The Way of the Tao

We are taking a much needed rest day in Wuyuan. It’s SO BEAUTIFUL

here. This past week we’ve been traveling through mountains filled with fields of Cole flowers. These back mountain roads sometimes create difficulty for Annimal, pulling her trailer; but they also provide some stunning views. It is cleaner here than most other places in China. There are hardly any piles of trash and the air is fabulously clear. The very white clouds and bright blue sky make a crisp backdrop for the luscious green mountains and seas of yellow flowers. It has also been WARM AND SUNNY! FINALLY, we aren’t bundled up, hiding under ponchos and bracing ourselves against the cold wind. We could not ask for better weather. I was born in the New Mexican desert on the first day of summer; perhaps this is why I LOVE the HEAT! I am a child of the sun. Annimal, on the other hand, would rather be back in the arctic weather where you can’t feel your

a kind family in the mountains

hands, but you don’t break a sweat while walking either. I don’t get it.

We are moving steadily toward our goal, currently sitting at 938 kilometers. This coming week we will break 1,000 kilometers, marking the halfway point to our goal of walking at least 2,000 km. Hopefully the next 1,000 will go more smoothly now that we know what we’re doing, and we hopefully won’t have as many troubles as we did in the beginning (walking the wrong way, terrible blisters, freezing weather, etc…). Though, I’m sure we’ll get a whole new set of problems to figure out. Bring it.

Yesterday was holy. We didn’t really plan to walk at all. Annimal and I were both exhausted, depleted, and feeling altogether miserable. We’d made hotel reservations in Wuyuan, so we needed to get there but neither of us could fathom the 28-kilometer trek. We decided to swallow our pride, call it a rest

they made us noodles- delicious!

day, and take a bus to our reserved hotel in Wuyuan. We took one short bus ride, then just started walking out of habit. We weren’t feeling any better, but for some reason we just decided to walk the rest of the way. I’m so glad we did. We came across a Taoist temple nestled in the mountains. It was such a beautiful temple

the new temple

that I was drawn in. There were new, extravagant, colorful buildings in the making, but we were more interested in the original structure that was OVER 1,000 YEARS OLD! We lit incense, paid our respects, and then walked on. Shortly after, we came to a HUGE rockslide that had completely swallowed up the road. There was no going 

around. Some clever entrepreneurs were profiting from the madness; for just 60 RMB we could

take a bamboo boat to the other side of the blockage. We accepted. The men hoisted Annimal’s trailer down the steep mountainside to the water, and onto a bamboo boat. It was such a beautiful, peaceful ride. I positioned myself at the front of the boat, took off my boots, and enjoyed every second on the water.

If I’m being completely honest, I’ve been absolutely homesick. The feeling washes over me about 20 times a day- every time I have to use a disgusting outhouse toilet OR I hear someone loudly hock a loogie (a man literally just did outside of my window as I wrote that sentence) OR while everyone I love is on the other side of the world at a bar together watching the March Madness NCAA basketball tourney without me. In these moments I want the comforts of home: mashed potatoes and ice cream, a hug from my mother, people with Western manners, drinking a beer (that

The food I wish I had- green and red chile smothered burrito

actually tastes good) with a group of my friends, drinking expensive drinks out of fancy glasses, climbing mountains with my dog, Kai, eating New Mexican food, and most of all, well- I’m a lady, so I won’t tell you that part. But once I snap out of my green chile daydream, I remind myself of the bigger picture. I take a breath and remember that this homesick feeling is a byproduct of chasing after a dream by offering literally everything I have. In return, I get the world. For these five months I’ve chosen adventure over comfort. I’ve proclaimed that I want views that take my breath away more than I want warm hugs, late nights, and to finish each day in the same comfortable bed. ‘Past Darrah’ made this decision for me months ago, upon saying ‘yes’ to this walk. Sometimes I think ‘Past Darrah’ is an evil bitch that hates ‘Present Darrah’ and is trying to kill me. But, let me tell you, yesterday while we were sitting on a bamboo boat being chartered through the calm, clear mountain river with the sun shining down- its rays kissing our noses and illuminating the water all the way down to the smooth stones on the river bed- I was sure that saying ‘yes’ to this walk was the right decision. And I was very appreciative of the crazy girl who was brave enough to make that call. 

