final feast, and the peacock dances today.”

It was the middle of April, and the beginning of the Dai New Year. According to our guide, the festival is about washing away the old year and having good luck and prosperity in the new. We would be splashed with water for good luck, was the fair warning given. Arriving in the village was a sight to see. All of the people were in the river, children playing and splashing about as the boat race began. Young men piled into beautifully painted wooden dragon boats and they were off, cheered on by everyone else there. As I turned around to look for my guide, someone threw a bucket of water into my face, and I realized that I should just go in and participate. Everywhere, people were in traditional dress, with bright colored skirts and beautiful embroidery. Girls were dancing the peacock dance, which comes from Buddhist legend of a peacock caring for the Buddha. They were strutting around like birds, making these beautiful hand movements. One girl began to teach me the dance. I was amazed that they could memorize these. The one thing that I saw that I did not expect or hope to see were tourists; other westerners like me, walking around taking pictures with their cellphone cameras and watching the proceedings in an amused manner. Several foreign kids brought water guns, and got into a massive splash war with the local children. Suffice it to say that the next few hours passed in a blur of color and music and lots of laughter.

Next, at maybe five in the afternoon, we sat down to an amazing banquet dinner. I had no idea what to expect, seeing as my previous experiences of Chinese food had all been the greasy American kind. Of course, the meal began with rice. Then they brought out the meat. Roasted chickens, pigs, and even cows were brought out to the table. Just about everything made me feel like my mouth was on fire, but in the best possible way. I also got a lot of sour flavors through the heat. One of the most unexpected dishes were the bugs. Never before have I seen spiders and worms served for dinner, and I do not really expect to see it again. I decided to stick to some of the tamer dishes, such as pickled bamboo shoots and the amazing roast chicken.

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Traditional Dai umbrellas

Finally, the meal ended with everyone having eaten like there was no tomorrow. I was jetlagged and just completely exhausted by the time that I met my host family. The mother showed me to their house, which was a simple wooden structure built on stilts. It seemed to be that the animals lived underneath, so as to keep them from escaping during the night. We went up the stairs into the basic one-room dwelling separated by a curtain to divide us from the family. We slept on mats on the floor, and I suppose that I just crashed. I woke up quite late the next morning, and quickly realized that it was almost time to go. I dreaded the thought of leaving this sunny, beautiful, cheerful environment to go off on my next trip back to Beijing. The family gave me a simple breakfast of rice, and the lovely gift of a traditional skirt in a bright shade of pink, and then I was on my way. I had to stop on the way out and be amazed at the artistry of the local Buddhist temple. White and round, with spires reaching up to touch the sky, I had never seen anything like it. I wish that I could have seen more, including the inside, which I’m sure, was just as amazing. Another bouncy yet uneventful car ride later, and my time with the Dai came to a close.

I have never, before or since, seen the same kind of closeness as a village that the Dai posses. When they celebrated, the lines between family and friends blurred and they all became as one, bringing in the New Year together. And yet, you could see a bit of how life was changing in the minority. I noticed the tour groups joining in with the festival. I saw the young people in their modern dress leaving a bit of their culture behind. The Dai people are a beautiful and disappearing culture as the younger people leave for bigger cities and better futures. I hope that this amazing culture can be preserved, as it was truly wonderful to visit. I hope that someday I can go back to see the Dai water festival again.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

“The  Dai  people  are  a  beau/ful  and  disappearing  culture  as  the  younger  people  leave  for  bigger  ci/es  and  be9er  futures.”-­‐  Sarah  Beare

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Traditional Dai housing

Dai religious temple

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Our Travels

Dai

Mongol

Xishuangbanna

Inner Mongolia

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Korean

Our Travels (continued)

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Uygur

Jilin

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Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

Useful Numbers

Police Dial: 110

Medical Emergency: 120

Air Ticketing Service: 2581

Taxi Hotline: 68351150

Train Ticket Booking Telephone:

63217188

Beijing Tourist Hotline: 65130828

Tourist Bus Company: 6436452

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"Dai Ethnic Minority." : Its History, Costumes, Diet And Culture. China Travel, 22 Sept. 2013. Web. 02 Dec. 2013. <http://www.chinatravel.com/facts/dai-ethnic-minority.htm>.

"Water Splashing Festival." Water Splashing Festival Guangdong Cina. Shenzen, 2012. Web. 02 Dec. 2013. <http://shenzen.it/Water-Splashing-Festival.html>.

"Ethnic Groups - China.org.cn." Ethnic Groups. China.org.cn, n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013. <http://www.china.org.cn/e-groups/shaoshu/shao-2-dai.htm>."Uygur Minority." ChinaHighlights. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013.

"Chinese Uygur Minority: Beliefs, Economy, Crafts." Chinese Uygur Minority: Beliefs, Economy, Crafts. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013.

"Subscribe to Free Email Newsletter." Uygur. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013.

"Traditions - Ethnic Minority." The Uygur Nationality. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013.

"Ethnic Minorities in China and Their Cultures - Korean Minority (Chaoxian), by China Report.com." Ethnic Minorities in China and Their Cultures - Korean Minority (Chaoxian), by China Report.com. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013.

"Subscribe to Free Email Newsletter." Korean Ethnic Minority. N.p., n.d. Web. 02 Dec. 2013."Wikia." Thor Wiki. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Nov. 2013. <http://thor.wikia.com/wiki/Tom_Hiddleston>.

"The Movable House Yurt of Mongol Ethnic Minority - Yunnan Adventure." The Movable House Yurt of Mongol Ethnic Minority - Yunnan Adventure. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Nov. 2013. <http://www.yunnanadventure.com/article-p3954-the-movable-house-yurt-of-mongol-ethnic-minority>.

"China Mongol Ethnic Minority: Mongolian Food, Language, History." China Mongol Ethnic Minority: Mongolian Food, Language, History. N.p., n.d. Web. 25 Nov. 2013. <http://www.travelchinaguide.com/intro/nationality/mongolian/>.

"Beijing Official Website International." Beijing Official Website International. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Dec. 2013. <http://www.ebeijing.gov.cn/Study_1/ExActivities/Extracurricular_Activities/t911870.htm>.

"Getting around by Taxi in Beijing, China." Getting around by Taxi in Beijing, China. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Dec. 2013. <http://www.thechinaguide.com/beijing_taxis/beijing_taxis.html>.

 "Round Red Cross Symbolclip Art Image." Round Red Cross Symbol Clipart Image. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Dec. 2013. <http://www.ipharmd.net/symbol/medical_cross/red_cross_round_red.html>.

"Air China Resumes Services Between Yiwu and Beijing." China Expat. N.p., n.d. Web. 03 Dec. 2013. <http://www.echinacities.com/news/Air-China-Resumes-Services-Between-Yiwu-and-Beijing>.

Traveler’s Portal Issue 1. December 2013

More Citations

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