Final Stop: Guangzhou

Guangzhou - (gwäng´jō´) or Canton (kăn´´tŏn´, kăn´tŏn´´) was the last destination in our itinerary. As the trade and cultural centre of South China for more than 2,000 years, Canton hums with around 13 million people. Canton was among the first cities to open up trade with the West in the 16th century, particularly Portugal. In addition, the infamous Opium War involving the British in the mid-19th century opened up China to the world.

This megalopolis seems to stretch forever, with endless mass housing facilities and factories, as well as towering skyscrapers dotting the landscape.

The dragon boat festival here features 120-man boats decked with gongs, drums, lanterns, flags and what-have-you. Unlike in Manila, Singapore and other cities where dragon boating is largely considered a sport, in China it is a cultural festival that dates back centuries. As such, you see a lot of spectators.

We managed 4th in the International category, with Italy finally catching up with us and edging us out. Since we paddled upstream against the current of the Pearl River, the 600 meter course seemed like a kilometer long.

It was my second time in Canton, last year the conditions were different: drizzling, soggy and filled with people to the brim. This time, the sun shone brightly and there were less people milling around.

Bart and I managed to roam a section of the city by asking directions from the concierge and have it written down in Chinese characters. You see, earlier, we walked an entire block only to end up exactly where we started- yes, the street turned out to be a loop.

We entered a shop specializing in sports wear. Bart has this habit of selecting pieces and paying for these items separately, such that when the cashier handed him his change, he had to go back and purchase another item. Incredibly, this happened a third time. I think the sales clerk was already making preparations to smack us down.

Bach-Gounod: Ave Maria

We are commanded to honor thy father and thy mother, just as Christ, being the second person in the Trinity, honored His own human mother by bestowing upon her the same divine glory. We simply imitate Him, we honor whomever He chooses to honor.

A tribute to mothers all over, J.S Bach-Charles Gounod's Ave Maria, interpreted by the incomparable Jessye Norman at the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, France.

Temple Visit

On our way to our final destination, the city of Guangzhou, our hosts dropped us by a 1,000 year-old Buddhist temple-complex, the oldest in Southern China.

It was my first time ever to set foot on a temple like this one, I felt like I were on the set of a Shaolin or Kung fu movie. I haven't even been inside the Taoist temple in Cebu.

The fact that other red-faced deities depicted in (curiously) an angry mode, were in the same temple as Buddha struck me as rather odd. Buddhism does accomodate other traditions or other Chinese folk beliefs.

Strange smells emanating from burning incense permeated the whole temple.

I do not know the significance of the turtle in Buddhist life as a large pond located near the entrance was full of them. You find them as well in stone carvings in front of the worship structures.

Third Stop: Shaoguan

Last time I travelled seven hours by bus was when I took an ordinary one (READ: no airconditioning) bound for Tacloban City from Catarman in Northern Samar. Sitting on that bus for what seemed like eternity was a numbing experience, I was tempted to jump off the San Juanico bridge.

It happened again on our way to our third destination, the city of Shaoguan in the northern part of Guangdong province. Leaving Zhanjiang at around 10 a.m., we reached Shaoguan at around 5 p.m.

Shaoguan is a working-class, industrial city in Northern Guangdong. Like most of China's cities, you can see signs of growth everywhere, but it is less cosmoplitan than either Guangzhou or Shenzen.

The bus trip took forever, my life literally flashed before my eyes. To kill boredom and to entertain myself, I had to make do with childhood memories. I refused to think about work.

The hotel seemed to hark back to the Mao era. It was obvious the rooms weren't used to have guests as the central air-conditioning system didn't seem to work. We were transferred to better accomodations: rooms fitted with sauna. The dining area seemed like it once served as a venue for Communist Party meetings, with 60's era decor of varnished wood panels.

During the regatta, we placed 4th out of 13 international teams for three rounds of cumulative time heats.

Kuya Art and I went out of the hotel to look for a drug store. I never thought he would be familiar with Chinese medicine, he immediately recognized what he claims is a popular cough syrup also found in Chinese drug stores in Manila. It took us quite some time to inform the shop keeper that we wanted the bigger size.

Communicating in sign language is a very exhausting, and sometimes frustrating experience. The trick is to drop the articles altogether, speak slowly and in plain English, and complement it by contorting body parts (use lots of hand signals) or facial expressions.

Again, during the dinner party the Philippine teams brought the house down with a hip-hop number ("Black-Eyed Peas' Bebot), le Pecheur and Frodo were among the performers, which had everybody on his/her feet. We're born entertainers, yah?

Trading Shirts

It is a tradition to exchange used uniforms after the dragon boat races. At dinner in Guangzhou, an Ozzie approached me.

In typical Ozzie fashion, he said, "Hey mate. Where's your table at?"

"Oh. It's over there," pointing to one side of the banquet room.

"Are you looking to trade your uniform? Why don't you start with me?" I said.

"OK. What do you have?", I pulled out an old long-sleeved uniform we used in Taipei, Taiwan in 2005, so large I have absolutely no use for it anymore.

"That's OK," and then he shook hands with me while giving me his recently-used uniform.

The Ozzie uniform was all wet and smelly. I never realized how foul the stench was not until I had gone back to the hotel room to wash it.

I couldn't remove the offensive smell. I do not know if it's BO or chemical.

It's currently soaked in detergent in my laundry area as I write this.

Amazing.

Second Stop: Zhanjiang

Located at the south-westernmost tip of the Chinese mainland, Zhanjiang is a coastal city that resembles much of tropical South East Asia: hot and humid, compared to its counterpart cities in the North.

We reached Zhanjiang after an almost six-hour train ride at around 5 a.m. We stayed at a beautiful villa dotted with palm and ornamental plants.

The beachside was the venue of the regatta, we ended up 4th out of 8 overseas teams.

In between heats, together with two other teammates, I fetched the team's ration of bottled water and Red bull cans. Without warning, somebody came towards me and told me to stop: he was going to take my picture :)

I was about to leave again when somebody else stopped me again, told me to put down boxes containing the Red bull cans, and took one out, handed it over to me, and guess what, took another picture. Yep, we became poster boys, sort of like instant endorsers of Red Bull. I guess that executive needed that picture to send to his office.

This picture-taking frenzy continued, mostly with the locals. On my way out, somebody pulled me aside when I responded that I came from Manila, to have our picture taken.

The locals were mostly fascinated with the half-naked Italians.

During dinner, our team managed to upstage everybody else (including the attention-grabbing and noisy Italians) and brought the house down with our Pinoy Big Brother dance number. Opo, sumayaw po ako :)

Food Trip

Eleven days of dining on authentic-- sometimes the exotic variety-- Chinese food, by the time we stayed an extra day in HK, Frodo and I were close to swallowing our own vomit.

I think it was in Jiujiang-Nanhai where I only found out later that I had been munching on frog legs. In Zhanjiang, I mistakenly thought the breaded sandworms were french fries. Yes I ate them. I didn't care anymore whether or not what appeared to be chicken was perhaps, pigeon. Kuya Art, my rowing partner, claims one dish featured leeches. I don't believe him. It looked like abalones. This time, I think he was pulling my leg.

Not used to walking great distances and hungry as hell (maybe that's the reason you hardly see obese people in HK, they walk a lot), we trekked the whole streeetch of Nathan Road in Kowloon, refusing to stop by any Chinese restaurant, diligently scouring signs of a McDonald's, KFC or Pizza Hut.

We settled inside a McDonald's. The food may be generally bland, but it's comfort food and something Filipinos are familiar with.