Camera Eulogy

My D200 and 24mm f/2.8 are gone. They were stolen out of my backpack at the Shenzhen train station three nights ago. It is pretty awful to be camera-less, but at least my equipment was very well used before it was taken away. Insurance will cover getting brand-new replacements (minus a $500 deductible), but I will miss my D200.

This is the first photograph taken with my camera, in Syntagma Square, Athens, Greece.
And this is the last photo (downloaded) from my camera, in Beijing, China, taken for a story about Chinese drinking games on November 26th.
I received my D200 in Athens on June 11th, 2007, and have had it with me for the last 2.5 years, traveling across four continents and shooting many, many assignments. Thank you, dear camera.
As for good news, I think I will upgrade to a D700.

Shanghai

Oriental Pearl Tower, Pudong

Outside the Bus Station (2)

In the back of the Datong Bus Station, a group of men were working on two vans and one bus.


I started taking photos, and they pretty much ignored me, save for a few nods and smiles.

Inside the broken bus.

Outside the Bus Station (1)

Outside the Liuliqiao Bus Station, Beijing.

My magazine needed photos to accompany a story about long distance bus travel, so I selflessly agreed to go on a trip to Datong, Shangxi Province.

Scorpions for Dinner

My friends and I went to Wangfujing Snack Market last night. It's great, especially if you enjoy snacking on things like these:


We all tried starfish, worms, Crickets and scorpions. None of them tasted too bad. The scorpions were best, as they tasted like popcorn.

Julie from New Hampshire, with Crickets


Bronwyn from Cape Town with crickets, too.

Helena, of Madrid, trying silk worm.


Yum.

Dalian

Dalian, China

Halloween in China

Happy Valley Amusement Park
Beijing, China

On the Street

Beijing, China

Food Poisoned and Pick Pocketed

I had ridiculously bad food poisoning this week. It came courtesy of Schlotzsky's Deli, here in Beijing. Right before I started being sick, I had crazy vivid dreams that I was the wife of Chinese nobility in ancient times, fleeing from an unknown enemy through in the city of Xi'an. I also had a dream about the evils of South West turkey bacon sandwiches.

I was sick for a few days. I got taken to the hospital, tested for Swine Flu, given an IV. Thankfully, my bilingual friend Steven translated everything for me.

Ironically, I think the location of Schlotzsky's Deli that used to be in Eagan (Minn.) closed due to food-illness issues. I can't find anything to back this up, aside from a quote that says, "The Eagan store closed this month, and details are sketchy about that location", from a 2004 Twin Cities Business Journal article. I was laughing about this when I was at the deli, eating my sandwich.


Earlier this month, my coworker Randi and I took a day trip to Tianjin. My wallet got stolen in a crowded clothing market.

This what we did:
Train to Tianjin
Walked down cultural street
Visited Confucius temple.
Walked through clothing market.
Had wallet stolen.
Took cab to restaurant.
Discovered wallet was stolen.
Had cab go back to market.
Spent two hours at police station.
Ate noodles.
Train home.

The stolen wallet has been a hassle, but not the end of the world. I didn't loose my passport, and Tianjin is a pretty nice city.

The cultural street.
A flood of Caucasian dolls, amid hordes of China-themed trinkets and painted scrolls.

The Confucius Temple.


Randi, my coworker. She used to be a lawyer in Manhattan, lost her job in the recession, decided to do a journalism internship in China. She is extremely nice.

Golden Week in Beijing

The first week of October was Golden Week in China. Beginning on October 1st, the 60th anniversary of the PRC, and continuing through the Autumn Festival, everyone had a break from their jobs and classes. It is also the time when almost everyone travels around the country. I decided to stay in Beijing and photograph the crowds.

The hubbub leading up to National Day was huge. The city got cleaned, flower and light displays were in every park, Police started showing up on the sidewalks in exponential numbers. I was expecting massive crowds for the celebration, and lots of fireworks in the street.

On National Day, I attempted to get as close to the parade route as possible. The streets were eerily quiet, as the residents of Beijing had been asked to stay in their homes watch watch the events on TV. However, I didn't realize that everyone would comply with the request.

The police had blocked all streets within a half-mile radius of any and all events, and I was unable to even see the parade. (This article paints a pretty accurate picture of what it was like to be in Beijing, but with a bit of hyperbole. I mean, yes, there were crazy amounts of police, but they mostly had nothing to do aside from sit on the streets and chat.)

