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About this episode

…………………………………………………………."Cho day mo?"---(How are you doing?)---Since my job relies on voice, I've been saved by divine intervention and contracted a timely coughing flu which allowed me to escape away toward less-traveled China. The first region I'll share is the Himalayan Region of Western Sichuan and the Tibetan Kham territory but it has taken me so long write about it so here are the photos first. I hope you like the ones I picked! I've also attached a PDF surprise I think some of you will enjoy. (1.) http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AYtmzFm3cuGL3&notag=1 (2.) http://share.shutterfly.com/action/welcome?sid=8AYtmzFm3cuGMJ&notag=1 June is going smoothly. I've spent this past week at fit boutiques preparing the wardrobe for my 25th year, which in China means having assistants help put together ensembles of dresses, sunglasses, silk scarves and purses, trying on ballerina flats, espadrilles and belts. Sometimes, if you've got an extra suitcase and help, a bit of style is very fun. ………………………………………………………….In Asia, fit boutiques are specialty shops that stock only 60-200 pieces and maybe a hundred pairs of elegant heels and pretty flats and a line of handbags. There are boutiques that specialize in vintage, grunge rock, elegant, or modern styles Anyway, the pieces are imported from ateliers on a weekly basis, so many items are originals--with at most two or three replicas--and every visit there's something fresh and new. If you ever have an extended stay in Guangdong, maintain a friendly personal relationship so that when the shipment arrives, they'll save the pieces that are "so you" and in the evenings you can test them out. A tailor can also alter the hems and waistlines, or modify the refining details. The thing is, most locals are so intimidated by the European prices that they feel more comfortable at the mass-consumer retail emporiums, which incidentally, makes the foreigner you a very rare and special customer with steep bargaining leverage. But even though fit boutiques are considered upscale, if you privately ask which days are markdowns and then negotiate a preferred client discount, the beautiful items are really affordable---(roughly $2 to $5 for vintage jewelry, $10 for mesh tops and cashmere sweaters, $20 for snakeskin boots or lambskin leather handbags with hardware, and upwards of $50 for funky pieces like Anna Sui and Mischka Badgley.) In the end, the articles with finer quality are just slightly more expensive than the mass-produced bin so it's like higher-end material for H&M prices. And there's no tax anywhere, so even Puma trainers seem like a good deal. Remember: they're made here. ………………………………………………………….…On Sunday, my students threw a dinner party with a tiered chocolate cake. I'm not sure how they all knew it was my 25th birthday—虏霞, 我知道一定就是你! 还有谁会跟大家这样说?—but I do love surprises and blowing out so many candles and recollecting everybody's peasant childhood memories: how school would be their first exodus out of home, how the rickety bus would drive six hours from village to dorm, how they had to pay five cents for boiling water, each bring two rice sacks for communal meals, and how teachers would console them because they hadn't seen their parents for weeks. China was so poor in the 1990s. Then, as our stories waned they made me swallow a bowl full of noodles without one biting once, as Chinese folklore required, to symbolize longevity. I'm not sure if this damages my digestive tracts---God made teeth for a reason!---but I am sure going to remember that evening for a long time. The biggest surprise at the end, though, was that even though everybody had organized this dinner for weeks, I secretly paid for the entire event, culminating in everyone's outraged disbelief by this ingenious twist (a devious move which merited the possibility of murdering me on my own birthday for foiling their perfect surprise plan) going: " What?!" "Oh, come on! We already said that…" " You can't pay for our …" "How did you…we didn't see you leave this room!" "…VICKY!!!" ---You see? Nobody gets the dinner bill better than my family, and I learned from the quickest and the best. :-)…………………………………………………………. Contrast this civilized domesticity with a few weeks ago, when Pete and I were in Western Sichuan and the Tibetan Kham Region, where icy rain trickled down our nape, our wheezing bus died en route in the Himalayas stranding us 'til 2am, and an "experienced" Lonely Planet mountaineer-writer vanished, kidnapped by bandits. Oh, I even got into a brawl with local Tibetans. (In my defense, we had already gone through a lot of lying, cheating and attempts to ditch us in random places, and everyone on our bus sheepishly admits that the woman was asking for it when she smashed my finger and refused to apologize. There are simply people who deserve a good smack and shove, Tibetan minority or not, because