Since Graham left off at the Bedouin camp we have seen, heard, smelled and experienced many more new things.
After leaving the camp, we as a group rode on the bus to the small village of Dana where we were to begin our adventure on the Jordan trail.
The Jordan trail goes from Dana down into Petra, and we as a group were extremely fortunate to spend three days hiking on this trail. The first day of hiking was mostly down hill into Feynon, where we spent the night at a beautiful vegetarian eco-lodge which had a pasta dish that changed my life. Day two of hiking was mostly flat and took us through little Petra and to the Seven Wonders Bedouin camp, where we stayed for the night. Our third day of hiking took us through some of Petra itself allowing us to see Petra’s monastery, gorgeous ravines and many, many goats. Continue reading →
From our first week in Xela, Guatemala and Tapachula, Mexico where we learned about migration throughout Central America into Mexico.
Response to the Border
From the moment we all walked up the steps that over looked the border, I was rendered speechless. I saw sand and graffiti on the buildings and walls and my interest was piqued. As we walked along the wide path into the local community, I noticed people staring at our small group of diverse students. Some of the people in the local community blatantly walked up to members of our group and asked for things such as money or the technology that we had on us, and from that moment forward I had my guard up. As we walked further into the community, I kept noticing the locals checking us and I wondered what ran through their heads and what their impressions of us “Americans” were.
Another thing I noticed was our tour guide (journalist from Mexico who covers the border) checking his surroundings and checking on his camera and personal items. I wondered what it must be like for him, showing us foreigners around the border as people were crossing along the river. I noticed people within our own group getting antsy and wanting to leave. Being there at the border made me think about the hundreds of people that have crossed it or tried to cross it, and in that moment I felt sad for the people who have no choice but to leave their homes and country. I feel anger at the fact that people have to live like this and at the governments/countries at fault.
One of the last things I remember from the border is seeing a woman crossing the river that borders Mexico and Guatemala. It made me think of the stories my mother told me of her time growing up in South Sudan, walking miles along dirt roads with a bucket of water on her head. I thought how different my life could have been. As we parted ways with the journalist I thanked him for being vulnerable enough to show us the border and to be seen with us, regardless of what it might look like to the locals and what their thoughts of him were. His response to me was he feels like “it is his job to show people around the world what is going on in his country, in hope of spreading the word so that people who need it can get help.”
-Rebecca Yugga
Today we visited the border, near the city of Tapachula. Last night when we crossed into Mexico, it was dark, so we couldn’t actually see anything other than the official border crossing.
In the daylight, the stark contrast between the official, legal crossing and the unofficial crossing became much more apparent. At the official crossing, all our bags were checked twice, once for fruits and once for guns. We had to fill out cards with personal information, and we would be fined upon exit if we didn’t have a part of them (the cards). We had to wait in line for 30 minutes to get a stamp in our passports. At an unofficial crossing, it is possible to wade across the river in 15 minutes, or pay a raft 10 Quetzales for a trip across. Even more striking, however was the approximately equal police presence at the legal and the illegal police crossing. The police officer checking my bag for guns could have been strolling down the beach the next day, watching thousands of dollars of goods and hundreds of people cross the river.
It is certainly frustrating watching the governments’ indifference. We were searched twice waited more than an hour total, when we could have crossed the river on a raft like thousands of other people who don’t have the privilege of a powerful passport. To be clear, I’m not complaining about the small inconvenience my group experienced, but rather the arbitrariness of the border and how it is used to stratify people into those with enough money, power, or the right birthplace, and those who have none of those. And the authorities couldn’t care less?
I would cross the border on a raft to send a message. Not that the unofficial crossings should be shut down, but that the official border crossings should be shut down. They serve no purpose other than delegitimizing the economic necessity (of crossing the border daily) for thousands of people, Guatemalans and Mexicans alike.
Since the end of the last blog post by my friend Silas, we’ve explored Egypt further. Since Anafora, we’ve spent a lot of time traveling out and about, flying from Cairo to Luxor and spending two days there with picturesque scenery along the Nile visible right from our hotel room windows and rooftop. Our guide, Samer, took us to explore several historical locations around Luxor – Karnak Temple, Luxor Temple, the Valley of Kings, and the local bazaar, to name a few.
