The Locks

Before we head to the locks, one of the ladies at our breakfast table says she heard the ship refueling last night. She is down one level from us, and slightly forward. So remember, the lower you are to the bottom of the boat, the more likely you are to hear such noises. I had heard them only slightly, but didn't know what caused them.
But breakfast is normal on this ship. Although, that little green thing all tied up with string and the dumpling are Chinese. And no, I didn't know what was in them.

 
After, we head into the locks. It's getting dark, but there are plenty of floodlights. The locks are so long, two cruise ships can sit end to end, and we watch the doors behind us close. Each lock takes about 45 minutes to complete, with about 8 minutes for each set of doors to either open or close. It takes about 30 minutes for the lock to fill with water. Amazingly fast. We're parked so close to the side of the lock, I can reach out from the top deck and touch it. But with five locks through which to pass, it's late before we're free of them. The locks are also free to use. No cost. A benefit of a communist government, I imagine. 

  
Having lived near locks in Ontario, I thought I would not be impressed by these, but they are fascinating by the sheer size.
The Three Gorges scenery continues to be beautiful. I finally get a good shot of our boat. 

With such high cliffs, there is less air pollution. No factories here. 

I can't help but notice the river. It may be once been littered with debris caused by the head pond that the dam created, but I am stunned by the litter that can't be from abandoned homes. Bottles and chunks of Styrofoam sail by, and I see a cook on a barge we pass dump some slop into the water. Our guide joked that if we fell overboard, he'd pick us up in Shanghai, but I suspect we'd die from the pollution before then, even though I see people washing at the river's edge. 
Tomorrow we take another smaller trip up one of the lesser gorges. Don't let the word lesser fool you.

Olympic Village and other sights around Beijing

Like yesterday's post, this one was put into the draft section, also. So to remedy this, let's take one last look at Beijing. It's a pretty amazing site. 

Beijing had wanted to put its best foot forward to the world for the Olympics. And even after. It's a city filled with both the west and the east. After a supper that had included the Peking Duck, which I described in a 
previous post, we drove down to the Olympic Village. 
On the way to supper, while still daylight, we passed it. 

This is the National Stadium, or Bird's Nest, as our guide called it.

As we exited supper, we looked up and this is what we saw. This is the Olympic Park Observation Tower. Like most buildings in the park, their lights change colour. It's not opened yet, but our guide said it looked like nails. I say it looks like intake valves from an internal combustion engine, but that's the mechanic in me coming out. Look carefully at the photo above and below, and you can see blue streaks in the air. They are lighted kites flying really high. They were amazing and my photos don't do them justice. That's one thing I've started to notice - the architecture here in China. 

Night comes early this time of year, which is good because the sights of the village are well lit and beautiful. I was exhausted, and running on no sleep for the last three days. Jet Lag had done me in, so I was thankful it was still early when we stopped at a busy street and pedestrian overpass on which to view the village. And as like anywhere in China, there are the crowds. 
This is the Aquatic Centre with the Bird's Nest in the background. It cycles through various colours, and is made of giant pillow like bubbles along a steel frame. While it looks like a mattress to me, it's meant to look like water cube. Regardless of what we see, it's a brilliant design.

Even though I am so exhausted, and I feel like I am losing my sanity, I am in awe. The night is warm, the buildings brilliant, and the crowds appreciative. I know I need sleep more, but I can't help but stare. Even across the street the building's top looks like the Olympic Torch. It's the Pangu Plaza. Again, some say it's a fire-breathing dragon, but I say it's a torch in the wind. I guess architecture is more like art, in the beholder's eye.

And speaking of eyes, tomorrow we get a bird's eye view of a structure some say can be seen from space. We discover the truth.

Old Beijing and its opera

Allow me to jump back in time for a moment. I seem to have missed posting this page. This was while we were in Beijing.
Enjoy! And forgive the switch around.

As in any city, there is an old quarter of Beijing, and we were given an opportunity to visit it. By rickshaw. 

Tiny houses, crowded so close they seemed to be one continuous building, old Beijing, called Hutong, was fascinatingly beautiful. We met a young woman who'd married one of its residents, and moved there. It was an odd little meeting, a lesson in how the culture of this mysterious country was so different.
She told us bluntly that she didn't love her husband. Nor did she even like him, but her parents had arranged the marriage and she would respect their decision because her parents would be cared for as a result of the union. 
The whole meeting felt staged, but like the tiny, ancient homes around us, it felt as though we'd stepped back in time. 
We visited another woman's home, only to discover that these nationally protected homes were bigger than we first thought. Our guide said they share public bathrooms, as they are not allowed to have private ones, but I noticed a toilet tucked away in back and wonder at the contradiction. Still, she entertained us with a lovely piece on her qin.

Too soon, we were gone from there and headed to the Beijing Opera, a performance that was snippets from three folk stories I found too hard to follow. The long days and the jet lag competed with the artistry that was the actors' preparation. The jet lag won out. I nodded off, but not before admiring the final work.

That done, I welcomed the return to our hotel. For tomorrow will bring one of the highlights of the tour.

Two sides of the same coin

We took the opportunity to rest after a visit to the Water Village, and before our next excursion. Although the cruise appears to be relaxing, there are still things to see. We disembarked through a line of crew who were perpetually telling us to watch our step. Then once on dry land, we're bombarded by hawkers. 