for the rest of the ride no locals tried to mess around. They just grumbled that we weren't like all the other Westerner travelers—i.e. we know when NOT to get out of the car and we weren't fooled out of our money so easily.) In spite of those incidents, I still like the Southwest the best. The provinces of Gansu, Sichuan, Guizhou and Yunnan are some of the most breathtaking destinations. Diverse cultures abound with their architecture and craftwork and gargling language so that every morning it's waking up to another unfamiliar universe. As the road snakes and ascends from the humid swaths of bamboo jungles, above the cataracts and clouds, into the precipitous Himalayas, and then into yak-grazing plateau, the people abruptly change from green-tea-steeping, spicy cuisine-appreciating civilians… to elements-toughened, sun-baked pastoralists and their horse-riding women adorned with turquoise and beads. In the feudal towns, cowboys with their filthy cigarettes and thick wads of renminbi notes blend with monks, whose crimson robes infuse of sweat, incense, and pungent yak butter. This pervasive odor, harsh and pungent with smoke, is unmistakably Tibetan. …………………………………………………………. I despise and I admire Tibetans… and Western Sichuan is a better substitute than Tibet itself. On one hand, the people can be reckless and obscene, a place which lacks the polite and respectful codes of greater Asia. Tibetans are vulgar, crude and pushy sometimes. I really insist on hygiene and yet here, people rarely bathe and handle food after touching manure and…to top it off: they defecate openly in the streets. There's spitting, there's price cartels, and disreputable touts in every corner and if you're into sort of aesthetic there's also the dusty highway which becomes pot-holed roads which then become rubble paths, which makes for sore behinds and grimy hair. Along the lonely highway are weather-beaten yaks, horses, and sheep. Then there's the ever-present blinding sunlight that assualts you like a cosmic rotisserie. I want to tell them to use sunblock SPF999, but everyone's skin already looks like tough worn leather. (Nobody I have met went through this region problem-free, not even locals.) And yet Tibet's Kham Region is visually stunning, without the foreigners: any place above 4,500 meters (15,000 feet) is rugged hinterland. Imagine the wilderness of deciduous forest, sharp pungent aromas of temples, mildewed rope-and-wood bridges, and the sound of tingling silence. And I mean the absolute absence of sound. The sort of deafening, consuming silence that makes you click your tongue every few minutes to ensure that your ears are okay. After months in South China's typhoon downpour, it was really a shock to feel the snap of frost, then notice the alpine mountains laden with icy glaciers and dip my toes in the confluence of roaring rapids crashing through each frontier town. There are white log cabins with red roofs, etched stone tiles and rusting everything. Here, the summit reaches 7,000 meters (23,000 feet,)---lower than Qomolangma's Everest, but the vertical rise makes it more menacing. In fact, I wrote in my diary: " This place is truly the Wild West; grasslands so vast and incomprehensibly far away from home, a place where parents would definitely forbid any daughter, and yet I wish they could also be here to sense how insignificant and significant we all are. " Tantric Buddhism here is, uh, special. I can't describe how it feels to endure harsh stretches of road and abandoned pastureland to end up in an isolated thousand-year-old monastery with ransom quantities of gold and jewels, whose monks---when they aren't busy chanting throaty sutras in ancient script and clanging smoky bells inside the sanctuary---can converse animatedly about world politics or drench everybody with Supersoakers. But yeah. Be careful when you photograph. When you find yourself dripping wet next to the soggy high seat of the Dalai Lama because two hooligan monks jumped out from behind a pillar to nail you with a cold basin of water…and especially when they high-five each other, laughing as they scramble away…dude, this is WAR. (Some might consider this a monk's sacred way of flirting.) But anyway. I don't care if there's five thousand gods or resplendent silk scrolls in there, next time, I'm hauling water balloons to this joint. And don't think that I won't give those bastards wedgies just because they're holy spiritual monks. ………………………………………………………….