The 1,000+ year old Taoist temple in Wuyuan

Elephant People

The past few days have had a strange vibe. A few days ago, upon leaving our hotel, Annimal got mad. Like, REALLY mad. The hotel wanted to charge us 30 RMB for a towel that they said we had ruined (but we didn’t). Frustrated at the prospect of getting ripped off, the wrath of The Annimal came out in full force. Annimal wasn’t mean or disrespectful- she was just angry. I

watched as she made a warranted scene in the lobby, showing the smug, snobby receptionist the wet towel, then throwing it down with force onto the hard tile with a loud, startling THUD.

‘Get it, girl’ I thought as I lounged on the lobby couch, watching the scene play out. Nobody messes with The Annimal.  

As we walked out of the Rip-Off Hotel, Ann expressed that she felt bad for going ape-shit. She said she’s never yelled at anyone like that before, nor has she ever been so angry. I told her that she shouldn’t feel bad at all; she had every right to be angry about being forced to pay an unwarranted fee. The receptionist was being unreasonable and awful (she had called Ann a few not-so-nice names). I love watching Ann find her voice and learn to stand up for herself, even if that means she has to get mad. Maybe it’s an American thing. Maybe it’s a strong woman thing. Either way, it’s a beautiful thing.

We have been going through the mountains in RURAL China. Like, the-whole-village-poops-in-the-same-hole-in-the-ground kind of rural. The positive side of this is finding unique artisans. A few days ago we stopped at a tiny shack for a rest after going over a mountain. The owners turned out to be beekeepers. Honeybees buzzed around us as we rested and took pictures. The laoban let us try some of their honey, which was absolutely delicious. I was excited to try their product not only because I love honey, but also to cure my ailments. An old wise tale (and a young-at-heart, wise Corkie) says that honey can help with allergies. We have been walking through mazes of

beautiful back roads that wind through fields of Cole flowers, stretching as far as the eye can see. The Cole flowers of Jiangxi are an amazing sight to see, but a miserable one if you’re allergic to the fuckers. (I did my best. I can’t not say it. It’s just so liberating. Try it. Say it out loud. Right now. It just feels. so. good. Also, It's good for you)

Yesterday we stopped in a small village for a late lunch and came upon an old woman standing in front of HUGE vats. Another artisan dedicated to her craft, she makes and sells mijiu- rice liquor. We followed her to her laboratory-like shack where she cooks the rice for the liquor. There were large baskets of steaming rice all around the entrance and a large pile of rice inside of the thresh hold. She showed us the huge brick vat where she cooks the rice. We went back across the path to her shop and she let us sample the mijiu. I took one sip, grimaced, coughed, and immediately took another sip. It was the most delicious jet fuel I’ve ever tasted. The woman told Annimal that the mijiu is 50% alcohol. No shit. We bought three bottles.

When we finally reached our destination town last night, we saw a large group of people gathered on the sidewalk, so we stopped to see what the commotion was. It turned out to be a group of people with disabilities doing a show. In a way, it was similar to a circus sideshow (“Come one, come all! Seeee the amazing Elephant Mannnnnn! Just five dollars will buy you a glimpse of this freak of nature!”). Close to one hundred people were gathered around to look at the people with disabilities. Out in front of the ‘performers’ there was a big box for people to donate money. The group consisted of a woman in a wheelchair, a blind man, and a few very short men who appeared to have disfigured spines. These men sat in small chairs and moved by rocking their wooden chairs side to side whilst leaning forward. One performer, a small man in a wooden chair, spotted me in the crowd and smiled at me. I smiled back and waved. A few more of the people in the show spotted me and stared. The first man began wobbling his chair in our direction. I walked to meet him halfway, bumping people in the crowd with my awkwardly large backpack like Forrest running through the crowd to meet Jenny. When we reached each other I held out my hand. He took it in his and smiled up at me.

