School keeps me busy. It’s the tail end of spring break and I’m finally updating my technology.
If you subscribe to my RSS feed please change the address or add this new one:
http://blog.ryanroth.net/rss
The current RSS feed will not receive any more updates. I am switching technologies. Bye bye wordpress. Hello Tumblr.
I have made all sorts of moves this year and haven’t blogged a single one, I’m sorry. Tumblr will allow me to be more versatile with my thoughts + photos. In other news, I’ve been recording videos of myself all year and hope to make a short documentary at the end of med school. We’ll see if that pans out. More soon on my new platform – which will be at this very address (http://blog.ryanroth.net).
Getting back to studying full time is hard. Today for example: 4 hours of lecture, 2 hours of small groups, 2 hours in the cadaver lab. Just had dinner and now it’s time to study. I’m finally getting into the swing of things here at school but it hasn’t come without a little pain. My first 10 weeks of school are spent learning anatomy. Yes, I spend a few hours a week on physical examination skills – but the majority of my time is spent in lab, lecture, or digging through a series of textbooks. And for the most part I like it.
I have time for the rest of my life too. Stephen, my roommate, and I run a few times a week. I cycle zero or one times a week, and I watch a TV show or two every week. I spend most of my lunches voluntarily going to rad or interesting lectures but a majority of my nights are committed to memorizing body parts. Good times in Aurora.
Anywho, I’m going to try to get my cameras out a little more. Here is a quickie slideshow of Stephen and for a few hours before the exam last Weds. One photo per minute for 96 minutes.
Some of my study materials spread out over at school.
Last Monday I awoke to my alarm at 7:15 am. I’m not one of those types that is groggy for a half hour in the morning. When the alarm goes off I am awake, plain and simple. There I was lying down and I was flabbergasted – I couldn’t imagine why my alarm was going off so damned early. I lay there for at least 45 seconds before I remembered.
“Oh yeah”, I thought, “Medical School!”
How I forgot is beyond me. Regardless, I made it to day 1 of orientation with no problem. Tomorrow I start my first day of classes at the University of Colorado School of Medicine. My life is about to see some wild changes in social behavior. This blog here is going to change too. I’m going to try to chronicle the ups and downs of school so as to represent what a slightly older gentlemen going to medical school might expect in the future.
I’ve never taken anatomy before. Tomorrow I get 6 hours of anatomy lecture. Apparently the learning curve is pretty steep at the beginning.
The white coat ceremony was on Friday – here is a photo my father snapped.
I watched the first game of the world cup in Hong Kong. We stood outside of a bar watching it on a tv in the window. 100 or so people gathered in the street with us; beers were aplenty. Other pedestrians hurried through us as they made their way to some other drinking hole to watch the game. Our beverages had been purchased from 7-eleven a few blocks away. EVERYONE was buzzing with excitement for the world cup, the energy of the evening, the month, the copa – simply contagious. Suid Afrika 1, Mexico 1. A few nights and many games and beers later I flew to Munich, Germany; I was on the way to see two friends Alex and I met last summer in Hyder, Alaska. But first I spent a day in my own exploring Munich – the most livable city in the world according to Monocle magazine of England (tied for my favorite along with GOOD).
Livable it was. Munich and Germany have something the United States does not. Age. And That simple fact makes everything about an American city and perhaps American culture different. I’ll write more about that when I get back though.
Like a moron I booked a train to Frankfurt while the German team was playing Slovakia. The previous 24 hours in Munich had quickly confirmed that the country had a singular focus: World Cup Füsball. Vehicles and buildings were adorned with German flags, and every time i stumbled across a park or open space in the city I found a giant screen for the public to get together and watch games. Every conversation I heard was about the cup (Germans use the phrase “world cup” rather than the German language counterpart). So that I missed the chance to watch the Germans huddled in a Munich beer garden was my first real critical mistake of this trip. Oh well.
The three hour train ride further confirmed that the Germans are football crazed. The game was broadcast on the train radio and literally every passenger plugged headphones to listen. That my german was not quite up to speed was irrelevant; I relied on mass facial expressions and group sighs to follow the game. Loss 1-0.
Florian picked me up and we quickly sped me off to a public viewing screen to catch the second half of the US versus Slovenia. Beer, foreign snacks, and great soccer bombarded my senses. Man was I glad to be in Germany. After the tie Florian and I drove to Klein Garau to meet up with Bettina, his wife and my friend. Over some local dark beers we loosely planned my three days with them. Everything revolved around the world cup. That night we drove to Meinz and strolled around town. Churches from the 1300’s, pedestrian walkways littered with beerhouses and cafes seemed to be the norm there. So too did soccer. We walked to the famous Rhein river. Cafe. Beer. Pretzels. Lawn chairs. Sunset. World Cup overlooking the water. Check. When it got too cold we walked 100 m over to a fine dining restaurant. Seats. Wine. Big screen. World Cup. Check.
