The Village

While I was in college, the buildup to the all important end-of-year exams was a hectic period, with huge amounts of last minute cramming - this was when I was at my most focused. At the climax you sit down and write for three hours and then - nothing. All the pressure, anxiety and sobriety disappears once the final answer of the final exam has been written - and in the days that immediately follow I found it very hard switch to idle mode - restless, I always felt I should be doing something.

Switching from big-city China (too much to see with not enough time) to miniscule Luotiancun (too little to see with too much time) had a similar effect. I had to slow my brain down to the pace of life I found myself in. After we had sorted our accommodation, we went for a stroll around the village.

After an hour of curious observation, both from us and the locals we came across, we had seen everything there was to see. Freed from the sightseeing pressure that we had grown accustomed to, there was nothing to do but relax and enjoy the snail’s pace.

The scenery surrounding the village was a much needed break from concrete and glass, though the most memorable things about our time here were interacting with the locals whilst living the same way and doing the everyday things just like they did. Our toilet was communal, shared with numerous other households in our vicinity, and consisted of no more than a small shed with a narrow gap in the concrete floor to squat over. Only a few days before, I encountered the most advanced toilet I had ever seen - toilets providing excellent evidence of the huge contrast between city and rural life in China.

Having a shower was the most fun though, with the following routine:

1. Go to shower room to collect bucket.
2. Bring bucket to village well to fill with water.
3. Return to shower room with bucket.
4. Use bucket to wash yourself.

With the well and the shower room a couple of minutes walk from each other, it was definitely the most unique shower routine of my trip.



By the third day I’m certain the whole village had a name for each of us. We were different, but never felt like outsiders, being greeted with smiles wherever we wandered. I grew up in a small town, so perhaps this is one reason why I felt so at home here, so at ease.

Our host, who someone soon nicknamed “hostel mama” (I can’t remember who came up with that), cooked us a delicious dinner on a couple of occasions, but we also tried out the local restaurants. Some of the most memorable interactions with the locals were had here, where, with no menu to speak of, and no common language, ordering ended up with visits to the kitchen to point at ingredients.



With my charades experience finally proving useful, we had to mime how we wanted it cooked too - although at times it proved near impossible to convey to them that we wanted our noodles fried. At one meal Kaisa even supervised the whole cooking process, to make sure they cooked it the way we (she) wanted - though being a passionate fan of cooking herself, I think this was more for her own enjoyment. She cracked the whip quite well, as the subsequent meal was the best we had in our time in the village.

Of course, with the five of us together, there were many many games of bullshit and many beers had too. Somehow it always ended up with Fred and myself retrieving the beer, and we stayed loyal to a single shop for most of our brew supply. The kindly woman that owned the establishment sold more beer in three days than she probably had sold in the previous year - having to restock numerous times, she probably installed a new kitchen in her house after our visit.



Alas, all good things must come to an end, and the picture above is from the very last game of bullshit. Our plans too divergent, we would have to split back into the groups of two and three that we were before that night in Shanghai. We had made the first truly great friends of the trip.



The possibility of meeting Fred again in Vietnam was there, so that made it easier, though we didn’t know if we’d ever see Kaisa again. Such is life on the road. This was more difficult for Gearoid, for whom romance had sprung up with Kaisa. Would they ever see each other again? To find out, you’ll just have to keep reading.

The Rules of Bullshit

Bullshit is a card game for 2+ players, though it’s best with four or more.

Requirements for play:

• One deck of cards.
• One bar nearby, preferably with cheap beer (if no bar is available, an off-licence will suffice).

Rules:

1. The cards are arranged in a pyramid as in the picture above. The rows have values as follows: the bottom (first) row is 1 drink, the second row is 2 drinks, the third row 3 drinks, the fourth 4 and the fifth 5.
2. Each player is given four cards.
3. Before the game begins, each player is given 3 seconds to look at and remember the value and position of each of their cards.
4. The game begins: the first card of the bottom row is turned over and is in play.
5. Now any player can call “drink” to any other player. When they do this they claim that they have a card of the same value as the one that was turned over. When this happens: The targeted player can believe the person by drinking or can not believe them and call “bullshit”. If the targeted player calls “bullshit”, then the player who called “drink” initially has to turn over the card. If it doesn’t match the card that’s in play, then the person who called “drink” (who lied) has to drink twice the amount. If it does match (telling the truth), then the person that called “bullshit” has to drink twice the amount.

It’s also possible to call “drink drink” (and “drink drink drink“), where you claim you have two cards of the same value as the card in play. This doubles the amount of drinks involved.

Special rules added in by ourselves:

• If it is the birthday of a participant, then whilst that participant is away at the toilet or another urgent matter, the other players are obliged to fix the game so that said participant consumes as much alcohol as possible.
• If Gearoid Crowley is playing, remember that he is boring and honest and never lies.

Sights, Beer and Bullshit

With a huge number of things to see, we decided to start our first day proper in Shanghai with the tallest: the Shanghai World Financial Centre. Like Beijing, Shanghai’s metro system, running above and below ground, is extremely efficient and easy to use (save for a couple of minor problems with it’s e-card ticket system). We breezed over to Pudong New Area, the area of the city with the tallest skyscrapers, in no time.



Ascending the stairs leading out of the metro station, the collection of tallest skyscrapers slowly came into view, and my jaw dropped. Having never been to New York or anywhere else with buildings near this height, this was a new sensation for my eyes. I felt a child-like excitement surge inside me, and spent close to two minutes just standing in one spot skyscraper-gazing.



To get to the top-floor observation deck of the SWFC was expensive, but worth it. This really was China showing off it’s financial might, with an impressive lights/special effects show preceding the incredibly fast ascent up to the 97th floor (the lift ascends at 8m per second). Once there, the extra money we paid meant we could ascend three stories higher. The views from the top were outstanding. If you visit the SWFC and you’ve never been to Japan (I haven’t, yet), then go down to the food court in the basement and check out the toilets, an experience in itself.



It took a bit of convincing, but I persuaded John and Gearoid that the best way to get across the river to the Bund district on the other side was to take the famously bad Bund Sightseeing Tunnel. Passengers are herded onto a moving platform, which slowly proceeds under the river through a barrage of cheap light effects and a soundtrack straight from “BBC Sound Effects Volume 3“. Like a Steven Seagal film, it was so bad it was hilarious, at least I thought so. John and Gearoid still haven’t forgiven me though.



The Bund itself in many parts looks more like a street in New York than China. With neoclassical reminders of Shanghai’s past on one side, and the ultra-modern Pudong skyline across the Huangpu River on the other, walking down the Bund was, for me, another experience unique to China that I enjoyed immensely.



If I thought it all looked impressive during the day, after dusk the views really blew my socks off. We went for a stroll down the enormous East Nanjing Road, the biggest capitalist/shopping street in the city, and by the time we returned to the Bund for a boat tour on the river, the Pudong skyline had transformed into a neon wonderment, an iconic sight and rightly so.

A long day’s sightseeing earned a few drinks that night, the after-effects of which resulted in a long lie-in the next morning. We got so comfortable in the hostel bar that this ended up being the second day spent entirely within it‘s borders.



With weary eyes, we were nearly ready to retire to our dorm room when, unwittingly, one of the defining moments of our trip occurred. A Finnish girl came over and asked us if we wanted to join in a game of cards. We agreed, joining a motley crew of travellers at the table, and learned the skills of a drinking/card game that would come to define a significant part of our time in China. The name of the game? Bullshit.