I smiled, too. I think we were best friends in another life because we became instant friends in this life. Another one of the men in the show came over to me. I shook his hand and he kissed mine. Our precious moment ended when I looked up to see hundreds of eyes on me. The attention was no longer on the show; I was now the sideshow and I didn't like it. The crowd closed in around me. Claustrophobia set in and I took deep breaths, trying to locate Annimal, who was 5 yards away. She was having her own precious moment, bending down to talk to the woman a wheelchair who was the MC. As people inched closer to me, shutting out my new friends, and began reaching out to feel my skin, I put on my best “yes, I’m a foreigner. No, I’m not having a panic attack” face and called Annimal over to save me. She answered a few questions for the swarm of people, then decided it was time to go. We were unintentionally stealing the show. We said goodbye to our new friends and left as hundreds of eyes

followed us.

Annimal said that the woman in the wheelchair had shared their story with her. They are a group of ten people with disabilities who put on their act as a source of income since no factories or companies will hire them. She said they live together and take care of each other. Through tears, Ann had told our story to the woman, who offered an abundance of gratitude as she wept, too. We had such beautiful moments with these people, bonded by gratitude and compassion. It was truly an amazing moment that I’ll never forget as long as I live. 

Perspective.

Longhu Mountain (Dragon Tiger Mountain)

We had a magnificent rest day yesterday. I slept late, caught up on season three of Girls (my guilty pleasure) and got a painfully wonderful foot massage. It wasn’t all butterflies and rainbows, though. My neurotic American mind allowed me to enjoy my Berkeley acceptance for about five minutes. Then it immediately went into panic mode.

 “How the HELLo-dolly am I going to pay for this? Where in the world am I going to get 70 grand?” I stressed about it and stayed up all night looking for scholarships that I’m eligible for. 
Last week I was bugging Annimal about my zombie toe.

“Do you think it’s infected? Should I go to a doctor? The nurse at

Zombie Toe

my mom’s school saw a picture and said it could get infected. Could a doctor do anything?”

The ever-patient Annimal told me that it will heal in time if I keep it clean and dry. I hated that answer, but I did as advised and it looks much better this week. It still hurts, but so does the rest of my body- Annimal’s, too.

lost in emotion

This morning Annimal and I left our comfy hotel room in Yingtan late. As we walked through the city I busied my mind by watching people watch me pass by. About an hour after leaving the hotel I looked up to see those beautiful golden arches. Ann lead us right to a Mickey D’s. The truth is that I hate McDonald’s; in America I hardly ever step foot in one. If I ever do, it’s with a group of inhebriated friends because it’s the only place open past 2 a.m. I see McDonald’s CEOs as Bond villains sitting in their golden lairs stroking furless cats and laughing with each other about diabetes and childhood obesity. However, they’re the only ones with soft serve ice cream. I know it’s a contradiction. And I also know that it’s not real ice cream. But I’m walking across China for charity…will you let me have this one?

After ice cream and coffee, we continued on. I bought a few apples, oranges, and chocolate bars for the road. Usually I buy two apples. But today I

bought three (I know what you’re thinking. “Darrah, that’s such a boring, mundane fact about your day. Why the fart does that matter?” JUST. WAIT.). As we were walking through a courtyard we went by a man begging for change- another one of The Invisibles. People were passing by without looking at him. We passed by him too. 10 yards ahead, Annimal stopped and looked at me. We were on the same page. We doubled back and knelt down to him. He was sitting on a small tarp with his back up against a curb. His feet were extended in front of him and his change bowl was in-between his legs. He didn’t have any toes, but rounded, half-healed scabbed-over wounds at the ends of his feet where his toes used to be. It was obvious that the wounds had been badly infected, and there was mold growing on one of them. Upon

seeing this, I became sick to my stomach. Annimal talked to him and gave him our extra apple and some chocolate. She explained what we are doing and asked for his story. He told Annimal that his feet had been chopped in a factory accident. The factory paid for his hospital bills, but now he is unable to work and he has very little support. He receives 100 RMB per month for disability (about 15 USD/month, which is about 50 cents American per day to live off of). He hardly looked up at her as he talked. He appeared to be a very broken man. We gave him all that we could: food, a card and a smile. I walked away with two thoughts in my head.

1)  I’m so thankful for my sore, calloused, blistered feet and toes.

2)  It is a blessing to worry about how to pay for graduate school when I could be worrying about how to pay for my next meal.

Perspective. 

Watch Your Step

I have two EXTREMELY exciting announcements to make.

