Enter Night, Exit Light

[681 miles. 701 smiles] What is PEACE? PEACE is…

…this man.

…picking you up while you’re passed out on the side of a cliff with a fever because a combination of sleeping in sleet and winds in the mountains, bad baozi “dumplings” (unsanitary kitchen for truck stops; only food option I had), and perhaps altitude sickness. Driving you 11 hours, checking you into a hotel at 1AM (bc they require Chinese ID), then bringing two friends who speak English, taking you to the train station, buying you a ticket to Kashgar, giving a stack of bandaids (have infected thumb from cut after running into metal sign in front of Xinjiang museum with mummies in Urumqi; totally my klutziness). Then picking you up the next day with friends handing over a bag full of yoghurt, chocolate, Oreos, muffins, milk, and biscuits even though friend just arrived from 9 hour train ride from Urumqi at 2:30AM on a work day and paying the station worker money so they can help carry your bags onto the train. Where would I be without the help of the wonderful Chinese people?!

Adventure Anecdote

pass from Urumqi to Kuqa

I don’t ever like my camping location to be compromised so usually I wait around until there are no cars then make a dash to the spot I had already scouted out. These sprints for safety have left several tears in my tent bag and pants from getting caught on barbed wires; the price I pay for a sense of security, I guess. When I was cycling from Urumqi to Kuqa through the mountains and glaciers however, there was no waiting around until the cars and trucks ceased. It was dark and I still hadn’t found a place to pitch my tent, and the roads just kept twisting and turning up, up, and up. The phrase, “I’m at the edge of a cliff” was reality not a metaphor for me. It wasn’t about finding a good spot, but just any spot where I would’t plumet to my death turning in my sleep at this point. There was a sharp bend in the road and a mini concrete runway platform for where trucks could land if they couldn’t make the turn quick enough. Above this platform was one tree and a bunch of boulders surrounding it with barely enough flat ground for my tent. I searched the surrounding area and my only other option was in a muddy enbankment. I’ll take what I can get! Now, the only thing with this spot was that it was in the open and for some reason, there was what seemed to be a convoy of trucks and cars dispatched at 9:00PM passing through this road I was on. It’s dark now so headlight after headlight is beaming me and my bike in the face. Usually I hide behind a rock or tree but until I climbed up the bank a bit, I was naked in nature. You know when it’s dark and someone has a flashlight shined at you so they can see you but you can’t see them? Yea, I hate that feeling. Of not being able to look someone in the eyes and assess whether they’re a deranged, psycho path, rapist killer, essentially. So, I take to my cover as a man. (Decreases my chances of at least the rape part). I stand, back toward the road, pretending to pee. (A sight all too common in these neck of the woods). Usually truck drivers are the nice ones. My dad used to be a truck driver so perhaps I have a special affinity toward them. But, you can never be too careful.

my home behind an emergency landing strip and tree by a cliff for the night

The roads are narrow. One small slip up and a driver could end up anchoring their death in the river below. Naturally, each car is driving at turtle speed. It’s not like there were many vehicles, it’s just that each one took about 10 minutes to drive by and then the next one would come. So I just stood there, still “peeing”. For that 10 minutes. I mean, who pees for 10 minutes straight? Man, these drivers must think I have a UTI or something.

The traffic wouldn’t let up. Ok, this is ridiculous. I’m cold, it’s windy, and I ACTUALLY have to pee. There was a bit of a break in between the trucks so I made my dash up to the boulder.

Tent ready, bags in, and I felt pretty good at this point. Every time a car drove by, highbeams would light the inside of my tent, but the tree sort of covered me (reason why I chose the green, inconspicuous tent and not the bumble bee yellow one) and I placed my bet that the drivers were concentrating on not falling to their death instead of trying to find a solo female cyclist sleeping behind a tree in the mountains they could harass.

