the last 48 hours have been intense, in the best way possible (mostly). after getting back into the swing of speaking basic chinese,what do we do? promptly throw ourselves into the heart of Canton,where not only does no one speak english, but also no mandarin. we've decided that the best thing either of us brought was jorgen's Lonely Planet China travel guide, without which (we felt at the time) we might still be in Guangzhou. (yes, mom, I had more than a t-shirt to wear out with jorgen's relatives) We checked out of the "guesthouse" at Chungking Mansions early Friday morning (I didn't get stopped by a single person trying to sell me a rolex to or from the bakery by myself) and took trains to Shenzhen,which meant passing through immigration and customs into Mainland China. the tone of everything immediately changed- silent, sober (though helpful) guards are everywhere in green uniforms. government officials at desks have little "please rate my service" machines with buttons labeled "satisfactory, average, unsatisfactory", only visible to the "user", as it were. money is mechanically counted 3 times before currency exchange is possible. tiny slips of official paper were everywhere. from Shenzhen we hopped on a 2 hour bus to Guangzhou. the countryside is fascinating- rice paddies next to apartments next to factory smokestacks. we watched a Stephen Chow movie (the star of Kung Fu Hustle, an extremely tongue-in-cheek comedy) on the bus, peripherally, in between bouts of weird advertisements and travel displays. we were the only non-chinese on the bus, which was a broader trend for most of the next two days.

it's interesting- i've never truly been an alien, anywhere- i have been a stand-out tourist with a pack on my back, a gringa in mexico,an american in germany, but never anywhere were my presence was so totally unexpected that it illicited pointed stares. (if this is getting printed and distributed, i'll spare my grandparents the storyof how long it took to find the long-distance bus station, but promise we were safe and reasonably clever). in guangzhou we were deeply unexpected- foreigners do not ride the bus. (for that matter, white foreigners do not even ride the train, or if they do, they have advanced tickets and a guide to show them how to get there.) our train from Guangzhou to Guilin was overnight, and we were left with 6 hours to kill in the heart of downtown. we wandered and found a noodle house, where we set down our packs- i ordered in Mandarin and we sat happily eating at a table right in front of the noodle maker, who was fascinating to watch. we eventually went back to the bus station to wait (after the trouble we went to find the station, we were still expecting something to go wrong with the tickets and wanted plenty of time to be sure we were on the right bus out), and in the waiting room were a sight to see- some people merely double took, others looked back 4 or 5 times, other just stared openly, often for the entirety of the time we were near.

the fun part was the guy who came up to us and bemusedly asked why we were here- we wound up talking to him in chinese and english for about 10 minutes, which particularly caused a stir (they speak putonghua?!) with the purchase of some Mixed Congee in a can, and some mini sun-cake-like things, we were off to Guilin. The sleeper bus was merely large seats that leaned back halfway, but was more than adequate.

I do have to say that we stopped at one of themost desolate places I could ever imagine- a semi-abandoned restroom(cesuo), in the dark, no visible surrounds through the fog, a single trench with open walls over- the sense of rural decay hanging heavy, red plastic bags blowing in the parking lot or pasted to the group. the rural buildings are interesting- most of them look like they've been stacked together out of room-sized concrete blocks.

how can i describe the morning? chinese mountains are distinctive-bell curves, sharp graceful peaks, thoroughly blanketed in feathery green. i've taken dozens of pictures (in fact i need to change batteries to keep taking photos, now). but the sunrise- for the first time i was deeply thankful for insomniac tendencies. watching the ghostly spindles of foreign trees in the bus's headlights as they flew by- to stare out the window as the first sun soaks into the hanging mist, and realize suddenly that there are shadows outside- huge,monstrous-

as predawn brightens, these will become the gravity-defying hills of thousands of years of landscape paintings, sweeping and rolling- but in this first nearly imperceptible glow, in the wavering darkness, they belong to the poets- these are creatures- these are the tigers stretching, the birds still curled to roost, the bony necks of dragons rising, as they wake.

how do i tell you the details? the country that wakes up, in the fields, in the city. the ribbons of cloud that still hung suspended like rivers beneath the peaks in the breaking dawn (rainy and misty). the waterways that opened beneath us and closed again before i could capture the image. the yellow dogs of all sizes that the bus drivers, manic as they may be, still carefully, tenderly, avoid. the water buffalo walking up the downtown street with owner behind, the tiny strings of mini flags bearing the olympics logo in a town where no one cares, the painted butterfly carved into the mountainside. the way the old man carrying two bundles on either side of a pole looks at our bus as it passes before him. we took a cross section in 4 dimensions- time and space. the dog will continue on his path. the buffalo will plow a field. the paddies will grow and prosper, or do less well than their toiling farmers hope. the mountains will remain, to inspire a thousand more.

we got to guilin, were we took the number 3 bus all through to city to the Reed Flute Caves- as jorgen put it, "like carlsbad, but destroyed"- the formations are filled with colored lighting, many stalactites are broken, hand oil stops any new growth on anything within reach. a bit disappointed, we sat in a pavilion, where we were approached by a man offering us a ride on a zhupai (zhufa in the north- a narrow bamboo raft) for 10 yuan. the man spoke some english,and we talked in both languages happily. it was a short-ish lift back to the bus stop, but he let us take over the poling, which was a lotof fun. (in retrospect, this was probably a Tom Sawyer - whitewash situation, but we were happy with it).

we got back on the bus (despite the many attempts to usher us into a taxi). i talked to a senior couple whom we gave our seats to when they boarded- they were very nice and interested in our travels, and were patient and encouraging with our mandarin (they spoke no english).when we got back, we ate an a guilin restaurant and set out to find a boat to Yangshuo down the Li river- according to the tour book, Y325 per person even if we got the chinese language tour- including a lunch we didnt want and a ticket back to guilin that we didn't need. an hour, some random offers, and a bit of successful bartering later, we were on our way through the utterly rural backwater countryside in a Ba-se (bus- but it was a van) filled with locals with a guide who was taking us to a small motor fishing boat, which would take us to yangshuo for 160/person. after ascertaining that we weren't being conned, it was a neat trip- even during the half hour in which the bus stopped, we made friends with a couple by keeping their little girl quiet and laughing when she was starting to cry (she was really cute).

the boat was awesome- a tiny sketchy thing, but we had it to ourselves, and got to sit outside on the prow for most of the ride-way better view than anything we would have had on any of the ferries we saw. another group (containing, gasp, a white guy?!) was on a similar boat, and when we all disembarked they invited us along with them on their bus to yangshuo- a german man married to a cantonese woman, with her sister and two nephews. got to use my german. they were fantastically nice and helpful- they gave us taro root and tiny sweet potatoes- and wanted to drop us off at our hostel but the driver didn't know where it was. eventually they talked to two motorcycle taxis, who took us to the school (after accidentally taking us to a different one) for 5 yuan each. which, by the way, was terrifying- we didn't know which way to lean with heavy packs, never mind the driving. but all is well, and we'll be staying here for a few nights-english lessons on monday and tuesday. more later while i'm here, i'm sure.