1)  THE CORKSTER IS COMING TO BEIJING! That’s right. The woman, the myth, the legend, Corkie Blackwater herself is meeting us in Beijing for the finale of The Walk! She bought her plane ticket this week. I think I may have guilted her into this by accident. I was so emotional about leaving Zhongshan in February, and after drinking too much whiskey with Annimal’s father on the first night of our journey, I called my parents in tears (don’t mix Baijiu and emotions) to tell them how amazing the day was and how sad I was that they had missed it. My parents know how important this walk is, and they scraped up the cash for Cork’s plane ticket. I am so motivated by this and BEYOND excited to celebrate this huge accomplishment with my mom. She’ll also come back to Zhongshan to celebrate my birthday with me before heading home to the US of A. (PS- if anyone in Kaiyin has a room that we can rent for a few days, let me know) Look out, China! Hurricane Corkie is comin’ in hot.

2)  I GOT ACCEPTED TO UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, BERKELEY!!!!!!!  I am so relieved. Last year I spent hundreds of hours applying to grad school: studying for the GRE, traveling to Hong Kong to take the Graduate Record Exam, writing essays, sending transcripts, and filling out applications. After a few days without internet, I finally received the email today that congratulated me on my acceptance into the Social Welfare Masters Degree program at the University of California, Berkeley. If I decide to go and figure out a way to fund it, I’ll start my masters degree this

fall.

Now onto more important matters- sunshine. We saw the sun for the first time in over a week! A few days ago it was so warm that we could walk in short sleeves without a jacket. We had a day and a half without rain. We were in heaven. Then the rain started up again. Thankfully, the weather is slightly warmer than last week, meaning we are wet but not freezing. I’ll take it.

Yesterday was an interesting day. After walking 15 kilometers we wanted to be done for the day. It was a bad day- wet and chilly. I was struggling because my zombie toe still hasn’t healed completely and I’m a little bit sick. I think it may be allergies. I’m allergic to China. Annimal was struggling because she received the news that her mother-in law, Anne Grey, passed away yesterday. Ann stopped walking and turned back to me with tears running down her cheeks. We stopped for a moment of silence on the side of the highway. Trucks whizzed by us as we embraced and said a prayer for the late Anne Grey. What I’m about to say sounds made up, but I swear to you it’s true. As soon as we finished our moment of silence for Anne Grey, the rain clouds parted and we were immersed in sunshine. It was the only five minutes of sunshine we saw that day. It was beautiful. Thanks, Anne Grey.

Even though we wanted to be finished after walking 15 kilometers, it wasn’t in the cards for us. Immediately after talking about catching a ride, we came upon a traffic jam. It was the longest traffic jam we’ve seen, spanning over 5 kilometers in each direction. We weaved in-between semi trucks and cars to avoid puddles, mud, and piles of rubbish. For 10 kilometers we walked to avoid heaps of trash, orange peels, sunflower seeds, cigarette butts, and even human feces. The truck drivers had obviously been stuck there for a long time because they all had accumulated these piles on the asphalt below their cab windows. It was disgusting. When we finally saw the hold- up we couldn’t help but stop to take pictures. Two trucks had collided, hitting their corners head-on. The contents of one truck had flown everywhere, littering the road with crushed and dented pots and pans. What a mess. Since traffic was at a standstill and catching a ride was impossible, we ended up walking almost three more hours until we found accommodation- the upstairs bedroom of a family’s restaurant. The price was 40 RMB (7

USD) if we didn’t use the heater and 60 RMB (10 USD) if we did. We decided to spare the extra expense for some heat. There was no internet, the heater barely worked, the highway noise was almost unbearable, and we had to walk outside through the rain to get to the bathroom. But it was a dry place to sleep for the night and that’s all we could ask for…..literally. 

A Day in the Life....

