flying cowgirl

We had an action packed Tuesday. Like everyday, we he had breakfast near the hotel/dorm we're staying in. Breakfast here isn't anything like it is back home. Half the stuff I can't quite identify and can't imagine stomaching, especially at 6:30am. My favorite parts of breakfast are the glass of warm milk and the fried bread. So after a hearty, and somewhat strange, breakfast we got on a bus and headed toward Qufu (Confucius's Temple, Grave, etc.) We arrived to find that a tour had been arranged for us.

I've never really been a fan of guided tours through ancient monuments, museums, etc. This was no exception. Our "English speaking guide" spoke to us as if she thought WE didn't speak English. She spelled out most words two or three times and was constantly repeating herself. And as if she wasn't obnoctious enough, like most people in Asia who speak just enough English, her favorite thing to shout at us was "Hello." Maybe my patience is beginning to dwindle after traveling for almost 8 weeks in countries who's primary source of income is tourism. Contrary to popular belief, Hello does not mean 'excuse me'. Hello is not a way to get my attention, nor is it something to shout as I pass by your store, booth, or cart. Hello does not mean 'follow me' or 'come this way.' Hello is a greeting... and it's supposed to be friendly. I'm so completely over Hello. End rant. Anyway, I had an okay time being herded through Confucius's Temple, though the parts I enjoyed most were sans tour guide.

We had an amazing lunch at a four start restaurant that serves us dishes that resembled the Americanized Chinese food I'm accostomed to back home. It was less salty, more familiar, and (like every meal) paid for by SUAD. We were running short on time so instead of hiking up Mount Taian, we took a gondola up to the top. Atop a beautiful mountain with abundant fresh flowing streams, there is a town built for tourists. Like most of the beautiful monuments we've visited throughout our travels, the tourist industry has inflicted unhealable wounds. People sell coffee, buttons, bracelets, pots, and anything else they think you might want. Some of the kids in our class succombed to the temptation and bought souvenirs. Sylvan and I, in protest of what tourism has done to beatiful and ancient sites, stayed away from trinkets and souvenirs. I did buy an ice cream cone only to discover that it wasn't really ice cream but some kind of banana syrup icey. It was not extremely delicious.

We had a very limited amount of time on top of the mountain but it was enough. Whether the cloud cover was thick or the smog was especially bad, the view was less than amazing and the monochrome sky and lingering haze made everything look a little grey.

That flying cowgirl is me.