Just to be sure though, I climbed a few meters up and over and perched myself on a rock as I brushed my teeth to assess my camouflage level as a truck passed (2 birds with 1 rock, hehe). It was good. I felt better. I climbed back down and decided to call it a night. Curled up in a ball, in my sleeping bag, I was about to hit stage 2 of sleep when WOOSH! All of a sudden, the wind picked up and my rain fly blew away. Great! I unzipped, grabbed my tent pieces. I lined an army of rocks along the inside of my tent. That’s better. Back in the sleeping bag. Truck after truck. Headlight after headlight. As long as they keep moving, I couldn’t be bothered. And then, I heard one truck stop. Engine cut. My eyes open. Ok, it’s late, he’s probably resting here and will continue on his route tomorrow morning. As long as he doesn’t open his door to get out, the less likely he is to see my tent. And then, I hear the door creak open. Ok, he’s probably peeing. In a few minutes, I should hear the door open and close again.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi…. I have my pocket knife and mace in hand on standby. I want to peep my head out to see what’s up but I did such a gosh darn good job of securing my rain fly down from the inside with those rocks. It’s been over a minute and still no sound of the door. Time crawls by with no mercy when your instincts are on red alert. The wind picks up and all I hear is the flapping of my tent and the occasional rocks falling. I really want to check out the vehicle but even just the thought of slipping out of my sleeping bag stands my hairs on end as I can feel the icy wind already piercing through my body. Needlessly to say, I don’t want to move! Ok, well as long as I don’t hear someone climbing over boulders, I say to myself, I’m fine. And just like Metallica instructed, I sleep with one knife open.

Karakul Lake, China

Travel Thoughts

Gobi desert in Dunhuang, China

Let’s be real. I probably have 1 “scary” moment for every 1,000 “happy” moments. The truth is, most of the time when I travel, I am greeted with nothing but hospitality and friendliness (as I’m sure anyone who has traveled to more, for the lack of better words, “non-touristy” areas will tell you). In my FAQs, I mentioned that I answer “not really” when someone asks me if I’m scared traveling alone. I guess the more accurate answer is yes I do have scary moments but my curiosity and motivation to explore trumps those short term fears. And the net positive is overwhelmingly well, positive. Even when I feel fear it’s nice to observe how I am at the moment. How even the wind can add to it or how shadows can affect my mental state. And just observing and acknowledging my reactions makes me feel calm. Perhaps I can be called paranoid with all my cautiousness but at the same time of being care free on the road, I cannot be careless, in my opinion. If we think about this logically, what’s the worst that can happen to me? I think the knee jerk scenario most people think of for a female by herself in a foreign country is rape, torture and death (or some variant). I’m sure there’s some statistic out there but I’m assuming the risk of rape is higher for me, a female, than a male. Ok, so let’s break this down and think it through. Maybe I’m morbid or just too practical, but I actually have gone through these scenarios in my head. How would I react if I was raped? Or held at gunpoint? Or something else not favorable? I do not fear dying; but fear how it would affect my family. If I was raped and/or tortured and lost body parts and/or something else, I’d probably start a non-profit group to empower women who have experienced something similar. Yes, I’ve actually discussed these plans with others (real people, not just talking to myself on the bicycle 😉 ). Of course, rape is not a subject to take lightly as I have friends (male and female) who have shared with me their experiences of being raped and you never know until it happens to you but hopefully I won’t have to start this group from my own experience! And I touch on this (traveling as a solo female) a lot because it’s been in my thoughts a lot because it’s always the first (if not only) conversation I always have with people I meet on the road!

Death? It’s a part of life. I’m 100% in the school of fearing not living instead.

(Karakul Lake, China) Dressing up like a male to avoid the stares – solo female cyclists? Not so common.

That said, I do dress like a male as much as possible (see photo to the right) to avoid stares and just in case. For better and worse, you do draw a lot more attention when you obviously look like a female on the road. And most of the time, it’s just out of curiosity because it’s an uncommon sight. I also exercise mentally how I might have to defend myself physically, if ever I need to. It’s been years since I’ve trained but I have a double brown belt in karate and have practiced capoeira so I more or less know my physical capabilities. But again, most of the time, after the moment passes, I think how silly that fear is at the same time appreciating my instincts and ability to feel.

hidden mausoleum in Tashkurgan, China

Traveling solo isn’t for everyone but for me the result of getting to know myself more and the world and growing through these experiences and gaining a deeper sense of gratitude is… life and therefore, worth it. Also, wouldn’t that be great if one day we lived in a world where a female can travel solo and people’s instant reaction wasn’t “aren’t you scared?” If we lived in a world where safety and security was assumed instead of the other way around?