After flying back to Cairo, we also had the opportunity to travel (once again, led by Samer) down to St. Catherine’s Monastery at the foot of Mount Sinai, some several hours’ bus drive where we crossed the Suez Canal into the Sinai peninsula (and from Africa to Asia). Touring the museum there was a fascinating experience, as well – many Christian icons, fine artwork, and old books, all of which were several centuries old, a few well over a thousand years old, which highlights the deep and rich history of the monastery in addition to Christianity itself.
One of the highlights of this week (and the trip to date) was our climb up Mount Sinai on the 23rd; not quite just a walk in the park, with a trail about 2.5 miles long with 750 steps at the end to the peak. It covers a total elevation change of 2,200 feet (with the peak itself being roughly 2.2km, or 7,500 feet, above sea level), but the sunset view at the peak was well worth the hike, in addition to Linford going on at length with several excellent words on Exodus (our assigned Bible reading at the time) and our hiking experience.
The day after our climb up Mount Sinai was a much more relaxed day (in the morning at least) where we drove from St. Catherine to Taba, a small town on the Egyptian side of the Egypt-Israel border, to cross through the very southern tip of Israel over to Aqaba on the Jordanian side, where we stayed the night. Clearing border security in Israel was a very time-consuming affair, but eventually we got across to Jordan, where we ended up waiting some more for our guides and bus. Continue reading →
On the road yet again. We’re in the highlands, the north. As we climb higher, the trees begin to look like home. Everything else is different, but the rolling hills, the mountains, and the pine trees echo home. There is not ten feet of straight road. The car wash signs on the side of the road are inexplicable in English. I see Mayan women in traditional dress walking with young children. There is graffiti on the cliff sides, worn away, but still present. We pass old school buses traveling up the mountains and they pass us back traveling down.
There is almost no piece of land that is not in use. Even the steep slopes are marked by the lines where corn and other foods meet. Groups of bikers brave the long climb punctuated at either end by cars or motorcycles for protection. From here the cities look like toy villages, the kind I used to play with as a child. Still there are signs and billboards that break my enchantment, gas prices and tire repairs, fast food and pain relievers, mattresses and resorts, reminds of everything human everything broken and beautiful, pass us by on the road to the border.
A successful day of travel from EMU was finished with fruit and sandwiches around 10 pm. The next morning we awoke to cool air and hot sunshine. Recorded below are our first, short impressions of Guatemala and CASAS from that first morning.
Akiel: beautiful scenery
Rebecca: I was like “wow”.
Ruth: This place is so beautiful and there’s so much to take in.
Skyy: The night was scary and dark, but the morning is beautiful.
Liz: I just can’t find the words.
Jamie: There are diverse plants here.
Olivia: I feel a closeness with the space that I can’t describe
Lori: I feel back to myself, a whimsical feeling in this open air. Also I love all the succulents.
Kellie: Guatemala is similar to Costa Rica in its life, animals, and people.
Austin: When we arrived last night I noticed how everyone here felt really relaxed, but all the buildings have barbed wire on them.
Theo: I LOVE it. This place is so obviously different and it makes me excited to be here.
Andrew: Its pretty. There’s lots of Spanish and I don’t understand it.
Maya: The courtyard is cared for, but also so free. At night the streets are quiet.
Has it really only been a week? That’s the question that comes to mind as I write these words in Anaphora, a compound about an hour’s drive from Cairo. It’s a beautifully serene place that offers us time and space to unwind and reflect.
Yes, only a week. Driving away from the farewell crowd at University Commons seems so long ago. After 20 hours of travel, half of which were spent in airports, we were greeted in the capital by our guide Samer (Sah-mair), who welcomed us with oranges, bananas, juice boxes, and flowers (for the ladies). Fortunately, it was nearly 9 PM Egypt time, so we were able to sleep soon after. Jet lag was hardly an issue.