There is a routine that Ann and I go through on a daily basis. Of course we meet different people and each town has its own flair. For example, today we stopped at a convenience store in a small village that, unbeknownst to us, had a school in the back. As we waited for water to boil for our coffee, a few children came out to see the Weigoren (foreigner) in the shop. One more

child came out of the back. Then a few more came out. Before we knew it, our table was surrounded by close to 30 children, all asking me questions, handing me papers with Chinese writing on them, or simply standing and staring at me. It’s possible (and probable, judging by the way they were acting) that I was the first foreigner many of these children had ever seen.We spent the next 20 minutes reading the kids’ questions, writing answers, and talking to the children about what we’re doing. It was a precious, unexpected moment in the day that I will cherish for a long time. This is one sweet little example of the morsels of fun and spontaneity that we’ve been fed along our way. But there is also a cycle and a rhythm to each day. Here is a typical day in the life of Polkahontas and Annimal.

7:30 Annimal wakes up, fills up and turns on the electric kettle to boil water, and gently tells me that it’s 7:30, then begins packing her trailer. I turn over, nuzzle deeper into my sleeping bag, and return to my dream about being a robot bird.

7:48 I finally decide to face the cold and climb out of my sleeping bag. Ann pours hot water into my camp mug and stirs me a cup of instant coffee. I try to convince myself that Chinese squat toilets are not the worst. I splash cold water on my face, look in the mirror, and tell myself I’ve never looked better.

8:05 As we pack our bags and sip our awful instant coffee, I say good night to my family in America over Skype chat. Love you, mommy.

8:30 We struggle Annimal’s trailer down the stairs of our hostel to check out.

8:35 We find a restaurant or a street vendor that sells labufan (steamed cloth-like noodles with egg) or baozi (little bread pillows from heaven, filled with meat, vegetables, or (my favorite) sweet red bean paste) and eat a quick breakfast before hitting the road.

8:47 We begin walking (sometimes with volunteers), taking 5 minutes to stretch, receiving funny looks from passersby the whole time.

8:52 I hit ‘play’ on my ipod and check out into the world of Jake and Amir on the podcast titled ‘If I Were You’ (if you like to laugh until you pee yourself a little bit and you aren’t offended by the f-word (which it appears some of you really are… I’m terribly sorry if I’ve offended you. In fact, I’d like to take a second to assure you that I will take future steps to fit the image of the docile, innocent girl one apparently ‘should’ be while doing a charity walk. My first step is to censor my voice and my writings by substituting any future f-bombs with the least controversial word I can think of……….. fart. I value you as a reader very much, and I’d hate to turn any of you off to this epic adventure with my mother-farting potty mouth), I would highly suggest listening to this podcast.

9:32 I ask Annimal how far we have gone and how far we have left to go.

10:33 Annimal and I stop for a snack and a bathroom break at a convenience store. We snack on fruit, nuts, Snickers bars, and strange cracker things that taste terrible. Annimal explains to the group of people gathered around us what we are doing and answers questions about the Weigoren she brought with her. I try to convince myself that Chinese squat toilets aren’t THE WORST.

10:35 I ask Annimal how far we have gone and how far we have left to go.

10:47 We keep walking. I hit ‘play’ and check out into the world of ‘Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me’, NPR’s least boring show and the only entertaining way to inject awful American news stories into my brain. If you like to laugh until you have tears in your eyes and you ARE offended by the f-word, I would highly recommend this podcast.

11:23 I ask Annimal how far we have gone, and how far we have left to go.

12:20 Annimal and I stop for a cold lunch, snacking on more fruit, nuts, chocolate and weird cracker things.

12:54 We keep walking. I hit ‘play’ and check out to the sweet, sweet melody of Guy Roz’s voice interviewing some of the most brilliant minds of our time about their latest projects and findings.

2:37 We take a bathroom break at a convenience store. Annimal explains what we are doing to the group of people who have gathered around us. She answers their multitude of questions about the Weigoren she brought with her. I play with the shopkeeper’s children for a few minutes, then I follow directions to the bathroom, soon realizing that their ‘bathroom’ is just a hole dug in the ground with two 2x4s as foot-holds, all within a brick structure that has no doors. I wish for a Chinese squat toilet.

2:48 We keep walking. I’ve run out of downloaded podcasts and resort to learning the ways of effective negotiation via audiobook, imagining different scenarios that will call for learned skills once I become president of the Navajo Nation (“Barack…can I call you Barack?...No? Ok. Mr. President, I know it may not seem like you’re filling an immediate need by using American tax dollars to supply the Navajo Nation with unlimited ice cream cones, but let’s look at the facts.

