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Published: March 12th 2010
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Inauspicious
I saw this unfortunate scene on my way to the subway station. It was to set the tone for the day. Before I left my apartment last Saturday morning, my landlady stopped me so we could have our daily exchange about the weather ("Hot today, no?" "Oh yes, hot"). I told her I was going hiking. She asked me in her rapid, heavily accented Chinese, "somethingsomethingsomething towel?" (What?) I looked at her, then nodded. She repeated her question, rubbing her face. Thinking that she was talking about sunscreen, i responded loudly, "Yes, I already did that! Yes." We were both rubbing our faces and smiling. A moment passed. Still smiling, I moved toward the door. I left, wondering what on earth that was about.
I had read online earlier that day that there was some good hiking in Tucheng county, which is easily accessible by subway. I rode the subway to its terminal stop at Yongning and began walking along a particular road, as directed by the website. I wasn't sure where I was going exactly, but it was a beautiful (if muggy) day, and I was feeling totally high. I waved to children riding on the backs of bicycles, took pictures of sad fish in sluggish streams, and was generally feeling glad to be out of the classroom and back on
Farming
Seen from the roadside in Tucheng, on my way to the trailhead. the road again. After twenty minutes or so of walking along busy roads (and after witnessing a wasp slay a cricket!) I saw a road leading up into the forested hillside. Several people dressed for a hike were making their way up the road, so I followed them up. Though I was definitely not sure that this was the same hike I set out to find, at least I was surrounded by trees and gaining elevation. As I was enjoying the leaves and the solitude, I rounded a corner and saw...a haircut! Wha?? 30 meters in front of me a woman sat cloaked under a pink tarp, chatting with the woman casually cutting her hair under a tree. Behind them the path widened and was suddenly filled with people. A whole row of vendors were selling bags, trinkets, food. I made my way along past the displays, bewildered. As I climbed higher, shrines began appearing. Some monuments were large and roofed affairs with statues of the Buddha and incense, others were more modest. The path was crowded with families with small children, solo hikers like me, couples old and young, and ancient men making their way up the mountain tiny
Hillside community
The houses above the field where the man in the previous picture is working. Much better cared for than the dwellings I was to see on my hike. step by tiny step. The one thing they all had in common? They all had towels! And for good reason too. What heavy, wet heat! My head and back were drenched with sweat. Sunscreen, indeed.
With the incongruous haircut the surreality was only beginning. All afternoon I followed signs pointing me towards temples, and never found a single one. What I found instead were thousands of spiders, paths which led me onto private properties, and the same damn busy highway over and over again. At one point I encountered some sort of mountaintop race, and had to repeatedly step off the trail as man after sweaty man thundered by me.
Where were the temples? After the third or fourth time I followed a sign toward a temple only to find another intersection with another sign which advertised different destinations altogether, I finally found one that seemed like a sure thing. Shanxi Temple, it said, less than a half kilometer away in that direction! Renewed, I set off. Within a minute, however, I emerged out onto a busy highway! What's more, far from finding a misty and lonely Buddhist temple, I had instead found a banner welcoming me to "Chicken
Winding path
Green moss and a pink umbrella. Town". In a daze, I followed the road into town and found a long string of karaoke bars, garish restaurants, and stray dogs. Awed and defeated, I retreated back into the woods and tried to find my way back down.
After several dead ends and more accidental trespassings, I finally found my way back to the first path. Relieved, I was about to head down when a man heading the other way stopped me and struck up a conversation. He was, from what I understood (which was little), a lawyer for the government in Taipei. With an eagerness that confused me, he insisted that I go back up the mountain with him. It's so close, he said, very beautiful. He would be my guide. It was getting late, I had too long ago eaten my sandwich, and my patience for this bewildering mountain was about used up. But nevertheless I followed the strangely eager man up, and tried to follow along to his stories. Before too long we got to a staircase. Up there, he assured me, You'll see! He couldn't come along, he explained as he pulled out his cell phone, because he had to talk to his
Inscription with incense
There were dozens of these mini-shrines along the path. Certain hikers bowed before each one; others ignored them completely. The inscription, far as I can tell, speaks of auspiciousness and the Buddha (help with a more complete translation would be welcome!). mother (What??). I left him on the phone, and climbed the stairs. I came to the top to find...the same road from before! Baaah. I would have turned around right there, but I knew he was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I looked left, up to where I knew Chicken Town was waiting for me. Forget that. The road to the right didn't look any more promising, but I struck off anyway, grumbling. I took the first path that seemed like it led back down the mountain. The sun was getting very low in the sky and all I wanted was to be done with this silly hike.
I followed the path through fields of pink flowers to a wide and beautiful field. The air was thick with the scent of tea, and the rows of dark green bushes sat patiently and comfortably on the hillside. This place isn't so bad, I thought. And anyway, a garden is a sort of temple. With these peaceful musings, I rounded a corner and came upon a wide dirt yard full of garbage, in front of a dilapidated house. Muffled voices from inside. Private property again! And why so dirty?
Next to such a beautiful farm? What's with this place? Fed up and a little afraid, I sped back down the mountain, strange lawyers and their mothers be damned.
I was nearly to the end of the path when my friend appeared again, asking what I thought of the top. This is all like a strange joke, I thought. Though I declined his offers to buy me food and give me a ride back to the subway station on his motorcycle (what's in it for you, friendly man? Why are you so generous to this sweaty and utterly uncharming foreigner?), he accompanied me for the rest of the way down the mountain.
Finally out of the woods and in a red haze, I retraced my steps from earlier that day back to the subway (sad fish in sluggish streams). I spent the train ride home feeling angry and sorry for myself, but I got the self-pity out of my system soon enough, and with the help of a delicious dinner, a shower, and a party at my new friend Miguel's house, was feeling pretty excellent again by the end of the day.
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aj
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It's great that you can just wander around even if it is not too productive. In Cape Town, walking around the city alone will lead to many people asking you for money. There's lots of nice hiking on Table Mountain, but it's not particularly safe to go alone. "Tikheads", people addicted to crappy, impure crystal meth are known to commonly hang out in the mountains and are not the most pleasant people to meet on a trail with no one else around. Wandering alone at night is just considered foolish. I've enjoyed South Africa immensely, but I miss being able to wander. Did you ever figure out why everyone had towels?