So went my weekend and I loved every second. During the day we would watch soccer, explore, and eat; at night we watched soccer and drank. Florian and Bettina kept checking to see if I was OK with the level of football we were watching. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Here is how Saturday went down: we had Bread, cheese, and sausage for breakfast. We then drove to Heidlberg via the autobahn. We visited some friends of theirs and chatted about soccer. Then Florian and I hiked up to the castle in town which was overlooking the Rhein. Bettina hunted for a soccer viewing spot in the plaza. And that was it. By 3 pm it was world cup time and for us the rest of the world stopped. We watched the game in a cafe hovering over some recovery drinks overlooking the main plaza in Heidlberg. We zipped off to a small town to meet some of their friends – Roger, Nicole, and their son Johan. . Two beers later the next game started. At halftime we kicked around a soccer ball in the courtyard with Johan. More soccer, more beers, and then schnapps of Sam Buca. Whoa. 3 am finally hit and I couldn’t stay awake any longer – I was starting to think I wouldn’t make it az a German afterall.
Sunday we lounged and watched füsball all day. Bettina convinced me to blow up an air matress in front of their tv. And that is how I watched all three games. At one point Florian leaned over and asked, “Sausage?” I grabbed it and remarked, “I feel so German right now.” What a day. Caught the over night train to Munich. Plane to London. Plane to Cape Town.
—
I wrote this on my phone, so please excuse any egregious errors. No computers in my life since HK.
Also, next time I do find a computer I will be removing my blog from facebook. They never include my photos or videos in my posts (+ their privacy controls suck) so goodbye FB. Add my blog to your RSS reader or simply check back on occasion. Thanks for understanding.
That is what Jay labeled Hong Kong. A little rough around the edges, but the remains of British control are evident everywhere. In HK the folks drive on the left side, spitting is outlawed, and English widespread. Lines exist, the people are a little heavier, littering frowned upon (steep fines), and the beaches clean. It is still China quite literally as it was handed over by the British government back in 1997. It is however treated differently by the central Chinese government and labeled a Special Administrative Region (SAR). Because of this we had our passports stamped when leaving China and went through the normal immigration requirements on the Hong Kong side. Totally weird to me considering HK is technically China. The same was true when we ventured to Macau for an afternoon.
Similarities with the mainland are quite prounced as well, hence the “Diet China” label. Language, smells, density (people + spaces), and food were quite familiar despite the border crossing.
Hong Kong had diverse opportunities that, quite frankly, surprised me. On day two Anthony led us outside of the city for a hike in the mountains. What, mountains? Hiking? Dragonsback was grand in every way. Only photos could properly convey the beautiful beaches, oceans, and the exotic plant and wildlife that we saw. I’m writing this post on my phone in the airport sans Internet – so I’m not sure – but I think such photos can be found over on my photographicas page. Utter wilderness in such close proximity (read: no suburbs) was unexpected and so too was a mile long series of escalators with what seemed like hundreds of western style restaurants off of each side. We indulged in those restaurants with more enthusiasm and joy than I expected from myself. We had one Chinese meal in hong kong, our first, and it was also our last.
Hong Kong was expensive too. It hurt the pocketbooks, but worth every penny. The cab rides, beers, tram rides, hotels, and restaurants all provided top notch service. So too, did the people. And the land – magnificent views.
I left Guangxi province a while ago. But it was so great, I have to share a few things with you. First, Ping’an, a minority village 100 km or so north of Guilin. Rice farming is the way of life in Ping’an. Daybreak to sunset the farmers are out on their terraces working meticulously to care for their rice. Growing rice is a delicate art and each farmer may have only 2-3 terraces in a sea of what seems like thousands. As such, it is quite a sight from a distance to watch a village at work all on their beautiful mountains.
Sadly, it was clear to me that the serenity of this small village will soon disappear. As was clear with the rest of China – Ping’an is also on the verge of a building boom. With that will come throngs of Chinese tourists and the quick decline of beauty. Everywhere I have traveled here I have seen an overwhelming and consistent theme – zero concern for the environment. Walking the tight paths around the mountains in Ping’an, unsightly trash on the walkways and waterways was everywhere. Damn.
