Memories of Songshan (Part 1)

Happy 4th of July! So my other travel journal is crap and is too hard to update and add pics, so I'll see how this works. Will update on the first part of the trip later, but right now here is an entry from my journal about the camp:

July 3, 2008 Zhengzhou

Left the Wushu school today. Except for getting sick, I was starting to really enjoy my experience there. It was sad to say goodbye to Sifu and all of the other students. Had lunch at Dicos with Ceddy for the last time, and then got a cab to the bus station. The bus was actually pretty nice, air conditioned and padded seats. I hopped on board and watched the Songshan mountains go by and then recede in the distance. After using every communication tool at my disposal, I managed to get a cab to take me to my hotel. The cabbie didn't seem to like the place and indicated something about me not staying there but I checked it out and it looked okay, so I went anyways. It is about what I expected, small room, but has a soft big bed, a warm shower, and a water boiler in the room, which is everything I need to survive.

So now I am sitting in my hotel room looking out across the rooftops and city lights, wishing that my cough will be gone tomorrow. The Billy Joel on my Ipod (along with the extra helping of sleep meds) is putting me in a reflective mood, so I think I'll talk about my experience at the Kung-Fu school before I pass out. I was't sure what to expect when I got to Zhengzhou, but I probably expected too much. The picture in my mind of the school was a sparse training camp high up in some pristine mountain in a remote area. I was partially right. After stepping off the plane and explaining to the immigration officials for the millionth time why the name on the front of my passport is wrong, I ran out to the waiting area 30 minutes late. As I scanned the half-dozen people holding signs at the baggage check, I realized that none of the signs had anything remotely looking like, "Kung-Fu School Here!" written on them, and I began to wish that my cell phone worked and that I had bothered to write down Yanlin's number. I wandered aimlessly around the exit area a bit, which turned out to be a good call, because a big, lost-looking white guy must have been pretty easy to spot. I was approached by a young, compact Chinese guy (who I later learned was named O-Shun and was one of the Sifus) and showed my (misspelled) name on a cell phone and asked if the name was mine. Relieved, I asked if he was from the Kung-Fu school, and he said yes and ushered me outside to a waiting van.

After about an hour of driving, we made it to the school, and I realized that although we were next to some mountains (were those mountains through the haze of smog?) the camp was much different than I had imagined. Trying to stay positive, I forced a smile as I walked up to the fourth floor of a dorm complex and was ushered into my room. Well, actually, O-Shun didn't have a key for me so we went through this dance where I had to go back downstairs and find one of my roommates, get his key, and then go up to the room and wrestle with the door lock for ten minutes before I finally got in. Anyways, I sat down on my bed...and realized that the box I had assumed was a mattress was...a wooden box with a sheet on it. Oh well, just go into the bathroom and wash my face and--crap, no water from the tap, and what is that awful smell? (I later leaned that the water was only available during certain, short times during the day, including the toilet, so the bathroom had a special "odor" for most of the day while the toilet waited to be flushed) I'll spare everyone the rest of my woeful complaining, but suffice to say that this place wasn't the Ritz. (coming up...part 2--adjusting to life at the camp)