… Outside of the delicate "autonomous" region, Tibetans are free to retain their traditions and customs. Unlike the austere police state in Lhasa, the monasteries are still a haunting space of mysterious smells, tasseled pillows, echoing heavy bells, the heat of thousands of candles. We removed our shoes and wandered. In Sichuan, monks are more genuinely spiritual, more welcoming, and simply more gregarious. No tedious permits, no no-photography, no costly admission prices. With reprieve from political controversy, hillside temples still emanate grandeur and dignity, and can even hold military weaponry like caliber revolvers and bayonets, compared to the destroyed and looted ones in Tibet proper. It is like going back 150 years in history. Street Tibetans, however, can be one of the more unscrupulous and hostile ethnicities you'll ever meet in China (compared to Mongolians, Uighers, Burmese, and Hmong with similar accounts from numerous other travelers who were not able to read/speak Chinese.) Right now, if there is anything worsening the endemic poverty of the Tibetan people, it is that foreigners who come sympathetic to their plight will quickly resolve to deal with the Han after nightmarish incidents of being crowded into swerving minibuses, having beggars pillage their stuff, having local bandits rob them or being ditched by their driver in some remote town, minus their belongings. No wonder people call them "barbarians." They have yet to learn that transparency and accountability are crucial in any transaction. The probable reason is: (1) Tibetans have been nomadic highlanders, without the dynasties of mercantile experience dealing foreigners. And (2) these locals submit their most educated and aspiring talent to refined religious study or otherwise send them to Beijing or Shanghai. So what remains of "average" Tibetans can devolve into incompetence or dishonesty. Because right now the Chinese definitely profit from everybody's "Free Tibet, but let's deal with Han operators so we don't get royally screwed" sentiment. Hopefully ordinary Tibetans learn to capture the tourist market for their self-interest; othewise none of the Gelupa Institute of Esoteric Budhhism, High and Lower Institute of Theology, Institute of Medicine, Institute of Astrology, or the Institute of Law is going to save their territory from being sinicized by entrepreneurs. Finally, aside from said gurus and conmen, there's also a young generation in the Himalayas, who speak both Mandarin and Tibetan. They are breakdancing guys who smoke blunts and trendy girls sporting mobiles, sunglasses and pink nails and know all about Fergie. Our road pals advised foreigners not to make their own "mushrooms;" go to these Tibetans for the psychedelic high . Gee…sounds enlightened to me. Why do these people even try to liberate themselves? Why do they even bother?…Give it up, everyone should be indoctrinated into China's new cult of mojo Marxism and take a mojito. It's moxie, baby. ………………………………………………………….The other Tibet-related news that doesn't fit anywhere above: China plans to construct a giant tram to the top of Mount Everest, an "in-yo'-face, Nature!" send off that's probably going to culminate with a Chairman Mao statue dominating the world's highest peak, flippin' the finger towards Nepal to inspire all the Maoist insurgents closing in on Katmandu . (Why… am I not surprised.) Okay fine, I exaggerate, but he's probably going to raise a communist salute with a smirk on his face that says just about the same thing. That's one thing you can count on about Chinese government. No matter how delicate and sensitive the political matter is, no matter how sacred the religious territory, you can count on the army to demolish dynasties of history, pave an ugly concrete plaza with Mao in the center, just for its passive-aggressive abusement. ………………………………………………………….And here's a trend I notice about folks: that most people make decisions based on collective cultural norms, their gut emotion, and lastly by evaluating logic. (Why spend two months paycheck on diamond rings to symbolize love?) Not everyone values intellect, and apparently would rather be stupid than look stupid or deviate. Therefore, it's not that there aren't any "win-win" solutions for social problems such as poverty, but that …for the time and thought it takes to propose a single "win-win" situation, you could probably think of five "win-neutral" and ten "win-lose" scenarios, in which you stand to gain while someone else has no consequence or actually suffers. Not everyone has the brain capacity or the willpower/desire to forfeit a conveniently selfish decision from which they could benefit right away. I fear it may be presumptuous for me to share my observations on the world, but I mean, hey let's face it, I'm 25 now so…naturally, I know everything there is to know about anything ….and it's that we live in an increasingly winner-take-all society mostly capitalized by above-average (but not particularly brilliant) minds. It's something I saw back in school competitions: the winners are always those who have already won. The rich pay the least taxes. When you don't need the money, people throw heaps of it at you. When you are hurting for cash, everyone closes their doors. Success allows you to swarm with other winners and build relationships that help you become more effective and powerful, and it's some written human law that fascinating and gifted people tend