(Baisha Lake, China: a man-made dam) About 100km south of Kashgar on the Karakoram Highway

What is security? Personal security, safety? National security, safety? Because are these nothing more but concepts created by us, humans – male and female? I love the moments when I’m buying a banana by a street stall from an old lady and she just gives me a gold toothed crescent moon smile  after she finds out I’m traveling solo or a big thumbs up out the window from truck drivers. It gives me so much energy! To know I’m being cheered on. And that energy is a connection from one human being to another. It’s beautiful. How did fear become such a big part of our lives? How does media frame world events based on fear? How do governments use this as a tool to oppress and/or control us? Does fear sell? Is it then an offshoot, offspring or catalyst for capitalism? Is fear good or bad? Perhaps both?

People – locals, foreigners and other tourists alike – always call me “brave” or “courageous”. But I do not feel as such. I feel like I’m just being me. I feel like I’m just on my path in life. Cycling it, at this point, that is. 😉 And it’s such a WONDERFUL feeling. 🙂 I’m in Kyrgyzstan now. Just picked up my Tajik visa and will cycle into Kazakhstan today. Until next time! With smiles, K. 🙂

 

(Left and right= Tien Shan mountains outside of Urumqi, China; Center=mausoleum in Tashkurgan, China)

Tashi delek (Hello in Tibetan) from Xiahe, China

[Day 21]
626 MILES. 646 SMILES.

Only…

4,375 MILES. 4,354 SMILES… until my goal! 

What is PEACE?

Peace is… 

… blasting Chinese techno music at 7:40am because you can.

… family you met at a restaurant getting excited over comparing your US and Chinese ID/driver’s license cards and you trying to discreetly take a photo of this genuine moment.

… then refusing to accept money for the meal you ate after explaining about your Silk Peace Cycle project (but slyly slipping yuan to the daughter – must be my Asian tendencies).

… a woman running around trying to find filtered water for you because the first woman you asked ran out.

… that first woman giving you all the drinking water she had in her home when it was scorching hot outside, you ran out of water, and have been pushing your bike uphill for the past 5 hours with no stores around.

… two Chinese teenagers flagging you down on the side of a highway before they took an exit to hand you a map and say “good luck on your journey!”

… teenage Tibetan monks acting like teenagers at a cafe: laughing, drinking lassis, heads buried in smart phones.

Adventure Anecdotes
After hitchhiking with 3 cars and an incident occurring which involved having to run away sprinting across a highway (and language/cultural misunderstandings which I may explain in another post), I finally arrived in Xiahe, an ethnically Tibetan town in Gansu province, China.

Labrang monastery in Xiahe, China

Monday marks the beginning of April according to the lunar calendar and the start of Sakadawa in Tibetan Buddhism symbolizing the birth, enlightenment, and death of Buddha. Sakadawa lasts for one month. I was lucky enough to take my kora “pilgrimmage” consisting of walking around the entire monastery campus clockwise, spinning prayer wheels as you go on the first day of Kora meaning being absorbed in an eclectic crowd of Tibetan buddhists from businessmen to bums in the surrounding area. It’s only 3km so much shorter and easier than my 1,400km Shikoku Pilgrimmage!

meandering about Labrang monastery in Xiahe, Gansu province, China

The features, dress, and temperant of the Tibetans here remind me of the Quechua tribes I stayed with in the Andes in Peru 2011. The kindness shown was equally abundant like the time I got food poisoning hiking the Inca Trail and spent a week recovering in the back house of a restaurant in Urubamba, Peru. Luckily, no food poisoning this time! Speaking of which, the homemade yoghurt with yak milk (a Tibetan dish) Jinob offered me was a bit sour but scrumptious. It was serendipitous that I headed into a cafe at 10pm who’s owner, Jinob, is a self-taught English speaking Tibetan. It’s always great to receive perspectives from the locals about a medley of subjects.

great cafe in Xiahe, China – wifi + owner speaks English on on Xia he bu xin jie “walking street”. Call Jinpa for directions at 152-0940-8669

