TheBanyanTree: Transition 21

[Pat M]

          My flight arrived in Sanya just before midnight on January
29th. After
claiming my baggage, I was happy to see a Chinese man waving a placard with
my name on it at the exit.  I'd arranged with Blue Sky Youth Hostel where
I'd be staying for a week to have a taxi meet me on arrival and all evening
had been sending text message updates on my flight status which, on arrival
at the airport, had been delayed even further. Extreme winter weather was
causing havoc in southern China and many flights had been either cancelled
or delayed.

The Blue Sky Youth Hostel is located on a quiet side street in Dadonghai,
one of the main tourist areas of the city. I was given a small, basic room
on the third floor and was pleased that it was quiet. From my small balcony,
I could see the South China Sea between the villas and hotels.

What I seemed to need most that first week was sleep and whenever I felt
tired, I listened to my body and took a nap. Because I'd be living in Sanya
for almost four months I didn't feel in a hurry to explore.

The staff at the youth hostel was friendly and helpful. They told me about a
nearby restaurant called "The Rainbow" that serves western food. After
months of eating unfamiliar and often unappetizing food, I relished every
meal at the Rainbow. The meals were expensive by Chinese standards, but for
me, they were reasonable compared to what I'd pay for them in Canada. What a
treat to eat familiar, delicious food! I'd lost weight in Lintong so
indulged myself without worrying about calories.

My first day, the weather was beautiful--sunny and comfortably hot. I
strolled to the beach a short distance away and sat on a patio deck that
overlooked the shore. Two days earlier I'd been living in sub-zero
temperatures and was chilled to the bone; now, I could wear sleeveless tops,
capris and sandals, and sunscreen was a must. A gentle breeze ruffled the
palm trees and kissed my face. Drinking coconut juice through a straw
straight from the coconut was the order of the day.

            One evening when I returned to the hostel, the manager, Peter,
(a friendly Chinese man in his thirties) asked me if I wanted to try 'the
local drug'.

            Surprised, I said, "No thank you." I wasn't sure if he was
joking or serious.

            He opened his hand and showed me some nuts.

            "Betel nuts," he said.  "Many people here chew them. They make
you feel good."

            "I already feel good," I said with a smile and continued
upstairs. Behind me, I heard one of the backpackers in the lobby say, "I'll
try it."

            In China, many men spit; it really is disgusting. In Sanya,
there's an added element. Many suck betel for the mild 'buzz' it provides
(it's a stimulant) and spit out copious amounts of brick red juice. Like
chewing tobacco, betel is inserted between the cheek and gum and left there
to soak, sometimes for hours. What betel chewers put in their mouths is
actually a combination of three ingredients: areca nut (the seed of the
tall, slender areca palm tree) wrapped in betel leaf (from a tree-climbing
vine of the pepper family) with mineral lime (typically made from kiln-baked
seashells). The three elements are needed for the desired effect. It's
legal, addictive, and readily available from street vendors. But during my
first days in Sanya, I'd never heard of it and wondered about the many large
rust-colored stains on the sidewalks.

             If you're a seafood fan, don't miss Sanya. Most restaurants in
Dadonghai have rows of aquariums either inside or on the street. Patrons
choose the sea creatures they want to eat, and the chef kills and cooks
them. I've never seen so many unfamiliar varieties.

I was surprised to see that hotels and restaurants in Dadonghai have their
signage in two languages--Chinese and another, at first, unidentifiable to
me. I puzzled over the characters and later discovered that it's Russian.
Sanya is a port-of-call for Russian cruise ships. In Dadonghai, it is fairly
common to see fair-haired foreigners and the locals seem to think all of
them are Russians. Here, many shopkeepers know some basic Russian words but
no English.

            While drinking tea in the hostel lobby one day, I met a British
woman around my age named Pauline. She, too, is an English teacher and had
come to Sanya for the Chinese New Year's holiday. We got to talking.

            "Have you had a massage here yet?" she asked.

            "No," I replied. "Why?"

            "Well, you can get a full hour's massage for less than $3.00."

            "Count me in," I said.

            The following morning Pauline showed me where to catch the bus
to Jiefang Lu, the main street. We explored many outdoor markets and
hole-in-the-wall shops. There were mountains of tropical fruit for sale:
pineapples, mangos, papayas, dragon fruit, watermelons, guavas, lychees and
numerous others I've now come to know as rambuton, darian, jack fruit and
wax apples.  It was hard to resist buying some, but I'd be spending the day
walking around and it wasn't the right time.
I was on the hunt for a coffee pot so that I could make 'real' coffee, but
couldn't find one. Eventually I found a small glass teapot with a fine-mesh
strainer that 'might' work so spent fifteen yuan (just over $2) on it. In
Canadian terms, that's nothing, but months ago I had stopped thinking in
Canadian price terms. People here argue to save one yuan (fourteen cents.)
In Lintong, I'd been able to save a few thousand dollars but I knew that
Sanya would be different. I wasn't sure if my earnings would even cover my
living expenses but I'd known that in advance and accepted it in order to
live somewhere warm.

Pauline also showed me one of the large supermarkets. In China, all the
stores have an abundance of clerks. They followed Pauline and I around and
tried to guess what we wanted. They took products from the shelves for us to
look at and spoke to us even though our blank faces must have told them we
didn't understand. It was annoying but neither of us had the language skills
to say, "I just want to look. I'll call you if I need you." All we could do
was ignore them.

Pauline showed me a good restaurant called Coffee Diary with the menu in
both Chinese and English, and we enjoyed a delicious lunch there. Then we
walked several blocks to the massage place.

We were shown into a small room where we were given loose pajamas to wear.
Our tables were side-by-side. Two beautiful young Chinese girls entered the
room.
The massage was unlike any I'd ever had in Canada or Guatemala. There was
nothing gentle or relaxing about it, and it ended with our masseuses
climbing on the massage tables using their legs and arms to manipulate our
bodies into stretches that made me gasp and fear I was going to end up
injured.
I really enjoyed my time with Pauline. It was a pleasure to be 'understood'
and be able to speak English freely without speaking slowly and limiting my
vocabulary. We spent a couple of days together, but my move to the school's
apartment on February 6th, the day before Chinese New Years, was soon
imminent.

-- 
My Blog:  http://mysouldancesinchina.blogspot.com/

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