From a distance the village is a marvel, a spectacle to the eye. But on closer inspection it was obvious to me that the village is already falling apart at the seems. With the onslaught of more tourists that see the world as their waste bin coupled with villagers of the same mindset, Ping’an and the rice terraces are on the path to a disappointing future.
We met two Belgian friends in Ping’an; They convinces us to visit Yangshou – the second gem in Guangxi Province. As is characteristic with most europeans I have met while traveling, Tom and Tiné were in the middle of a grand adventure. After spending three months in Asia they were moving to New Zealand to try to start a new life.
Yangshou, a few hundred km south of Ping’an, was surrounded by limestone mountains. We stayed in the countryside for a few days. For the first time on our trip, we left the hustle and bustle of the city behind. We found no hawkers selling there wares where we stayed. Chickens and dogs ran freely in the streets several gorgeous mountains were only a few hundred meters away. We hiked, we biked, and we ate terrific food. On one hike we got caught in a torrential downpour. Instantly, a family of village people invited us into their concrete home. They offered us stools to sit on and tried to communicate with us. Utter failure on our part. I wanted to know Chinese so badly at that moment. These were the nicest, kindest, people in all of China. They were farmers, and they were poor. Without a second thought they cared for four foreign strangers and brought us into their home. They were brilliant, and so was Yangshou. This was the China I had been hoping to see. I had seen bits and pieces of such greatness throughout the last few weeks, but the outskirts of Yangshou had it all.
China is wet down here in the south. The past ten days or so we have been in Guangxi province. Guilin, Ping’an, Yangshou. All are awesome in their own respect. And because of that I’ve been had little time to write about my experience. I’ll get some of that taken care of on the train to Shenzhen tonight (Hong Kong tomorrow!). But until then, I loaded a bunch of photos over on the photo page: http://ryanroth.net/photos.php.
Many of my most interesting experiences in China occur while en route to our destination. Not exhilerating or glorious, interesting. I just got off of a bus that took me us from Tankou, Anhui Province to Tanxi, Anhui Province. Just as when we traveled via bus from Hangzhou to Tankou the other day when we left the station the bus was 70% full. Mind you, these buses are made for smaller people so having a few people missing is a blessing for us tall boys when we need to stretch out our legs.
Today, we had barely turned the corner from the station when the bus stopped, popped open its doors and the bus filled up. These people clearly weren’t paying full price and some jackass was making money that the bus company wasn’t getting. Plus they were literally cramping my ride. Such an experience illustrates one of the themes that has loosely been developing as we get deeper into our trip. “Reform and Opening”, occuring circa 1980, has had all sorts of consequences – both good and bad. One that we often see is corruption. It exists, and it is out in the open. No chinese have complained about these extra stowaways, even though they had originally paid full price. Now that we’re 2/2 on this practice I wouldn’t be surprised if we see it on every bus here on out. Our original bus was 1 hour late because we dropped every one of the free riders off at their front door. 3 hours to 4 hours. Nice.
I have a habit of quickly adapting to the culture, where ever I am. In the south, at the end of day one you’ll detect a slight southern drawl when I’m speaking. Here in China, no one is shy. Yesterday on Mt. Huangshan (yes I know that is repetitive you chinese speakers) at least 100 people who snapped my photo without any sort of permission. Kids poop on the street. People step on your toes to get ahead of you in line. So today when my neighbor on the bus lit up his cigarette and smiled at me, I coughed into my hand, acted like I was choking and then leaned across him and opened his window. My other chinese neighbor laughed and then scolded him too. That is the culture here. Think about yourself first, others later, if at all. As such, he took his time but managed to blow most of the smoke out the window. He didn’t light up again.
Last night we discovered that we are in tea leaf country as we walked around Tankou last night. Tea shops littered the streets and we even had a little tea party at one. Our entire drive today was surrounded by tea bush(?) covered mountains. Simply beautiful. Horns in China are just a way of life and already we have adjusted to tuning out the noises. People honk so much that it means nothing. I didn’t realize that fully until our bus let out a constant stream of honks 500 m away from a dog in the middle of the road. The dog just casually looked at us then looked away. An elderly lady with shovel over her shoulder was standing on the yellow line across from her dog. She looked as us with an amused look on her face. She didn’t move, the dog didn’t move. Our bus slowed slightly then drove around the dog into the shoulder on our side of the road. Not one passenger glanced up. Not even Taylor, Jay, or Kristen.
