Not For the Faint of Heart

*Before you read: I am so grateful to be learning so much about the Chinese people, language, and culture. This was a difficult post to write and may be a difficult one for some of you animal lovers to read. Please don't judge my new friends without having ever walked in their shoes. I beg you to read this post with an open mind, an understanding heart..... and an empty stomach.

The past two days have been full of surprises. On Friday we left Guangzhou area for good and made our way towards Qingyuan, the next city to the north. We had a long road ahead of us and we had people expecting us in the city on Saturday night.

On Friday morning I woke up at Home. The Home Hotel, that is. This was the first time we’d found a  

reasonably priced hotel exactly at the time we were ready to stop walking. We left the chilly hotel room in search of food. Twenty minutes later we found ourselves at a little breakfast noodle shop. It became obvious to me that we were the morning entertainment in this tiny corner of the world as everyone stopped what they were doing to watch us pass. Ann ordered us two bowls of noodles. When our meals came I thought they’d made a mistake, as there were pinkish-grey cuts of meat resting on my noodles. In fact, Ann had forgotten that I don’t eat meat…she claims. I have a theory that she was just VERY hungry that day and didn’t want to look like a pig, so she ‘accidentally’ ‘forgot’ that I don’t eat meat. Either way, I soon had a meatless bowl of noodles in front of me along with fresh-made, steaming soymilk. I was a happy camper, as this was the most beautiful and delicious breakfast we’d had so far. The vegetables were fresh, the ginger had just been cut, and the noodles were delicious! With day 6 off to a great start, I had a surge of energy. I walked behind Ann and literally danced my way through Huadu. I had my headphones on, Macklemore’s ‘Can’t Hold Us’ traveling through the wires and into my soul. I bobbed my head, threw my arms into the air, and stepped to the rhythm that only existed in my head as people on passing busses craned their necks, double-taking at the dancing, pack-bearing foreigner. I didn’t care. I wasn’t ashamed. I was just dancing.

We stopped for a bathroom break at a beautiful park. There, we met a girl named Yuki and attracted attention from many park-goers. Yuki is a Chinese girl who speaks English. She went on an exchange program to New Hampshire last year, and she is planning to travel as a translator to Sri Lanka this year. She was a very pleasant girl to have a conversation with (This was the first time I’ve spoken English to anyone except Ann on our trip). The afternoon was long because I knew that Ann was having a hard time. She had been ill-advised to throw away a foot bandage that she was using to wrap and support her ankle (my bad). It was getting late in the afternoon and it was time to stop. We had seen a McDonald’s on the map and made it our goal to get there. It seemed to take forever to get to that goddamn Mickey D’s. Finally, we found it. We had our ice cream of the day and found a hotel nearby. The hotel was above a busy marketplace that was filled with vendors selling everything from grilled octopus to knock-off Louie Vuittons. We had a quick dinner and then succumbed to our exhaustion, drifting off to sleep earlier than usual.

The next morning offered another great breakfast. We found a breakfast stand selling labufan. This is my favorite breakfast dish that is made by putting batter made from rice flour and water on a metal sheet

with an egg. It is then inserted into a steamer and scraped onto a plate when it becomes translucent and reaches almost a gelatinous consistency. All you need to know is that it’s delicious. We started walking early and soon came to a market. Ann commented that the markets are bustling more than usual because the big holiday- Chinese New Year- is approaching. We slowly walked through the busy market while taking pictures and videos of the beautiful fruits, vegetables, and furniture. Live ducks and chickens were being sold. You could take them home, or you could have them slaughtered, feathered, and chopped up on the spot. Ann joked with me about getting one for lunch (I’m sure everyone who bought birds wanted to have them as pets…to let them live happy lives and die peacefully of old age) Fish flopped around in shallow tanks and birds wriggled their bound feet and wings in hopes of freedom. It was a vegetarian’s worst nightmare. Then it happened. One of my biggest China fears came true. As I was watching the world through the lens of my digital camera, a peculiar sight came onto my screen. A man was standing behind his booth selling meat. It wasn’t chicken. It wasn’t pork (that was the booth across from him). It wasn’t beef.

It was dog.

Head and all.

Hung on a meat rack.

For sale by the jin.

I took a picture because I knew I’d regret it if I didn’t. And then I had to leave. My heart started to beat fast. Blood started pumping through my veins rapidly and my face became red hot. I took one sickening glimpse of the bloody carcass of what we call ‘man’s best friend’ and I became so filled with rage that I

had to walk away. Fight or flight kicked into my animal brain and I chose to flee before I made a scene. I wanted to scream at the man. I wanted to say, ‘WHAT THE FUCK! WHY? WHY WOULD YOU KILL A DOG? THEY’RE SMART CREATURES! THEY FEEL PAIN AND FEAR! WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU DO THIS??? TELL ME WHY!’

But I didn’t. It was very difficult, but I didn’t scream because I already know why it's done. Culture. For a long time, China was very poor. They were not the ‘we can’t afford Christmas presents this year’ kind of poor. They were the starving and dying kind of poor. As vile as it sounds to an American, Chinese people once had to eat whatever they could get their hands on in order to survive. Dogs were not seen as pets. They were seen as food. Much like the way many Americans see pigs, cows, and lambs (don’t even get me started on that soap box). Seeing dog on the chopping block was startling, unsettling, and inferoriating to me. But to some Chinese people, it is normal. It is a cultural characteristic that was born out of necessity and kept out of habit. This is changing, though. Both foreigners and Chinese people alike have started rallying to educate and convince people not to eat dogs. And just like any big cultural change, it is taking time. In no way to I condone eating dog (or any animal for that matter) AND I am happy that the Chinese survived their starvation period, even though it meant they had to take (what I see as) unfortunate, heartbreaking measures. 

That afternoon the GPS led us through construction. I imagine that this only happened because I’d done laundry the night before and I had damp clothes hanging off my pack. They were just damp enough to turn a dusty sock into a muddy one. Fantastic. At lunchtime we stopped at a shop that was set up in a

garage near the construction site. There were two children watching Spongebob Squarepants on an old box television, and a little girl eying me cautiously from a distance. Ann told the people our story and they graciously invited us to join them for lunch. We all sat at a big round table that they set up in the middle of the shop. We chatted as we ate, but soon were interrupted when Ann seemingly flew out of her seat and out of the shop. She saw a man walking with a large pack. He was obviously on an adventure like us! I followed her out. She called to the man, who came up to the driveway to talk. He was a young Chinese man wearing blue jeans and a cowboy hat. He and Ann talked as I tried to understand, unsuccessfully. I became distracted by the children, who decided the strange foreign girl was more interesting than Spongebob. They crept up behind me and hid when I turned to them. I tried to take pictures as they scattered like cockroaches in the light. Finally, I showed them the pictures of themselves and they laughed and laughed. They hit behind each other as we took selfies, then jumped into the frame in front of each other. They were so funny. And so dang cute. I was called back to the grown-up conversation by Ann.

‘Darrah! This man is walking from Guangdong to Tibet!’

We are not the only crazy ones.

To be continued….