Mike, a guy from New York, and I decided to attempt to get close to the parade together, but didn't succeed. We ended up watching the beginning of the broadcast from a convenience mart. (He is the solitary westerner in the crowd below.) It was strange to know that all of these crazy military antics was happening only three blocks away.

Everyone was looking at this, which was tuned to this broadcast.

I also went to the Badaling section of the Great Wall over the break. It is the "Disneyland" section of the wall, the one you probably picture in your head when you think Great Wall of China. Likewise, it is also the section of the wall which most Chinese nationals aspire to visit.


The crowds were immense. It was similar to being in an over-capacity subway train, but only if everyone on the train was attempting to climb a mountain at the same time. But it was also very enjoyable, as everything and everyone around were so interesting. The man, above, was sticking his tongue out at his wife.


In this crazy crowd, there were few foreigners. There were even fewer foreigners with light hair. As when I was in Lioaning province, I got stopped often to pose for pictures. It makes me feel rather odd, at best, when this happens. I wanted to assure people that there are millions of people who look vaguely like me elsewhere in the world.


I also saw the opera Turandot at the Birds Nest Stadium. The street below is the main access road to the stadiums. Now that the Olympics are finished, it is mainly used as a four-lane sidewalk.


I arrived at the Olympic Green about ten minutes before the opera's start, and managed to scalp a ticket. It was absolutely fantastic to be in that stadium, let alone to see a performance there. Unfortunately, the opera was in Italian with Chinese subtitles and I only had a vague notion of the plot. The storyline did not make much sense until I was able to find it on Wikipedia.

The music was brilliant. I have had Nessun Dorma ringing in my head every since. You should listen to by sung Pavarotti, even if you dislike opera. It is stunning.


It was a brilliant, fantastic time to be in Beijing.

N. Korean Border, II. and The Wall

This is the Hushan section of the Great Wall of China. It is about eight miles north from Dandong, right along the North Korean border. The Hushan (Tiger Mountain) section is the eastern beginning of the Great Wall. (That or it "tis the starti of easter the Great Wall." At least the English decipherable, unlike some as some signs.)


This section is very short, very steep, and very sweet. It is only a mile from end to newly-renovated end, and there was almost no one around. One of the most interesting things about it is that it practically overhangs into North Korean land.


At the top of the wall, I came upon this man eating breakfast. He insisted on sharing it with me, then became my adopted grandfather for the next two hours. We finished walking the wall together, visited the museum together, hiked to Yi Bu Kua together. He only knew two words in English, "Hello" and "Okay", so whenever he wanted my attention, he would shout, "Hello, Hello!" really loudly. He was an extremely nice and an extremely agile old man. After we finished the hike, he bought me a peach, gave me a hug and helped me find me a cab back to town.


This is Yi Bu Kua, which literally means "One Leap Away". It is the portion of the Yalu River that narrows to about a meter across, and is, strangely enough, a tourist destination (On the Chinese side). I did not make the leap, as there were three men sitting in on the North Korean bushes, yelling at people who got too close.

I visited the Badaling section of the Great Wall a few days ago. It was night and day compared the the Hushan section. More on that later.

North Korean Border

I visited the border of North Korea and China last weekend. It was a bizarre experience. The two countries are separated by the Yalu River, and at one point, it narrows to a meter-wide width.
The portion of the river I visited first was much wider, about the size of the Mississippi. The city of Dandong, China, where I stayed, is across from Sinuiju, North Korea.


This is the street parallel to the river. The banners are celebrating the 60th anniversary of the People's Republic of China, while hiding an ungainly building.


North Korea is the far bank. Lots of fisherman and swimmers were out in the murky water.


North Koreans in the flesh. I paid five kwai to peer at the opposite side through these binoculars.


Can you guess which side is which? This is at the end of the old Sino-Korean Friendship Bridge, only half of it is still standing. It was built in 1909, and bombed by the American army in 1950. The new bridge, which actually connects to Korea, is located 50 meters up stream.



A street fair was happening when I was there. It reminded me of grand 'ole days, if grand 'ole days had squid-tentacles-on-a-stick booths every block.





The last thing I did before I left Dandong was to take a cruise on the Yalu River. It was pretty much a safari into North Korean waters.

It was very strange. Our boat, filled with affluent Chinese, Japanese, and American travelers (just one American), coasted along the river as we snapped photos and peered through rented binoculars. Aside from the lack of infrastructure, it wasn't too different from the Chinese side. The same fisherman were catching the same fish. The same school kids were wearing the same clothes. The same old men were sitting alongside the same river boardwalk. Political borders are so strange.