Travel Thoughts 
So many times I have been warned and reprimanded for meandering around as a solo female traveler. But as I mentioned in my previous post, I usually find exploring the world solo advantageous because people are generally hospitable toward foreigners (only based on my experience though in 40+ countries). However, that doesn’t mean I take a passive approach to a new environment. Naturally, I think if one has been on the road survival instincts kick in as you observe and process your surroundings. 

wild camping with a view in Gansu province, China

How do people carry their bags? Across their shoulders so it’s harder to snatch? Or in their hands? Does that guy ahead of me getting off his scooter lock his bike to run into the store just to grab a pack of cigarettes or doesn’t he perhaps suggesting that theft may not be so prevelant. Are kids walking around by themselves? What kind of locks do they use on their windows, store fronts? Are goods placed out in the open? If so, how attentive are the clerks being? How are people walking? What’s their body language like?

All these observations and many more I make simultaneously (and probably subconsciously) then analyze with some magic formula in my head that outputs my actions and level of awareness I need accordingly. I think that’s why the first five minutes I arrive in a new town, I feel a bit disoriented and tired expending energy to get a sense of the people and situation before I can start to “enjoy”. Though, in reality, I actually enjoy this process. 

And when hitch hiking, you have 5 seconds to scan the driver’s eyes to search for some key to determine whether he/she is, essentially, good or bad. It’s funny, because typically this is reciprocal as I can see the driver looking into my eyes too to pass judgment on me as if we’re both on trial without any sides to the bench. If I don’t get the right feeling, I tell the driver I’m going to the town I just passed, make like a fool that has to go the opposite way, and let the driver be on his/her way. If all seems okay, then I fumble with a mixture of gestures and my dictionary to convey where I’m headed. 

Of course though, there are different degrees. Nothing is ever as simple as black or white (good or bad) because one must take into account context and relative factors. And there are always an infinite amount of factors.

spinning prayer wheels as I make my loop around Labrang monastery

Fear vs being scared.

I think it’s important that if I am ever in a “scary” situation to never show fear. Contrarily, when I sense the locals are unsure about me, that’s when I show fear to make them think, “ah, she’s scared of me” which disalarms them and we can then mutually establish a basic degree of trust and safety, even if it’s just in passing. I think this is important in case something does happen, you can turn to this “ally” you made. Sometimes I create situations to create these allies especially in dodgy areas or cities such as seeming to struggle to push my bike up a ledge and that nearby person coming to help. Even that tiny action binds us together to a degree. And there have been many, many situations where I am indebted to these allies as they often act as my interlocutor with other locals such as bartering train tickets or food at street stalls so I don’t get ripped off. And say, hypothetically, a bus hits me and I need to go to the hospital, I know that person will endure through the language barrier and help me out by calling an ambulance, dealing with the communication, etc. Actually, I don’t know for sure, but I assume the percentages are higher that that person I established a connection with will help me out versus hoping some stranger will help me out, which in alot of cities, people usually mind their own business and avoid getting involved. I make this assumption based on several experiences I had in Japan. For example, once, I got off the subway in Fukuoka, and a 60-some year old man fell face flat about 200 meters in front of me – glasses cracked, nose bleeding and nobody reacted. I rushed over, asked those around if they knew him. Everyone declined with remorse on their face but nevertheless continued on their way. No one felt the need to take action, get involved, call someone. I ended up calling the ambulance. Another time, there was a similar situation outside Hakata station but a 20-some year old girl lying next to a post, high heels knocked off, tights ripped, dress top half sagging, half unconscious. Basically, it looked like she had partied too hard the night before but when I went over to see if she was okay, she rolled on the ground, started vomiting with her eyes half open, and not responding to my voice. She was not in good shape. Again, I called the police, the ambulance came and carried her out on a stretcher. An Australian tourist couple passing by commented that she looked like she had a drug overdose. How long she had been lying there? I have no idea but again, noone did anything about it. (Now, we can get into the evolution of Japanese society, phenomenas, etc. but for the sake of my point, I’m generalizing cities here). Witnessing this suggests to me that people in bigger cities tend to be less apt to help/get involved and intervene in such scenarios. Or just simply care. Perhaps with reason, because there are many crazies in the world. And, cities are always busy. I don’t intend ever to overdose on drugs or pass out in the middle of nowhere, but my point is, if I am ever in a predicament where I do need help (like when I contracted pneumonia in Myanmar and had to get rushed to the emergency room in Kuala Lumpur because I couldn’t really breathe), someone around me, an ally, will help.