1. I like ice cream

2. I’m the Chief” )

2:49 I ask Annimal how far we have to go, and whether or not she wants a piece of chocolate (a peace offering for bugging the fart out of her all day)

3:57 We take another bathroom break. I’m thankful for a Chinese squat toilet and not an outhouse.

4:17 I take the ear buds out of my ears, distracted from the media chatter by the overwhelming beauty of China. I spend the next few minutes in awe of both the magnificence of my surroundings and the enormity of the goal we’re actively accomplishing.

5:23 We achieve our walking goal for the day and take a ride or walk to the

nearest bearable hostel that doesn’t appear to have rats, bedbugs, or a smoke stench that causes our eyes to water upon entering the room.

5:37 We check in after Annimal bargains a price, then explains what we’re doing to the laoban (boss) and answers many questions about the Weigoren she brought with her.

5:46-5:53 We struggle to carry Annimal’s pack up the narrow staircase of the hostel to our designated floor.

5:55 We collapse onto our hard beds, put our feet up on the wall, evaluate our calloused and blistered feet, and reconnect to wifi and the world.

6:20 We hobble downstairs to find a meal and a beer. I try to convince myself that I like Chinese food and that eating rice and stir-fried vegetables

for the 8^th time this week is a blessing.

7:12 I take the longest, hottest shower possible, all the while standing over a Chinese squat toilet.

7:49 Meditation.

8:09 Bed yoga. It’s like normal yoga, but you can do it while you’re lying in your bed.

8:24 We write, send blogs and videos, plan tomorrow’s route, talk to family, massage our sore muscles, and try to stay warm in the freezing hostel room.

10:22 We turn the lights out to rest up to do it all over again the next day. 

The Invisible Man

We took a rest day today. Ann and I sat in our dingy little hostel room and did nothing all day until we were too hungry to stay put and we had to go out into the world. Though, I didn’t really do nothing. I watched ‘The Secret Life of Walter Mitty’ for the 1,000^th time and talked to my family for an hour. I’m also re-growing skin on my toe (which is hard work, believe me). I’ve never seen a blister this bad. When it first developed a few days ago, I looked at my toe and almost immediately threw up. So, needless to say, it was nice to not walk on my zombie foot again today. It is healing, and today is the first day since the blister developed that I can walk without limping.  As Ann worked on her daily blog (Annimal is much better at writing every day than I am. Consistency is a virtue that I lack) she turned to me and asked me a question. She asked which experience was more difficult for me: this past week, or the second day of the journey when I was emotional, tired, and hung-over. After giving it thorough thought, I decided that this past

week was more miserable because it was actual physical misery. Picture this. On the cold day that my blister started, we walked 26 kilometers in the rain. As I outlined in my previous post, we couldn’t find a hotel or even a warm restaurant to sit in while we figured out what to do. I was drenched, freezing, and saw no relief in the immediate future. Beyond that, I didn’t have the language skills to help the situation. The best thing I could do was sit shivering in my wet clothes in the dark, chilly, concrete restaurant and wait for Ann to sort it out. There was literally nothing I could do to help my situation improve. What an awful feeling that was. Through my misery, I gained more of something valuable. It’s something the world needs more of; it’s empathy. On the morning of the really bad day- before my own misery set in- I saw a man whom nobody else saw. He was crouched on the side of the highway opposite us. At first I thought he was a pile of rubbish, as there are many of those near the highway. Contrary to this belief, he wasn’t rubbish. I saw the man with a dirty blanket draped over him, his head hung low and covered by long, dark hair that was matted over his face. I called ahead to Ann, who stopped for me to untie our bag of fruit from her trailer. I crossed the highway and walked up to the heap of a man. He didn’t lift his head when I approached. Without knowing a thing about him, I could see that this was a human who was defeated by life. As I got closer, I saw that under the blanket the man was completely naked. I began to feel afraid. I have enough experience with people with mental illness to know that you can never be too sure what his or her next move might be. But I couldn’t walk away without completing my mission. I

One of the invisible people we've seen 

wanted to give the man food, yes; but beyond that, I wanted him to receive an important message- one that everybody needs to hear, and few people stop long enough to communicate. The message is “I see you and I care about you”. This is a simple message that I suspect this man hadn’t heard in a long time, if ever.  I left the bag of fruit at the feet of the invisible man and walked back across the highway with tears in my eyes. For the next few kilometers, I thought about the man and with each question that popped into my head, my heart broke a little bit more. Does he have anyone to take care of him? Where is his family? Does his family see him like this? Has he hurt anybody? How long can he live like this? Will anyone ever help him? Has he ever experienced happiness?

