Internet connections are not reliable so, I'm not as regular with my Blog entries as I would like to be. The following was written on my cell (ouch say my thumbs) while on a long bus ride from Dali to Lijiang. This will catch you up to what we did and where we were a few days ago.
Day 9 (6th Nov) was spent visiting some Dali sites. We started with a boat tour on the rather large Dali lake in a very large boat.
Our first stop was on the tiniest island with a Temple (photo 1). Awaiting the hordes to come ashore was a multitude of food vendors hoping we would part with some of our Chinese change in exchange for something weird and wonderful ... on a stick! (photo 2)
Back on board we made our way to a second island. It was somewhat larger but also was home to another Temple. I'm sorry to say both trips to the temples required a steep climb up stone steps without hand rails. This adventurer is not so adventurous when it comes to personal harm and/or injury to my very own body.
When one does not speak Mandarin one cannot shout out, "Help! Doctor!". Actually we wanted to shout out those very words when Carrie scared the living daylights out of us. Thankfully it all worked out fine with a happy ending but it was touch and go there for several minutes.
So, you might well ask, what happened? Michael trotted off to find 'the head'. He was gone longer than expected and this foreigner was left to fight off Chinese tourists to save his seat. All was forgiven when he returned with lemon cookies.
The cookies were rather hard and dry but no problem. Lemony was good enough for me. Carrie was enjoying them, too. She was telling me ... I don't remember what ... when suddenly she stopped mid-sentence. I looked at her as her body was racked by coughing. I soon realized she was choking on a hard bit of biscuit. Her somewhat purple face was a good clue.
A few well-placed thumps on her back did nothing. I yelled out, "Oh, my God! She needs the Haimlick(sp?) maneuver". Not one Chinese person moved. They all just stared. Remembering just how to make such moves in crisis mode has always worried me. I made the appropriate fists and tried to help Carrie unload the crumby culprit.
Feeling I was not strong enough, I turned the purple patient over to Michael. In the end I have no idea what worked but Carrie was once again breathing and her colour had faded to a deep scarlet. Whew!
Here's the thing. We had discussed a few nights earlier how to inform Carrie's sister, Mers, should something untoward befall Carrie, making her third visit to China ... shall we say, a more permanent stay. "Oh", Carried had informed, "just tell her she can open the French doors". The sisters share a cottage on The Bruce Peninsula and those doors separate their space.
Fancying myself a bit of a writer, I thought a poem might be a good way to break the dreadful news. Something short and sweet like, "Sister Mers, we ordered a hearse". It was a good laugh until the choking started mere days later.
If the catastrophic cookie had won the batle I would have re-written my ode to say ...
"Your sister, whose name starts with a 'C', has choked on a cookie and was buried at sea". Ah, we laugh at it now but all three of us were scared out of our wits. So sorry I didn't think to take photos to accompany the story.
Meanwhile back to the tour. We were dropped off at the top of the lake where our driver for the day waited to take us to two other sites which were both old cities.
The first was filled with market stalls while the second had more interesting shops where I bought a couple of batic wall hangings. I saw the sweetest Chinese faces selling their wares (photo 3).
At the second old city we found a vendor making very interesting pizza in the most interesting way. Carrie shared a delicious and crispy sweet version. Yum!
We went for dinner at the home of a Baha'i family who have lived in Dali, right in the old town, for the last nine years. The mother, Nicole, is originally from Chili. Her husband, Faraz, is Iranian. They have six children, four of which still live at home (photo 4).
My contribution to the evening was to teach six people about Zentangle, an art form I learned last year. It was a delight for me, as it appeared to be for the budding Zentangle artists.
We had the most wonderful hotel in Dali with a sweet hotel manager, Faruk (an unusual name for a Chinese man). He tells me his mother saw a movie with that name in it and that's how he got it. Faruk reminded us of our son, Ben. Need I add Faruk is also very handsome? (photo 5)
Faruk had just moved to Dali a couple of weeks earlier. His English was impeccable. We thought it a good idea to link Faruk with Faraz to help him find his way in Dali. Faruk and I also exchanged contact info. I hope we keep in touch with this wonderful young man who was so very helpful.
Our bus arrived in Lijiang so, here endeth this epistle. Our day yesterday in Lijiang proved quite interesting. There were two brushes with police. I'll save that one for another blog.
Love and greetings from China!
Marlene (and Michael)
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