Tonight at 11 pm we taking a 17 hour train ride to Guilin, Guangxi Province. Traveling has been my favorite part of this trip so far – whether by train, plane, taxi, scooter, or bus. I’ll let you know if that still stands tomorrow afternoon.
China is the perfect place to travel if you happen to be on a limited budget. We have eaten every meal at a restaurant since arriving. The average cost for Kristen and I is about 15 RMB (yuan) or $2 USD. We shop quite frequently at FamilyMart to gather things like water or snacks and so together we spend around $10 USD/day. Not bad.
Trains are pretty cheap too and that is predominantly how we have been making our big moves around the country: Fuzhou to Hangzhou, Hangzhou to Shanghai, Shanghai to Hangzhou. Once we’re in a city we commute by taxi, train, foot, or bicycle. Whatever is easiest.
Bike borrowing in Hangzhou is free. You can imagine I dig that. We had to travel down to Xi Hu (West Lake), the central tourist district where we put a deposit down on the bikes and in return were given an RFID card that allowed us to check out bikes at any station in town. It turns out there are about 50,000 bikes distributed at stations on almost every block. Borrowing is free for the first hour and then every hour after that you are charged a nominal fee. So if you cruise to your destination, check in a bike, do your thing, check out a different bike, the cost is zero.
Pedaling away on one speed crusiers – thank goodness it is flat here – is how we rocked through Hangzhou for a few days. We cruised the circumference of West Lake (3 km in diameter), commuted back and forth between our friend Drue’s house and some good eateries and did everything else that we could. Upon leaving we got our deposit back, no problemo (well, except for the language barrier which i’ll detail in another post in the future).
Hangzhou is a hell of a lot nicer than Fuzhou. There are gardens everywhere, beautiful trees, less trash, less honking, more bikes, and the town is generally less dense. 6 million people live here, but you wouldn’t know it. Traffic moves along nicely, and the building are spread out just a bit. That gives the feeling of open space even though the buildings are 15-50 stories tall. Hangzhou has pockets of greenery that surprised me. We explored along a wetlands area in the middle of the city and expansive parkland around Xi Hu.
When we first stumbled out of the clean confines of the international terminal in Taipei I was shocked by the preponderance of scooters and the seeming disregard by all vehicles for any sort of traffic rules. I may have mentioned this before – my first impressions were wrong. There are rules for the vehicles, especially the scooters, they are just different then ours back in the US.
But then we arrived in Fuzhou, Fujian, China (population: 7,000,000). Fuzhou is a site like no other. As far as I could tell the sidewalks in Fuzhou are just extra roads for which any sort of traffic can and will navigate. As we walked the avenue just outside of the main train station we started seeing some exceptions to the norm we had adjusted to in Taiwan. Scooters leapt onto the sidewalks, often heading against traffic straight at us. No big deal, they all seemed plenty competent as they honked incessantly, encouraging pedestrians to move before they ran them over. But then I saw my first car on the sidewalk and I started to consider that my personal safety might be in jeopardy. That thought was short lived however as I saw a bike roll off of the curb into oncoming traffic. To her credit, the lady kept her course on the white line in between two streams of cars that were releasing a chorus of honks. It was then that I realized that NO ONE was safe. Had I stayed any longer in Fuzhou, I have no doubts that a nervous twitch would be in my future.
Our cab ride to the south train station brought our 24 hours stint in Fuzhou to a fitting end. Our ride was twenty minutes and our cabbie had his hand on the horn for at least ten of them. He used sidewalks, curbs, shot across multiple lanes of traffic and had a feel for the road that I didn’t know was possible. But when he opened up the throttle on the empty road south of town, Jay commented, “I think I prefer the traffic”. Agreed. And the great thing about the drivers in Fuzhou – all of this is normal, no one makes funny facial expressions, when someone gets cut off they don’t yell, they expect it and they’ll do the same to you if they can.
500 km or so north east the world is more serene. With a population 1M less that Fuzhou, Hangzhou (population = 6,000,000) has the same amount of traffic but much more courtesy. They use fewer horns and have way more bikes. Yes people take advantage of any open space before them, but I have yet to see a car on the sidewalk or scooters running each other down. In fact, the driving is a bit more like Taiwan here.
That raises the question – Who cares? Right. The differences in driving are obvious differences between two Chinese cultures in relative close proximity. But what are the subtle differences and I am missing? Thousands, I’m sure. Not speaking the language puts me at a severe disadvantage for doing one of the things I love most – observing. Hell the standard way we order at a restaurant is by pointing to random chinese characters. We have never received the same thing twice. Oh well, I’m going to keep on trying. China is pretty rad, Mao and all.
