Drake Librarian in China

June 1-2: Des Moines to Chicago to Beijing; Tinkers to Evans to Chance?

To the right is the view from my hotel room, south towards the Beijing Railway Station.

June 3: Beijing; First day at T-square (and yes, it WAS that hazy!)

June 4: Beijing - Chongqing

The "old campus" of Southwest University in Chongqing.

June 5: Day 5: Chongqing

My hosts took me to the rock carvings done by Buddhists near the town of Dazu; they are hundreds of years old, carved into the stone flanking a river.

Ancient town: The gates to the River. Part of my morning activities.

The river may be the Yangzi, or it may be the Jialingjiang River; the city sits at the confluence of these two rivers, and is the takeoff point for the Yangzi. Once the ThreeRivers Gorge Dam is completed, sea-going vessels will be able to sail all the way to Chongqing, some 1000 km (600+ mi.) inland.

My audience for the afternoon presentation on "Building Digital Libraries."

June 7: Day 7: Chongqing

Three Gorges Museum in Chongqing. Amazing place; these are some of the dozens of ethnic minorities who live in China, including Mongolian, Tibetan, and Naxi.

June 8: Chongqing

Mmmm... dinner..

June 9: Chongqing: Near Southwest University; the day's produce arrives!

June 10: Chongqing to Chengdu

Streetlife on a "typical" rainy day in Chongqing.

The view out my hotel window; the Potala looms, the clouds gloom.

June 11 goes here: Chengdu - Lhasa

Me on the roof of the Jokhang, and in front of the main temple, the center of devotion for many Tibetans.

Standing in front of the Summer Palace (Norbulingka) where the Dalai Lama lived in his last 3 years in Tibet, and, sadly, is unlikely to return to again.

Flying west, over the the Western Himalayas. Amazed this pic turned out so well, through the plane window at 35000 ft!

Light snack, pre-flight, with Juliya, Steve Sandie; (Tina took the picture!) (note the proficiency with Chopsticks!)

I'm an uncle again! This is Montana Sue Barrick Gilbert, who was born on Sunday the 9th of July. She is my dad's thirteenth grandchild (13 is not inauspicious in China, by the way!)

["Commenters" are asking for MORE PICTURES, but please keep in mind that, of course, I took many more pictures at the Beginning of the trip than near the End, so, it's only natural that the "End" (which you are reading now!) has fewer pics than the "Beginning" (which is yet to come!) In short, hang in there!]

On your right, the Meridian Gate to the "Forbidden City" (or "Palace Museum" as it's officially deemed these days) in Beijing, my goal for my final full day in China.

The day begins with breakfast-in-hotel, then a visit to the Tourism Office, where I learn what I'd expected.. that it's too late to get a trip to the "Great Wall" today. So, no Great Wall for this traveller, on this trip. Oh, well, it was just Mao who said that "You aren't a man until you've climbed the Great Wall," and it's been a long time (as in, never?) since I worried much about his definitions of humanity.

So, just as on my first day in Beijing, I set off in a westerly direction for Tianmen, and am soon sweating profusely. Now, however, I am much better prepared, in one sense: I am ready with my "Wo bu yao" (pronounced "Woe boo yow," or thereabouts) whenever a street-seller approaches me. Some of the same people, I am convinced, are trying to sell me the same things, but "w.b.y." cuts them off much more efficiently than my first trip, when they would follow me for a block. In fact, a real highlight: the street-seller who is trying to sell me a watch (what? My Timex isn't obvious enough?) and who obviously speaks fairly good English, comes up short after I say it, and says, "Wo bu yao? Wow!" (I'm not making this up!)

Again, once I reach the south side of T. Square, I walk on the east side of it, not on the square, but across the street (which fronts aforementioned shops and TCM facility)



{More to come....}

Last day in Beijing (and China!); I get up early and have breakfast, and take a quick picture of the teeming humanity surrounding the Beijing Railway Station (through my hotel window, which explains the reflections!) directly across from my hotel. (Although this is a Saturday, the busyness and atmosphere is the same as that on most
weekdays).

