Two Records of a Floating Life: 2013

A winter trip to Jingyuetan, or, chickadees speak the same language in China

(I did hear and then see a chickadee. He might have been a bit bigger than the friendly little birds on the Jack Pine Trail in Ottawa, and he might have been more of a baritone than a tenor. But, that little bird was definitely a chickadee. No photo.)

The Vasaloppet is just over a month away. Time to check out the ski field and facilities in the Jingyuetan National Forest Park.

Here are some photos, out of order . The story follows. I'll try to match them up later this week.

There was another small earthquake yesterday, November 23, the third since we have been here. I was asleep. There was another one about three weeks ago. One of the young teachers from California rushed into my classroom and asked if we had felt it. I hadn't, and the students would not interrupt the lesson. However, one student wrote this sentence on his next spelling test, "There was an earthquake, but the teacher made us keep working!"

I finally made a trip out to the ski centre at Jingyuetan National Forest Park today: 45 minutes on the light rail, much of it standing in sardine-like conditions, then a 10 km walk around the semi-frozen lake. The downhill area is very tame. People get their rental skis on (and those I saw were all novices) then are pushed/pulled by volunteers to the base of the lift. That is a moving sidewalk like you find in an airport. There was so much fog/smog this morning that it disappeared into the clouds, but at some point the sidewalk ends and people go down on a wide and barely perceptible slope, to be caught by yet more volunteers clad in bright green bibs. There is a chair lift for another part of the hill.

The cross country ski centre is another 500 metres down the road. The building was closed (as was the restaurant advertising German coffee and cakes, which sounded appealing after a 10 km hike.) A German man and little daughter were getting into their car after some serious cross country skiing. He directed me to the ski rental hut, about 500 metres across the field.

Many of you have been in places where you did not speak the language so you will understand. I passed a group of workers scraping away at the snow. They looked at me with looks that are in no way unfriendly, clearly thinking, "What is this old foreign woman doing here?"

I went into the building. Typical ski rental place: skis on one side, boots on the other, toilet (very welcome at that time,) and snack bar (milk teas and noodle cartons.) There were a lot of young people there (college age.) After a bit one young woman asked in brave English if she could help me.

After considerable sign language, discussion, and input from 15 young people, several supervisors and the snow clearers, it emerged that I had come the back way, (snuck in, as it were) and had to go back and get by ticket at the front about one km back the way I had come. I tried to find out how they got in, and therefore avoid the longer walk, but that was impossible to communicate or do. So after many apologies on their part, they sent the old foreign woman back across the snow, with "bye-bye's" and waves.

The kids were in training to be volunteers at the big race that takes place here on January 1, the "VasaLoppet.") It is estimated that there will be 10 000 competitors from around the world. I had hoped to do the 17.5 km race, but that is now 20 km, which may be a little long. Perhaps I can get out there again some afternoon this week and actually get on the snow. The alternative is the 2.5 km fun ski, which will be crazy, and definitely fun.

A week from Friday we are expected to provide some sort of "English Enrichment " for the students. I proposed that several of us take them on the light rail for a morning on cross country skiis. Hope that idea is approved.

There IS a shuttle bus from the main entrance gate to the ski hill, so I was able to get back in 15 minutes instead of nearly two hours. (Hallelujah!) The road is narrow; imagine the road beside Meech Lake. The only other people riding the bus were a pair of students who asked if we could talk in English. That happens here all the time. They were gracious and sweet and thrilled to have their photo taken.

The train ride home was half an hour and I sat the whole way. It is about 300 metres from the train station to the North gate of our college, and from there about 600 metres to the residence. In between is the dining hall where I stopped for a cup of milky coffee and one of the yummy breakfast pancakes with meat filling to take back to the apartment. ($1.40)

We dined on the pancake, home made salsa (David's creation) and some of the corn chips and bagels I bought at the international food store downtown on Friday afternoon. Now marking. Yesterday I cleaned. Today which I was out, David tidied and sorted and we have NO MORE EXCUSES not to finish our home work.

Liz

(We are behind in the labelling ... photos for now XO)

Sunday November 17

Most of the apartment buildings are in complexes, with gates, guards, parks, stores, schools, restaurants and lots of public art. The art is sometimes a bit neglected but never vandalized. We have posted several pictures of the huge "Sunny City" complex right beside our college. This one is located across the light rail tracks outside the north gate.

Cranes and construction everywhere. This building was stripped to the bricks and is being rebuilt. The sky really was that colour.

This is a rare sight in Changchun. The city used to be full of low brick buildings like these that were torn down to make way for the apartments. Most of the building sites, or abandoned homes are hidden by huge hoardings decorated with advertisements for the luxurious structures to come. We will photograph and post some of those signs. This little house was intriguing.

As was this little stream and bridge. It reminds me of the Sawmill Creek in Ottawa.

One advantage of snow is that you can see where people have been, so I followed footsteps past an apartment building and down into the mixture of abandoned homes and allotment gardens, now asleep.

And across this little bridge. About 20 metres further a man was shovelling snow. I felt a bit shy and retreated. That was silly - there is little sense of private property here. People walk everywhere, and nobody seems concerned.