tunnels, tunnels, tunnels in China

Similarly, I think this can be be compared to nation-to-nation relations in our world. I believe fear of the unknown is what drives the precursor to misunderstandings, a lack of respect and eventually conflict. And I also believe that if countries cooperate together via some form of action (like helping to push a bicycle up a ledge) then that’s when positive relationship building, trust in one another begins. Also, I think that once this relationship building begins, a realization will occur that other people and unknown cultures — ways of being — is not the real threat but rather the natural ailments is what we should all combine our forces to combat such as pandemics, natural disasters, food shortages that affect man like how pneumonia affected me. 

Physical vs psychological adventure. 

on my way to Lanzhou, China

I think when I backpacked by myself for three months throughout South America to search for my distant relatives that immigrated there from Okinawa before World War Two, that that was mainly an adventure in a traditonal sense. I WWOOFed in bolivia herding cattle, volunteered at local NGOs, rode on the roof of a speed boat down the Amazon river because they oversold tickets and ran out of seats, accidentally and literally tripped on the Peru-Bolivia border after circling Lake Titicaca in a busetta and getting lost in the desert because there were strikes in Puno, etc. This trip, on the other hand, though still an adventure, I feel is slightly different.

hitching a ride to town’s end in a man-made recycling vehicle

I crave understanding people. Establishing connections with people is what motivates me. Perhaps it is my zahir. The nature, caves, ancient sculptures, sand dunes, terraces all amaze me but nothing feeds my drive more than looking someone in the eyes and exchanging smiles from some sanctuary each person has within them as if entrusting that person with secrets from some enchanted time and place. There are times when someone’s smile has brought me tears. (Or perhaps its because they offered a bottle of water when I’m on the verge of delirium from the dehydration). But seriously, those moments are what make my life. 

I seek to unlearn. 

Tibetans on their kora “pilgrimage” during Sakadawa

I don’t know when I started doing this, but I find myself trying to psychologically integrate with the people. 

I try to become them not only in my actions like I usually do when I travel solo (eg walking like, eating like, spitting like, trying to mock the essence one gives off) but also try to become like them in my thinking. To try to empathize as much as my capacity allows. 

After chatting with some Tibetan buddhists, I re-realized that I like alot of Buddhist philosophy and have organically tried to incorporate some of the principles, such as being sensitive to others’ suffering (empathy) in my life. I am definitely not proclaiming myself a know-all on Buddhism, or that I’m Buddhist, or that I am special in any way whatsoever. Or that that is even a true principle of Buddhism and if my understanding of empathy even matches that of buddhists. (Indeed, I think most religions have different versions stemming

at Labrang monastery in Xiahe, China

from similar basic moral fundamentals. Wow, big topic which I’m sure many people have written PhD’s on). Again, my elementary thoughts are only based on personal experiences and in this case it is recent conversations I’ve had with Tibetan buddhists. But perhaps the principles that I choose to guide my life are influenced by my heritage stemming from the east.

Yet this thirst for knowledge and understanding is perhaps a result of my framework of thinking, processing from the west. To seek logical explanations for actions and therefore culture.

Perhaps I’m using my western logic to understand my innate eastern tendencies. And to what degree does nature and nurture dictate my being?

In order to understand, I must first unlearn. 

solace

This is a challenge for people, I think, because often times we are not completely cognizant of the mechanisms of how we process our environment, everything. It’s like in physics trying to explain the concept of ‘no time’ with time or ‘no gravity’ with gravity. Or teaching English as a second language to someone with their native language. 

Because we are limited by the tools we posses. And these tools we possess are learned by our respective societies. I need to unlearn with my learned tools. (Understand ‘no time’ with time).

I hope to keep learning by unlearning on the Silk Peace Cycle. 

