barbecue and cold beer and some sort of healthy food as well.
After three weeks cooped up in Leshan, Sean and I decided it was time
to pay a visit to Emei Mountain, one of four holy Buddhist mountains
(do all religions have holy mountains? If they don't I'm sure they
could claim a few in China). Unlike many legendary spots in China
that take days to reach by train, Emei is right next to Leshan and
accessible by an easy 30-minute bus ride.
Though the route up Emei is a careful track of stone steps, it is a
little more significant than other places I've been in China, nay, the
world. The peak of Emei is way up in the clouds, and at 3077m is high
enough to cause altitude sickness issues. To trek from the bottom to
top is a 50km walk with an elevation gain of 2500m which is about the
same as walking from Toronto to Burlington while climbing 5 CN Towers.
I was doing the math for 10cm steps and 2500m elevation and that gave
me 25,000 steps and at that point I stopped doing the math. We were
trying to do all of it, save the last two hours, in one day. And in
the rain.
It began Friday afternoon. Just before my last class I returned to
our office, where Sean had been waiting during a free period. I tried
to open the door but it was locked, even when I used my key. I
shouted obscenities through the glass window as Sean walked over to
open the door from the other side. To our suprise, the door would not
open for him either. At this point I threw my hands up in a "Sucks to
be you" gesture since I was not trapped in the office, unable to
teach. We called our supervisor who sent his assistant, a nice enough
girl but, sorry to say, as dumb as a stump. She arrived, tried the
doorknob, and concluded "It's locked". Thanks Cherrie. Eventually I
coaxed Sean to climb up through a window near the ceiling. He jumped
down with a loud thud, amusing the passing students. I mention the
story because history repeated itself the next morning at 6am when our
hostel owner couldn't figure out why the U-bolt locking the front door
was on the outside of the doors (and inaccesible from the inside).
Was Buddha trying to tell us something?
Emei is famous for many things, and one of them is monkeys. Troups of
Tibetan macaques inhabits many areas of the mountain. Accustomed to
worrying about wolves and bears back home, I didn't really read the
monkey information in the guidebook. Or the warning signs as we went
up the mountain. As we started up a narrow river gorge toward "Joking
Monkey Zone" we passed plush monkey souvenir stalls, benches and
handrails adorned with monkey busts, facilities to safely check your
bags, and many more warning signs. We attributed it all to Chinese
exagerration and figured we wouldn't even see a monkey. If only that
had been true.
There was a little group of people gathered at a swinging wooden
bridge that seemed to be the start of monkey territory. I dashed past
them without much hesitation and crossed the bridge. I spied a monkey
to my left. Cool! Well this is a story, we saw monkeys after all! A
big guy was in the middle of the path, so I banged my stick on the
ground to make noise and veered to the left, expecting him to cede the
trail to me. Not the case. The monkey looked at me and bared his
teeth and then I suddenly realized how big monkeys are. Then the
monkey rose up on its hind feet and started to grab at my backpack and
pockets and he was not happy. If you could have seen the look on my
face it would have probably been priceless terror. And I ran. I ran
to a little pavilion with a cluster of Chinese ladies who seemed to
have experience with monkeys. From this place of safety I laughed at
the whole situation. It wasn't until this determined monkey bounded
past my shield of ladies that I realized this might have been a
mistake. Suddenly there seemed to be a lot of unpredictable monkeys
everywhere, so I began a retreat across the swinging bridge. The only
other visitors, two young Chinese girls, were equally terrified but
were not moving fast enough. Some monkey started chasing me and I
pushed past on the bridge, not quite shoving the girls aside but
pretty much casting "women and children first" out the window.
After that we kept our distance from the Joking Monkey Zone, following
a trail on the other side of the river. We had three further monkey
encounters over the course of the day. My favourite was when Sean,
who had lived in India for a time and was no stranger to agressive
apes, interrupted my light-hearted babbling and said nervously "Just
keep walking don't stop". Apparently a huge monkey was beside the
trail and was growling.
Besides monkeys, the hike is pretty epic. The route climbed past
villages and up river valleys and beneath towering waterfalls and onto
high plateaus. There were some immense staircases, and pictures don't
really capture the feeling you get when you see stairs literally
climbing up into the clouds. There were a few little shops here and
there manned by people who live in the hills, but other than that it's
just you and Sean and the mountain and your new Dutch and Danish
hiking friends. One lady has become something of a legend as she
makes superb pancakes. It's a little known fact that a long-term
traveller in China will pay just about anything for pancakes.
Did I mention the rain? Oh yes, the rain. From the moment we stepped
out of the taxi to the moment we got on a bus home, it was raining.
The progression of everything getting wet - first my sweater, then
boots, camera, and eventually even the waterproof pockets of my jacket
- did wear down morale. Our views of surrounding hills became
obscured by clouds. Mist shrouded the Buddhist temples we passed,
raindrops falling loudly in empty courtyards eerily devoid of
visitors. Everything had a cool atmospheric, Resident Evil kind of
appearance. As the entire trek was nearly devoid of Chinese tourists,
I would gladly go back in the rain.
On Sunday morning I woke up at 4am, donned wet boots, and made the
final two-hour hike to the summit in foggy darkness, on high alert for
monkey attacks. The final staircase was flanked by elephant statues,
silent sentinels heralding the approach to the top of a holy mountain.
Out of the mist finally appeared the immense golden four-sided statue
that Emei is known for. I had reached the top in time for sunrise,
another Emei favourite, even though the clouds meant there would be no
sun. I marvelled at the most opulent Buddhist temple I had ever seen.
And then it was time to descend: by bus (Chinese people don't like
hiking holy mountains).
We arrived home to the nicest day we've had in Leshan, a far cry from
the cold and rain just an hour to the west. We found a new steak
place which was incredible and also had a life changing salad bar. It
was right next to the Apple Store. The discoveries in Leshan
continue.
This week my legs are reluctant to climb stairs. We are doing oral
exams with some of our classes which I expected to be a breeze but
thus far I am finding it difficult to be objective and consistent.
This is a surprisingly unenjoyable part of teaching, especially when
you're a big softie like me! With my other classes I'm still teaching
food, along with a word game that is basically the drinking game Kings
without the drinking. And they love it, which suggests that maybe
drinking games are the key to teaching ESL.
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