Are we ever really lost?

We know roughly where we are, be it a city, region or country. We are on the earth, from that point of view we’re not lost at all. We have a place within the cosmos. I have been lost, literally and figuratively. Much of my time is now spent trying to get lost.

But you just asked if we’re ever really lost?

Who’s that? Shut up. Don’t interrupt.

As long as I know which way is north and I have a rudimentary map I can find what I’m looking for. Eventually. Knowing the compass points is key. When I first arrived at my digs in China I was confused. I had no idea where north was. It was good my faith (or total lack there of) didn’t involve facing Mecca. After discovering north, navigating my new world became easier.

New world? Are you Columbus? North? Oliver North?

Shut up.

I was lost, really lost, only once. On a cold, rainy October afternoon some friends and I went hiking. After reaching our destination, the remains of an old uranium mine, we started back. One friend decided on a short cut. His error in judgment led to hours of walking in the rain, wading through beaver ponds, and generally being miserable. It wasn’t a bad place to be lost, it was bordered on four sides by roads and the area was about 18 square kilometers. We would have been found before DNA was needed to identify our remains.

I learned lessons that day. Most involved stupidity, listening to others, and always carrying a compass. None of those have translated into my urban, Chinese, existence.

I stray from the path. A straight line between Point A and B is boring. There are too many alleys to explore along the way. I’m never really lost, I know what city I’m in and my approximate location on a map. I’ll never have to worry about resorting to cannibalism if lost in China as I would in the Canadian wilds. Many varieties of street food are widely available.

If I hadn’t had strayed from the path I never would have found Nui Xiang (translated: cow path) and the mailbox covered wall (above). Getting lost has advantages.

originally published: November 26, 2007

The knocker on the "temple" door atop Shao Hill Peak (Shaoshan feng),

Shaoshan, Hunan, China is the pinnacle of capitalism.  The residents of the rural village provide tourists with everything they need: Food, accommodations, transportation, and unneeded tours and advice. The villagers hustle as well as street touts in Beijing, Hong Kong, or Bangkok.

Mao Zedong, the former Chinese leader, was born in Shaoshan, and the kin of his former neighbors have cashed in on their most famous resident. Mao would probably have mixed feelings about what his ancestral village has become (or maybe not, I don’t have a Chinese Ouija board to call up Chairman Mao).

Deng Xiaoping, who followed Mao as the leader of China and was responsible for Reform and Opening policies, would probably congratulate the villagers for their capitalistic spirit and moxie.  Chairman Deng once famously said, “To be rich (is) glorious.”

The above image is of a door knocker at a ‘temple’ atop Shao Hill Peak, a mountain above the Shaoshan.  While one Taoist temple at the peak looks genuine, this one does not. As I said, touts with capitalistic spirit and moxie.

A solitary fish swims in the reflecting pool in the  Grand Temple of South Mountain, or the  Grand Temple of Mount Heng  (南岳大庙) in Nanyue, Hunan, China. Mount Heng, or Hengshan, is one of the five sacred Taoist mountains in China. It rises 1290 meters above the Hunan countryside. The mountain is dotted with temples, some dating to the 9th and 10th centuries.

Stay tuned for a more in-depth post and more photos from Nanyue and Hengshan.

A good fortune may forbode a bad luck, which may in turn disguise a good fortune.
Chinese Proverb

A village wall in a rural Chinese village in Hunan Province.

Performers on stage outside one of famous restaurants in Changsha, China

Yes, I have returned to the big city. I am enjoying western toilets, air conditioning, and running water.

Oh, the foods I ate. I sampled a Hunan delicacy: Stinky Tofu (not to be confused with Snarky Tofu). For the unenlightened: Stinky tofu is marinated in a mix of fermented milk, Chinese herbs and spices, and other goodies  for several months. Honestly: It smells like raw sewage. Get a single whiff and you’ll never forgot it. In Hunan, China, it’s fried until black. Served, it looks like a charcoal briquette. No, not appetizing. Strangely, it doesn’t taste bad. The smell disappears when the tofu is cooked.

Other treats included:

• Boiled Peanuts
• Flower Pork
• Crispy and Spicy Fried Duck
• Mao’s favorite food: Hongshao Rou (braised, fatty pork)
• Assorted Noodle Dishes
• Food with Peppers (eggs and peppers, pork and peppers, beef and peppers)
• Dried Smoked Fish (with peppers).
• Squid and Oyster Mushroom Soup

My stomach was not the only casualty. My Canon 40D is pretty much dead. It succumbed climbing Mount Hengshan. Ironic – I’ve only wanted to climb the mountain for four years and didn’t bring my spare DSLR body with me.

I have no idea what happened. Yes, it got a few raindrops on it, but it’s (supposedly) weather sealed. The copious amounts of my sweat may have leaked into the wonderful machine’s innards. I called Canon support in Hong Kong and was told to “bring it in,” with no possible explanation for the camera’s strange behavior. I guess I’ll be shooting with my Canon 400D for a few weeks.

Stay tuned for more photos and tales. After a month off I’m a little lazy but looking for to new challenges and adventures.

Yes, actually this is an exit, at a Hong Kong MTR station on Hong Kong Island. I’ve always wanted to use the final line from Brent Easton Ellis’ satirical novel American Psycho.

I’ll be away for a couple of weeks, as I said, putting on my traveling shoes. Changsha, Heng Shan, Chenzhou, Guiyang, China – It should be quite fun. I’ll follow my standard of practice of not asking what I’m eating. Asking will limit my food choice. Being dumb is often better.

I’ll be getting a new Chinese visa on Tuesday, then catching a night train. Fifteen hours in a soft-sleeper is better than 15 hours in a hard seat. The romance of the rails doesn’t apply in China. I may drink heavily before the train trip.

I’ll try to update with fresh photos while on the road. The best way to get updates is to follow me on Twitter.