Perhaps this is my next phase in development/life. Actually, I know it is because I am living it right now!

I am resting in Urumi now with a warmshower host and enjoying my daily showers which will soon be few and far in between as I head into Central Asia’s Mother Nature. Kashgar, the
predominantly Uyghur town, is my next stop before heading into Kyrgyzstan. Hopefully will be able to update more as China currently bans wordpress, Facebook, and Instagram. 

Peace from Xinjiang, China!
K.

Let the Cycling Begin!

It’s official. The Silk Peace Cycle is under way!  After 260km from Nagoya to Kobe, 2 days ferrying, 19 hour slow train-ing, 2.5 hours lost at 4:30AM cycling in circles trying to find my Couchsurfer’s house in Xian, I spent 4 days in the city acclimating to China again, then left at 7:00AM on Friday, 8 May heading west. Istanbul, here I come! Ok. It probably won’t be quite that easy. Though like with life, this project is more about the journey and overcoming challenges to become a better version of myself than the actual destinations. Moreover, also like in life, I hope to have fun and meet amazing people along the way. I also hope Silk Peace Cycle serves as a testament to human goodness in our world – regardless of nationalities or our cultural differences.

What is peace? With Silk Peace Cycle, I aim to highlight existing peace around us and to focus on the positive so we can expand on it.

Whether you’re a friend checking in to make sure I’m alive, wanting to follow the adventure or just happen to stumble upon this site, I hope you enjoy and gain something.

I’m in Baoji now and cycle about 510km to Lanzhou with stops in Tianshui and other smaller towns along the way starting tomorrow. My path runs along the river so I shouldn’t have to worry about water much. Until next time! K.

What is PEACE?
Peace is….

…offering an apple and hot water while your son waits downstairs for the locksmith to open your Couchsurfer’s door because you accidentally twisted the key too hard, broke it, and got it stuck inside.

…that son waiting downstairs and serving as an interpreter between you and the locksmith.

…that locksmith who had to call his co-worker to bring spare tools because it was an old style lock.

…that Couchsurfer who was chill about you breaking his key, overstaying at his place, and accidentally eating all his oreos.

…a friend of a friend meeting you by the Bell Tower to help you buy a Chinese cell phone amidst his busy class schedule.

… the sales rep communicating with you through Baidu translate app, buying the phone himself because you don’t have Chinese ID (I paid him right back, of course), helping until the store lights turned off then throwing in a free phone case.

…picking up a Japanese-American and Albanian on the side of a highway and driving them to the Terra Cotta museum.

First night wild camping in China and was caught by a farmer! But he was kind enough to let me stay. 🙂

Bicycle Chains are Important for Bicycling

I am about to cycle the Silk Road for 5 months from China to Turkey and my bike chain just broke. PERFECT. Actually, honestly, perfect. This happened 3 days after receiving my third-hand bicycle from some British guy on Craig’s List and 3 days before I depart for my ferry to Shanghai.

Let me just preface my entire journey by saying I HAVE NOT A CLUE about bicycles. The longest trip I took before this was cycling Shikoku Pilgrimage which was 1,400km in 13 days on a mamachari covered in rust that I literally salvaged on its way to the dumpster. Before that, I took two separate 100km trips and cycled 5 minutes to work which I always pushed my bike up the “hill” that was (as I’m ashamed to say but will say because I really have no shame) about not even 3 meters in distance. Yea. That said, I don’t really consider myself a “cyclist” per se but more so an “adventurista!” if you will. Exclamation point and all. 🙂

After the words “I don’t really know how to use my gears” flowed out of my mouth, my chain snapped at midnight near Shibuya, Japan. Leaving all my tools at home, all in all, using rocks, plastic packaging string, Family Mart stickers, found metal scraps on the sidewalk, and a wrench from a taxi driver, I was able to make it back to where I’m staying by cycling. What should have taken me 30 minutes took me 5 hours. But, what great practice! Now I know how to put a chain back on and see this as a good omen for the next 5 months.

Now, off to buy a sleeping mat and some other bits and pieces before I leave in 12 hours on my night bus to Nagoya where I’ll spend a night with friends and cycle 200km to Kobe.