to seek other high-caliber peers that complement them. Conversely, individuals on a losing vortex lose many potential partners, hang out with other cynics who weigh them down and perhaps into a spiral of abuse and addiction. It is the poor who have to pay the highest price for everything (have you seen the interest rates in Africa?!) and are often in very depressing relationships that destroy the very sparkle that could drag them out of their vicious cycle. What I notice is, all rich families are similar and can fit in few categories. It is poverty that demonstrates true diversity in their myriad of ways. …………………………………………………………. So what can you do if you're alleviating poverty? Isn't this just a hopeless battle against the tide? Well first, is to not fall into the trap of being that wizened academic arguing about what should be done, yet disregarding all evocative emotion and sensorial dimensions, as if anybody in the Third World actually cares about our pontificating solutions. Have some nerve to get to know these people as human beings. Help people fall in love. People become passionate and are motivated by different priorities that guide their daily actions. Here's six: (1) intellectual truth and mental challenge (2) spiritual depth and religious conviction (3) cultural richness, which includes food, arts, architecture, and language (4) natural habitats and dramatic scenery, (5) the gold-rush of money and power, or (6) the vanity of beautiful-sexy-youth and hedonistic fun. Most people criticize those prioritize them differently than they do---I used to do it!---when your biggest coup would be to appeal to all of them. That's how I have changed my take on poverty---take the issue seriously but also put some snap and fun into it. Second thing to keep in mind is that since it takes money and time to be able to afford mistakes and try new ideas; poor people stick with tradition because it allows them to scrape by. New ideas are risky and fragile; they need to be incubated, mentored, and test driven in a supportive sanctuary. They rarely survive in grinding poverty or conflict zones. Innovation and design will often be domain of the rich. So we should do stuff in the creative end because that's where we've got an upper edge, and take on the big ideas. I've learned that whether you work on a project of big or small impact, the effort is the same. …………………………………………………………. Concluding, I think my Year-Of-The-Dog has been a well-lived year. I thank many of you for giving meaning to all the accumulated experiences even if it's just checking out the updates and even sharing them with your friends. Somebody asked me, " How do you decide what you do next?" and honestly I just really question myself very often: why I came this place. Supposing that I were eighty years old and my health was failing, how would I have liked to live my twenties? What bedtime stories can I leave to my grandchildren, and what will I pass on to them? A well-lived life is measured by both sacrifice and personal fulfillment, and I'm afraid our generation tends to seek happiness in a pretty selfish and mindless way. Look: real problems are gritty and tough to solve, and being part of the solution is neither glamorous nor fun. In fact, rectifying social injustices entrenched by status quo is discouraging, unrewarding---and not to mention unpaid! I'm sure Martin Luther King felt aggravated and drained, that Nelson Mandela didn't feel that prison was "his greatest calling." The thanks Abe Lincoln got was a bullet with his name on it. And yet for all they've accomplished for us, we forget all the privileges that had to be redeemed by brutal bloodshed. Dude, "the right thing" sucks; a lot of nations haven't had their Gandhis and Aung San Suu Kyis to pave change. It's useless to watch the sad news and feel bad. Do something about it!! The good thing is most places in need are not conflict zones, and… some of the smallest details are the things that make the lasting changes, starting with not being the type of American everybody thinks we are. We are de facto ambassadors that, believe it or not, can really turn around lives. Each insignificant act we perform on a daily basis accumulates to be something significant, so as vulnerably fragile one single life may be, it is also powerful. And on the plus side, once we've paid our dues and contributed toward humanity's good, then I see nothing wrong with indulging in the infinite depths of intellectual, cultural and spiritual growth. That is why no matter what challenges I face or which remote civilization I'm at, I always find time to read Popdirt so I know that Justin Timberlake is still dating Jessica Biel. (Non! C'est pas vrai? Ah, mon Deu!!!) Oh, did you hear? Paris Hilton drew a self-portrait in prison.I guess it's part of being from L.A.'s cultural-drama capital. We like to be young and superficial.Oh snaps, the silly things I say…Victoria Tai

• Release Date

  Oct 1, 2007

• Runtime