My last course in college was a shadow-ship at a psychiatric penitentiary for the ‘criminally insane’- a state hospital in California. When I saw the naked man on the highway, I was reminded of the men I met that summer in California. Many of the men at the penitentiary wanted so desperately to get out of there and to go home. But there were a few who openly expressed that they had no desire to leave the hospital because there they were provided with “three hots and a cot” - three hot meals and a warm place to sleep at night. They had previously experienced the horrors of being homeless, hungry, and, in some

Another man among the rubbish under a bridge

cases, psychotic on the street. They knew what it felt like to be invisible and they saw the psychiatric penitentiary as a haven from that. It’s impossible for me to imagine a life experience so terrible that I would rather dwell in a prison. It breaks my heart to try. All I can say that I’ve been wet, cold, and unable to help myself. And I can tell you that it sucks. really. bad.

 When we finally got to a hotel room at the end of our miserable day, I cried about it. The feelings of helplessness and despair had shaken me. Thankfully, I have not experienced much of this in my life, so these are feelings that are both unfamiliar and unsettling to me. I’d like to keep it that way, if possible.

I’m not sure why the invisible man struck my heart so deeply. I don’t have answers or big political ideas to solve this problem. I don’t even have much of an encouraging message. I suppose being heartbroken sometimes is simply part of the mystery of this trip…the mystery of life. We can choose to ignore it, or we can immerse ourselves in the discomfort, feel it, and let it teach us to be more empathetic. Of course, I choose the latter. Next time you’re faced with this choice, I hope you will too.  

ARRRRGGGHHHHH!

China can be a difficult place to be for a foreigner. It is a culture completely different from the Western world. There are many characteristics to this developing country that are hard to experience as someone who has seen the other side. To begin with, there is a HUGE trash problem here. This is very sad, as China’s scenery is absolutely breathtaking, and almost every inch of

it is littered with trash. As a Colorado girl at heart, and a person who generally appreciates the Earth, such vast litter is a difficult thing to see.

As bad as the trash is, it is the honking that may kill me. I am not an angry person. I usually only get really mad at people who take a shot at my pride and succeed i.e. ex boyfriends. But I tap into a reservoir of anger at every truck driver who drives past us leaning on his horn. The road we’re on now is very wide and newly paved. There is PLENTY of room for two trucks to pass each other and for scooters or walkers to be on the side of the road. However, for some reason unbeknownst to me, these truck drivers feel the need to honk their horn as they pass us. I’m not talking about

a friendly, “Hey, I’m coming through” toot toot. These fuckers put all of their body weight on that horn and they hold it from the time they see us to the time they’re well past us. Sometimes I’ll be turned around to talk to Annimal when one approaches and I’ll catch eyes with the driver through the windshield. I’ll hold eye contact as they drive past, bursting our eardrums with their foghorns. “I hate you. I hate you. I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH!” is what I tell them with my eyes. But I don’t think they can hear me over their blaring horns.

It has been a rough week overall. I’m trying to tell myself that it’s all in my head and that if I change my attitude everything won’t look so dismal. That’s true to an extent. But the throbbing blister that feels as though my right pinky toe has been ripped off says otherwise.

Five weeks into this adventure, the struggle of culture shock has hit me with a vengeance. It all started with the volunteer leader in one of the towns we visited this week. Let’s call him Mr. Lu. Last Friday we rolled into Mr. Lu’s town and took a ride from him once we reached our kilometer goal for the day. He took us to a hotel, then out to dinner with a group of his volunteers. We went to a vegetarian buffet restaurant which was closing, meaning there were only scraps of food left. I didn’t mind because by this point I am so tired of Chinese food that it doesn’t matter whether it looks good or not- I don’t want to eat it. There was a girl from Singapore who spoke English in the group. I talked her ear off throughout dinner and she laughed when I told her how much I wanted ice cream.