I finish packing and go down and check out of my room at noon; my flight doesn't leave (supposedly!) until after 4, so I know I'll have some time in the airport, but that's ok.

I go down to street level, and the bellboy helps to call me a cab; he also helps me negotiate my last Chinese "haggling session" with the cabbie, who tells me it'll be 150 kuai, and I say that's too much. We get it down to 120 (probably still too much!) but the cabbie acts disgusted and motions me into the front seat and we're off.

Trip goes smoothly, and I recognize all the familiar signs; not so much traffic, so we negotiate the tollbooth succesfully, except as we do so, the cabbie turns to me and shrugs as he's paying the toll, as if to say, "You see?"

Once dropped off, I grab my trusty airportcart and head, not for customs, but to the Bank of China, to make the last transition between RMB and USD. That goes quite smoothly, except, of course, for the fact that there's "change" left over, and that comes to me in the form of... RMB.
Oh, well, more "giveaways" for when I get home!

Customs and check-in prevent few challenges this time; the obligatory customs form you fill out, that is grabbed by a bored functionary and put in a pile with all the others; then, the long wait for the Boeing 777 begins. I read and wander, as is my wont; until they call for boarding. I'm in one of the last boarding groups; and, unlike the first day, I do not get an upgrade, so I eventually proceed to the back with the rest of the sardines, er, coach class passengers. Thankfully, I have an aisle seat; the two people "interior" to me are a young woman with her toddler son (she a Chinese citizen and he an American, as he was born in the States) who are nice people and good seatmates (he sleeps a great deal of the trip). The same can't be said of the American family that sits in front of me, especially the teen- or twenty-aged son who sits directly in front of me, and, at the first opportunity, reclines his seat back as far as it goes, where it remains the rest of the flight (even when he gets up to walk around).

Anyway, we're all "planed" by now, and then it happens: The captain comes on the intercom to tell us that the "checkluggage wasn't distributed properly, and will all have to be re-distributed? Huh? Although they say "About an hour," it's more like two... before we finally takeoff.

The plane ride home is uneventful but not restful; I don't sleep well on planes, and even though I do fall asleep, I awake 30 min. later to awake to the sound of playing cards being incessantly ruffled. Huh? I won't go into that...

So, 13 hrs. later, when we land at O'Hare (4:40 in the afternoon; basically, the "same time" as when we had left Beijing! My body is not thinking no time has passed, however.) and work our way through customs, I discover that the bags checked in Beijing have to be grabbed ("claimed") and then walked through customs! Great! I pile 'em up with the thousands of others that are coming through at the same time, and head on.

O'Hare is O'Hare; I get on the shuttle-train ("international" and "domestic" flights being a long way apart!) and just happen to luck into getting off near the correct gate. Our "gate" is little more than a cubbyhole; maybe 30 seats, so no JumboJets need apply! I wander around and get a WhiteChocolateMochaGrande at *$'s; first coffee in a long time! And a last splurge before going back to "everyday food" and diet...

We have to get out on the tarmac to walk to our puddlejumper for the flight to DesMoines, and of course it's 90 degrees plus (33 C?) I have a window seat, and we begin to get underway when the captain comes on to say that we're something like 19th in line for takeoff. Ok fine... and the
next thing I know, I'm waking up, (head against the wall of the aircraft) and we're fifth in line! One of the nicest 30 min. naps I've ever had.

Plane ride to DM is good, except we're late; when we get in, I'm met by not only Joyce, but my son Bradley and his friend Rebecca Gehm. We collect luggage and head out, getting to Ames around 10. I distribute the stuff I'd brought for all concerned, to universal acclaim; my limited shopping skills seemed to have been sufficient! I bore (or regale?) with tales of adventure for a little while; until all are too tired, and even I pass out at 1 a.m.

Next day is Father's Day; and I call mine, and tell him I'm back in one piece. Then I lay catatonic on the couch for most of the day, watching Phil Mickelson implode; still too tired to marvel at the places I'd been, and the changes I'd seen.