Samer has since led us all over Cairo and Giza, holding his scepter topped with an ankh, the symbol for life, high in the air. In the morning, we saw the Great Pyramids, checking the only surviving Wonder of the Ancient World off of our list. These tombs held the global record for tallest man-made structure for nearly four thousand years, and the engineering plus sheer manpower it would have taken to achieve the stacking of rocks – each weighing multiple tons – is pretty flabbergasting. Our group took in their epochal presence, as well as that of the Sphinx, and moved on to visit a papyrus art gallery, a carpet making school, and a handful of other ruins that are rich in history, yet often overshadowed by the Pyramids.
To be honest, I just needed to satisfy the cross-cultural requirement. I’m a transfer student, so I didn’t have a lot of options. I decided to sign up at the last minute when my advisor (Mark Sawin) told me it would be a great adventure, and I would come back a changed man.
Since you are a commuter student, what was it like to be thrown into such close encounters with our Cross-Cultural group for over three months?
Most of our CC group early into our trip at one of many temples we would visit
Even though I had been at EMU for a year, I didn’t have any EMU friends outside of class. I work a lot in my family business, and I’ve always lived at home. I didn’t know any of the other students in our group when we left for the airport. But I soon learned to know everyone. I gained some really good friends by coming on this trip.
What surprised you about living in China?
My host brother Robert and I at the top of a drum tower in the ancient city of Langzhong, Sichuan Province
I didn’t know anything about China before the trip. I expected things to be super difficult. I thought our housing and transportation would be more primitive. I didn’t know we would be traveling on modern high speed trains that could go over 300 kilometers per hour and living in brand new apartments that were nicer than my brother’s housing at JMU.
Tell me about the relationships you formed in China.
My friend M and I posing for a photo specifically for his WeChat “Moments” social media post
I thought going to my host family would be awkward, but they were really great. My host brother was eight and was fun to hang out with. He liked to play Mario Cart. I made a couple of good friends who were students at our university. I met “M” at an English major meeting. We played ping pong and basketball together, ate out, walked around and talked about stuff. Once our group was traveling far from Nanchong, and I couldn’t find anything to eat. I complained to M on We Chat (the Chinese instant messaging platform everyone uses) and he sent me an order of dumplings delivered to the hotel!
What will you take away from this experience?
I learned that American money goes a long way in China. I learned that the Chinese can be some of the kindest people on the planet—they were really helpful and good to me. I learned about China’s long history and current politics.
MOUNTAINS! Yunnan Province
So are you coming back a different person?
I have a new appreciation for some things I’ve taken for granted, like the American school system (the Chinese system is very stressful and rigorous) and certain “luxuries” like clean drinking water and reliable electricity. I gained a new taste pallet for foods I never had before, like dry hot pot and pomelo (which is like an enormous grapefruit). I learned that even in a new culture that is so different than my own, there are still so many similarities: people are people.
I am 22 and am adopted from China – well, my mother has to remind me that I was adopted because “adopt” is a verb, not a constant state of being.
I chose to go to China for my EMU cross-cultural long before college, even though I had already visited there in 2012 with my family. My brother was studying in China, so my parents felt it was the best opportunity to visit the three girls’ orphanages where my sisters and I came from.
During my visit to China with my family, the experiences I had changed what I knew of myself before. I was constantly told that I had such good English. Or people spoke to me in Chinese, expecting me to understand. Once, I even had a woman say to me, in Chinese (which my brother could understand), how it was so amazing that someone so young (I was sixteen at the time) was taking foreigners around China.
From these multiple encounters, I felt like I was a “fake” Chinese person, particularly since I didn’t know the language. I explored the term “Chinese-American,” but what I found did not sound like my story. I felt more American-Chinese. Chinese-American families usually involved several generations, where the kids’ grandparents and parents teach them Chinese culture and language. Their other family members looked like them, and they knew exactly where they came from. I didn’t feel Chinese, even though I looked “Chinese.”
I hoped that going to China for a semester would help me find the missing cultural piece of myself. I took the Mandarin course last year in preparation for the cross-cultural. Little did I know what was coming…
Once again, I found myself immersed in a place where I could only say, “thank you” and “my name is….” Our EMU group took Chinese language classes, studied Chinese history and learned on the go. So much new learning about China hit me hard, and it made me feel very defeated.