“There’s a supermarket in this town that sells Haagen Daz.” She said. “We can go tomorrow since you’re having a rest day.” I wanted to kiss her (but I didn't). We said goodnight to the volunteers and made plans to see them the following day.

The whole crew knocked on our door around lunchtime the next day. We went to a restaurant near our hotel for lunch. As we ate, I started wondering which Haagen Daz flavors the supermarket might have, and what I might choose. My blissful thoughts were interrupted by Singapore girl translating for Mr. Lu.

“Mr. Lu would like to take you both to the train station where our group is volunteering. Would you like to go?” I tried to quickly think of a way to get out of it without being rude.

“Fuck no. This is our day off. Why the fuck would I want to go to a motherfucking train station? I’ve already told you that want ice cream and a massage and a nap” is what I wanted to say. Instead, I said, “We won’t stay long, will we? I still want to go to the supermarket and maybe get a massage. We need to rest this afternoon, too.”

“We won’t stay long.” She assured me. “We’ll stop in for a minute just to see.

We made the quick drive to the train station and AN HOUR AND A HALF

later we still found ourselves there. “Stopping in for a minute just to see” is apparently code for “we’re going to keep you here until you wish you were dead”. We stood around, doing nothing except taking pictures with volunteers. Then we were ushered outside into the rain to do more standing and more nothing.  After the train had come and gone, I started to become extremely agitated. Every time we expressed that we wanted to go, there was something we needed to stay “just a little longer” for. Mr Lu wanted us to stand by the entrance and help people with their bags. Mr. Lu wanted us to go out on the platform in the cold, rainy weather to help show people where to board the train (you board it near the doors). Mr. Lu wanted us to stay a bit longer for a television interview.

“I’m going back to the hotel” I finally told Ann. “Tell homeboy he can either take me, or I’m taking a taxi or walking”. I’d had enough. As I stormed out of the station with Ann behind me, Mr. Lu quickly arranged someone to take us back to our hotel. He seemed upset that we didn’t want to be his prime circus act anymore. Regardless of how pissed he was, nobody was more angry than I was, going back to the room without ice cream. (In hindsight, I know this sounds ridiculous, but I was SO MAD). When we got back to the hotel I went to bed livid, hoping to nap my anger away.

This is just one example of the many frustrations Ann and I have dealt with so far. We have met A TON of extremely helpful volunteers, and a few who used us to push their own agenda or to look important. Yesterday we experienced our worst day so far. It ended with me bawling, curled up into a ball in my sleeping bag. But a while before that we were wet, cold and shit out of luck. After walking 26 kilometers in the rain, we arrived to a small town in the late afternoon. We were cold, I was soaking wet (my ‘waterproof’ jacket was made in China) and I had a blister on my toe that

made it nearly impossible to walk. We stopped at one hotel that wanted to overcharge us, so we decided to keep going. We stopped at another hotel where nobody was present. Weird. We decided on the third hotel and got all the way up to the room and began unpacking our things before being told that there wasn’t any heat or hot water. We got our money back and went back to the first hotel. The boss woman there had apparently changed her mind about wanting to host us, and told us the hotel was now full. Perfect. Defeated, we sat in a cold, concrete restaurant eating steaming noodles while we waited for a miracle. We even ran into a volunteer whom Ann had previously spoken to on the phone. We were sure he would help us. But After Ann asked him for help, he stood up in front of his table full of people and said, “Please call me if you have any difficulties” before turning his back to us.  

On the contrary, there are some great people who have helped astronomically. After the debacle with Mr. Lu, we hesitantly accepted a dinner invitation from a man and his wife who heard we were in the area and wanted to befriend us. They took us to the nicest restaurant in town and expressed how much they admired what we were doing. They were respectful of our time, asking humbly if we would mind stopping quickly to meet their children. It actually was a quick stop and their children were

lovely. They took us to a grocery store that didn’t have Haagen Daz, but it did have snacks and supplies for the road that the family insisted on paying for. These were lovely, respectful people. It’s true that you have to take the good with the bad. Sometimes I need help remembering that the good outweighs the bad, and that the bad days won’t last forever. We've just got to breathe through them.