"Don't make eye contact," our guide warns us, but it's not that easy and it can be dangerous, as I learn later in the trip. 
But pressing through the market filled with everything from cold beer to Chairman Mao hats, with food so bizarre they turn your stomach. But we press through to the buses. My husband stops to buy a tee shirt. It always seems we must pass markets before we reach our bus. 

We're on our way to the Three Gorges Dam. 

Wikipedia says:
As well as producing electricity, the dam is intended to increase the Yangtze River's shipping capacity and reduce the potential for floods downstream by providing flood storage space. The Chinese government regards the project as a historic engineering, social and economic success,^[12] with the design of state-of-the-art large turbines,^[13] and a move toward limiting greenhouse gas emissions.^[14] However, the dam flooded archaeological and cultural sites and displaced some 1.3 million people, and is causing significant ecological changes, including an increased risk of landslides.^[15] The dam has been a controversial topic both domestically and abroad.^[16]

We're told by our new guide that it's only supplying 3% of the country's power. She shows us a big map and talks about the 1.3 million who were displaced to save many more downstream. 
My friend whispers in my ear, "It's been touted as the worst ecological disaster in human history. Think of all those who have lost everything." 
I do. I think of the buildings below the water level, and the historical evidence lost. 
But wait. Important stuff would be protected, wouldn't it? We learn later that some have been.

The guide continues to speak, "I know many of you are thinking how awful it is, but it's saved farmland and people from flooding, too."

My friend whispers, "Do you think she's just singing the party song?"
Probably. But then the guide says, "It's two sides of the same coin. Saving one thing at the cost of another."

I don't know what to think. It's a marvel of engineering. It stops flooding, but at a heavy cost. It was built by a government that goes against all western ideals. In a country that still pollutes the air with coal fired plants and too many cars. Yes, there is a heavy cost. But it saves farmland and people. It gave jobs to many. It allows us and millions of others to travel upstream by way of its locks. It's amazing to see. From an engineering point of view, it's fantastic. And I have to ask myself how we in North America can condemn it. Can we? Should we? Look at how we treat some people. How our  hydro electric dams have displaced people. Is it okay to displace a few, but not 1.3 million? I don't know.

I take a break from the heavy thoughts to share a cute moment with my husband, captured by the ship's photographer. 

Still, our visit is amazing. We go up outdoor escalators several hundred feet. We have a view like no other, both of the dam and the locks. And tonight, we'll enter that set of locks that could easily be the most massive set of locks in the world. But that's for another day.

The Water Village

The morning came early for me, which is just as well as I didn't set my alarm correctly. But my husband makes coffee for us and we sit outside before breakfast and enjoy the scenery. It's starting to clear, thankfully, and I look ahead to the day. 
We have entered the first gorge and the ship blew its horn. The echo was stunning. High, mist-shrouded cliffs, sheer bluffs of bared limestone choked in spots by thick vegetation. We see high up homes almost Germanic in design, clinging to the sides. And below, barges chug by. After breakfast, we stopped at a very Chinese appearing port, with a traditional pagoda-like home high above. I see birds of prey cruising the updrafts.
 

 

The water has turned from yellow to green but it's not raining. 

We stop at The Water Village, up the Longjin River, a tiny village of one of the many minorities. 
But we are warned that even if you leave the ship with no intentions of visiting the Water Village, you will be charged the fee anyway. It seems unfair, and I wonder why they don't issue you a different lanyard, because each time you disembark, you must wear your room's lanyard. 

It reminds me of when we saw the minorities dancing at a park in Beijing. They seem not-so-typically Chinese. Those ones had a Middle Eastern flair, and this village feels almost Tibetan.
We have been told to wear comfortable shoes because we'll be walking, but some chose an easier route. Well, easier for the one man.  

 

The hike takes us over huge square blocks set at the mouth of a small river that feeds the Yangtze. I help an older woman across. 

 

Here, we're treated to a sample of their courting practices. Girls sit in small Chinese junks while boys, dressed in blue, serenade them with flutes.

 

Or if they know each other better, they can get even closer.

Our guide, a tiny woman with a woven basket for a backpack tells us how the nubile girls dress in bright colours, and once married, return to drabber clothing. 

It's quite a hike up the tributary, but we're rewarded with stunning scenery, rich turquoise waters and lush bamboo forests. 

Monkeys greet us halfway up, and at the top, a beautiful waterfall.

Our guide, Tom, feeding a monkey

High above are small caves and in them, coffins, for these people believe the higher you are buried, the closer you are to heaven. 

Can you see the coffins?

 

We enjoy a mock marriage ceremony, before returning to the ship. 

This trip was the only optional excursion, but worth the money for the scenery alone. We've often seen black and white watercolour drawings of high cliffs and rich bamboo. I have seen their inspiration. 

We pass a market of exotic foods and I ask a young man if I can snap his photo as he tries a fish.

Our main guide, Tom, had warned us it's impossible to get a cell signal, but one man who had a data plan was able to get a good one in the narrow gorge and sent photos home with it. 
One the way back to the ship, I take a photo of a Chinese junk and modern barge. A mix of the old and the new. 

 

It's been a full morning, but this afternoon, it's gets even more dramatic. Come back tomorrow for the greatest man made achievement... or the greatest ecological disaster in the world. You decide.