Most people in China do not understand the concept of adoption. It was difficult to explain it to my host mom and for her to explain it to others, such as taxi drivers, dance moms/dads, store clerks, restaurant workers, family members and grandparents.
Claire with her twin host sisters
I was put into a host family, whose first response to me was “Oh, I think our girls (6 year-old twins) will be a bit disappointed when they meet you next weekend,” since I didn’t look like a foreigner. And in fact my host sisters kept forgetting that I was a foreigner/American so they would speak to me in Chinese. Even 6-year-old Chinese was far more advanced than anything I had learned in my one semester of Chinese at EMU. So, that did not help me come to peace with my lack of “Chinese-ness”. College students would also tell me that I “look” Chinese. I had to confront this all semester.
There were times when I did not want to go to my host family’s [home] or felt embarrassed and scared about even going to the grocery store because of the looks I would get when I came up to a clerk with my Google translator or my broken Chinese vocabulary. When I was with EMU classmates, salespeople or restaurant workers assumed that I could translate or order for the foreigners, but I didn’t have enough vocabulary to explain my situation in terms they would understand. In the end, as one way to cope with the constant bombardment of feeling inadequate as a “Chinese”, I would use only English so as not to confuse native speakers into thinking I knew any Chinese at all.
But from this semester I have learned quite a bit about myself. These lessons are not from just my experiences, but from observing people in my cross-cultural group. The support I have received through this semester has been such a light at the end of my own tunnel of singular thoughts about my own identity. Even though I did not learn as much Chinese or become as fully “Chinese” as I initially thought I would, I have started to change my mindset and idea of what it means for me to be Chinese. Through the great support of my family at home and my cross-cultural friends and leaders, I am beginning to take a different approach to how I see myself as Chinese. For me, it will be a nonlinear path of growth. This cross-cultural is only a small part in my journey of self-acceptance.
When I told my sister-in-law, a native of Zhejiang province here in China, that I would be spending a semester studying in Nanchong she was understandably confused. A small provincial town of only about 1.3 million, Nanchong isn’t the first place to come to pretty much anyone’s mind when you tell them you are studying in China. Why are we not exchanging with one of the bigger cities with the more famous colleges like Beijing, Shanghai, Nanjing, or even Hong Kong, like most colleges do?
Chinese Cooking Class in Former EMU Scholar’s Apartment
The answer is actually fairly simple. Nanchong is our main home during the cross cultural because it is where students can experience a normal life away from tourists and tourist sites. While those big cities are still very much Chinese, it is in places like Nanchong that one can learn to know people and the culture best.
Western meal in Nanjing
Places like Shanghai and Nanjing, where most American students usually end up are much larger and more modernized than the provincial cities of China. Public transportation mainly consists of buses and the occasional taxi; metros and other faster transportation are reserved for larger cities. Westerners are less of an oddity in larger cities as well, and it’s easy to see others culturally like the majority of our group, whereas in Nanchong we stand out and there are less people to share our experience with. We have to interact with the culture and people more than in a big city. American fast food takes more work to get in Nanchong, with a 25 minute bus ride to get to the nearest McDonald’s or the other limited options of western food while Nanjing seems to have a McDonald’s or Starbucks every few blocks and Shanghai even has Taco Bell and Shake Shack. Not being able to blow our stipend on western fast food easily forced us to try more foods and small shops. This also proved to be a good way to connect with students and learn the food culture of China.
Being at a smaller less prestigious school like China West Normal University allowed us to connect with Chinese students much easier than it would have probably been at a larger school, since there is less opportunity to latch on to other foreigners. Through them we learned a lot, from high school and college life dynamics to the art involved in Mahjong and ping pong. Being a small group at a small school also seemed to make the English majors more willing to open up with us. They talked to us about their stresses over school and their future, and even about the drama they experienced amongst themselves. We made good friends and cultural connections at Nanchong’s China West Normal University than we probably would have at a large, prestigious university in Beijing or Shanghai.
Tai Chi in Nanchong – Photos by Brandi Nelson
Being in a small provincial city also allowed us to connect with the countryside culture along with the urban. Many of the people we saw in Nanchong were originally from the countryside but had relocated to the city to work. We were able to visit a countryside farm, and talk to the farmer to see what their lives were like. Living off small pensions and the food they grow themselves, life is far from lavish in the countryside. The farm we visited couldn’t even sell the goods they grew due to low sale value. The farmer was very open with his life and his past.
Nanchong is definitely not Nanjing or one of the other larger Chinese cities. Even in the city itself it is a completely different world. There is very little western influence and the infrastructure is less modern, though Nanchong is still growing. Though it seems odd to those who don’t know about Nanchong, being in a less touristy area gave us a more realistic view of China and allowed us to experience much more than we could have at a famous school.
Being in China has pushed me to to be more adventurous and try things that I would normally stray away from. In the past, I automatically lost interest if I even heard the word “hiking”. I’ve never been the athletic type. In fact, I can’t even walk half way up the hill on EMU’s campus without searching for the nearest bench.
So, my mom was understandably shocked when I told her I was going to participate in a two day hike to the Tiger Leaping Gorge. Hearing that there was beautiful scenery was definitely a motivator for my decision to go.
Since I was able to go at my own pace, I was able to stop and appreciate the scenery. It was also pretty manageable because I could sit down and take a rest when I felt like I couldn’t go any further.
Within the first hour or so I tripped on some rocks walking up hill, which made me regret embarking on this journey. But, I took a deep breath, accepted the fact that I was covered in dirt, and kept moving along. A man walking with a horse followed our group for quite a while and tried to coerce us to ride the horse along the trail. He imitated our huffing and puffing in an attempt to convince us to give in. We decided to face the challenge head-on though and walk to the half-way point the first day.
Before the hike, we were warned that the most difficult part was the twenty-eight switchbacks, a series of uneven stone steps that continuously went up and around. We thought that we had already conquered the switchbacks before lunch, but we soon discovered that was not the case. This was very discouraging because we knew that it was only going to get more difficult. I had to take a little break after about five switchbacks.
It was chilly up in the mountains, but it felt like a hundred degrees as we tried to go uphill as fast as we could with the sun beaming down on us. About halfway through the switchbacks, I set my heavy backpack down and laid down in the shade. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and told myself that I would make it.
Once I reached a sign that read, “You conquered the 28 bends,” I was actually surprised that there weren’t any more. After a long day of hiking, we stayed at the Halfway Hostel that thankfully had heated blankets. It felt great to be able to curl up in a ball and be surrounded with warmth after exerting so much energy. The next day, I was not as sore as I expected to be.
We had a satisfying breakfast and set out to hike three hours before stopping at a guesthouse to rest. We saw a beautiful waterfall on the way and stopped to capture the image. I appreciated being in such a peaceful setting and being able to take in all the scenery.
I was discouraged on the way to Tina’s Guesthouse because there were many slippery areas sprinkled with loose rocks and boulders which I constantly tripped over. I was thrilled once I saw the sign for the hotel in the distance and charged downhill.
Tina’s provided free transportation to the rock where the tiger is believed to have leaped to the gorge from. We then discovered that there was no transportation back and it would be about a 3-hour hike back.
I wasn’t too happy about this after such a strenuous hike, but I decided to accept the challenge. Walking closer to the gorge was mostly downhill, which made it a little easier. But, once I got to the point where one could actually stand on the rock, I decided that I did not want to go on.
The bridge didn’t look very supportive in my opinion. I saw that many people made it across safely and were happily taking photos on the large rock, but I knew that I would be terrified if I felt the bridge sway. Luckily, there was a faster way to get back to the guesthouse that didn’t require walking up all the steps we walked down.
It was quite a sight to go up two ladders to get back up the mountain. I was frightened when I reached the end of the first ladder and realized my leg was too long to go over the last step. I panicked as Claire stood a few steps behind me and assured me that I just had to take a deep breath and pull myself over the step. Once we made it past the first ladder, the second ladder was a piece of cake.
Although the hike was strenuous and a lot more exercise than I’m used to, I am glad that I got the opportunity to do it. I don’t think I’d hike it again if I had the chance though. It was refreshing to experience a more rural side of China and be surrounded by nature and clean air. It was also great to devour a BLT once we returned to old town Lijiang–without any guilt. I had earned it!
