Bill Longworth
November 2, 2011
Buster Keaton, Charlie Chaplin, the three stooges, Curly, Larry, and Moe, and even Laurel and Hardy were never this good!
It was an impromptu slapstick comedy act. Bicyclists peddling down the street knee deep in water with tons of floating garbage catching their spokes, seizing their wheels, and tumbling countless riders into the rushing water.
Too bad there weren’t judges around to hold up cards judging the dives...5.6, 6.0, 5.8, to make a real competition out of the pratfalls....and audiences to cheer the level of their approval. Instead there were only howls of laughter and derision at those unfortunate victims of the situation.
The speed of some of the bigger and heavier chunks of garbage rushing down the road collided with the bicycles crashing their riders into the flood.
In the face of colliding with the bigger debris, some nimble riders jumped off their bikes and took off as best they could into the drink to escape the bombardment.
You couldn’t plan such a comedy routine as rider after rider fell victim to the garbage strewn water.
Slapstick was never as good as this!
If I didn’t think I was in such a desperate predicament, I would have joined all of the other onlookers laughing their heads off at the ridiculous and bizarre buffoonery we were witnessing in the rapidly rising water.
With a few spare hours to kill, I had ventured out into a sunny China afternoon for a bike ride to a nearby rural neighbourhood when an unexpected rainstorm suddenly arose. Rapidly drenched, I quickly pulled my bike up under a canopy to avoid getting more soaked than I already was.
Without storm water control systems, the water rushed overland and was soon a torrential river roaring down the road that only a few minutes earlier had been a dusty broken road between the open-fronted shops lining the road.
The rain water flooded the street as I watched helplessly from higher ground wondering if I could get back to Kunming’s Yunnan Finance and Trade Institute in SW China to deliver my 7 o’clock lecture.
I shivered in my wet clothes as the river flooded higher and higher as I perched precariously atop the biggest boulder I could find. If I lost my footing or the water rose much higher, its strong current surely would have floated me downstream in the torrent, along with the many other comedic river rats and garbage.
Such a spectacle would probably have been the highlight of the show as most ordinary Chinese saw all white North American big noses like me as wealthy, coming as we did, from a place where all the streets were paved in gold. So being swept away in the current and garbage would be a just comeuppance for me.
While this flooding was a surprise and a fright to me as the water continued to rise, the native inhabitants of the place had obviously seen this before and saw humour where I saw danger, and they saw a cleansing of their neighbourhood where I saw pollution.
The eighteen inch water became a flushing system for all of the garbage and dirt of the community. To add to the mayhem, shopkeepers threw all of their garbage into the rushing water so that the flood become a sea of flotsam rushing downhill to Lord knows where. While the garbage was sure to end up as someone’s problem down the line, it was a welcome saviour for those on higher ground to get rid of litter that had probably been piling up since the last storm. Eco concerns were the last thing on anyone’s mind.
While this demonstration of a natural flushing system was probably a godsend to the upstream people, it brought considerable anguish to me with my concern with world pollution problems...such a contrast to this culture where garbage is simply strewn about.
This event, though, did provide reinforcement of lessons I have learned numerous times in my international work experience. And that is to not judge customs in foreign lands by my North American standards, which may be equally perplexing to them.
But my experience with this flash flood has given me greater appreciation of the power of nature and the catastrophe’s that can erupt so quickly catching all by surprise who are in its wake....and often with disastrous results.
And by the way, I never did get to that lecture.
Showing posts with label yunnan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label yunnan. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Monday, April 13, 2009
What If? ©
By Bill Longworth
April 15, 2009
The roar of the mighty Yangtze River was deafening as it funneled into the narrow gorge formed by neighbouring mountains in a remote part of Yunnan Province in South West China, where few foreigners had ever been. For that matter, only a few locals accompanying their pack donkeys would ever venture along the narrow mule track blasted out of the mountainside, high above the unruly river. But here I was!
There are those times in your life when unforeseen situations and circumstances, in retrospect, keep raising the question…What if? What if? What if? And this was one of those defining times. A time when twenty seconds was the microscopic juncture between the “here” and the “hereafter”; the great divide between Heaven and Earth—a gulf measured in seconds; an escape too close for comfort. Like the nine lives of a cat, this incident, I believe, subtracted from my lifetime quota of “close calls!”
I was taken to this desolate place by the dean of my university department at the Yunnan Finance and Trade Institute where I was employed as a “visiting professor.” The dean had grabbed some government grants to do some tourism research in some out-of-the-way places in Yunnan that had not yet been promoted for tourism. I was the guinea-pig foreigner whose opinion would factor into potential development decisions of the region, which had previously been declared a UN World Heritage Site.
The place was known as Tiger Leaping Gorge, billed from the top of its mountain peaks to the depth of its river bed, as the deepest gorge in the world. I thought it might be equally billed as the loudest place in the world from the wild water fighting its way through the narrow gorge, or the scariest place in the world in our aerie perch from which we observed the battle far below. This perch hung from rock venturing straight up to the mountain peak on one side and straight down to the howling river on the other, with no safety barriers inhibiting those who might venture too close to the edge.
Along the way, there was periodic evidence of rock slides, both on our ledge and on the river edge far below. I wondered what the fate had been of those caught in rock slides as well as those who'd been there when the road bed gave way.
You can imagine my trepidation about being transported along this mule track in a van whose mechanical condition, and whose driver’s skills, both were questionable. I also had some serious concerns about the strength of the mule track, winding its way along the mountain slope, hoping it would not give way to the load of our van and driver, myself, and the five Chinese professors on board. But saving face is a big thing with the Chinese, and I couldn’t possibly show the fear I undeniably felt.
Periodically, we did get out of the van to converse with the native Naxi people, driving their mules along the ledge, to take pictures, or, when we were able, to climb down to the Yangtze at its most impressive places, like the rock wedged gingerly in the middle of the raging river that gave the place its name, Tiger Leaping Gorge. Apparently, as legend has it, a tiger leaped across the river at this point to escape hunters.
I had no idea how far along this ledge we were going to drive, or indeed where the ledge led to, if it led anywhere beyond a “dead end.” I was beginning to feel, however, that it wasn’t much of a “Sunday” drive, and I had had just about enough.
The answer to my first question, though, appeared in an impervious cloud of dust I saw just ahead. A rockslide threw tons of rubble onto the ledge not 100 metres in front of us, a spot we would have passed in twenty seconds or so. We were close enough to catch the dust! The track became impassible. What were we now going to do? Back up the ten miles or so we had traversed along the narrow ledge?
No! The driver found a wider section of the mule track, to attempt a three-point turn-around. He inched the van forward and backward numerous times, each time with the rear end of the long-body van extending far out over the edge of the ledge. The view straight down from my seat was deadly. It was absolutely terrifying! If ever there was a time to atone for one’s sins, this was it!
Once the driver manipulated the “turn-around,” we thanked our lucky stars and turned to questioning. What if this rock slide had occurred behind us, blocking our return? Would the ledge ahead have led us anywhere? Even worse, what if the rock slide had hit the van? Would we have gotten out of the mess? I don’t know. I’m still shaking from the thoughts of the experience!
Needless to say, though, that twenty seconds proved our sense of timing impeccable that day!
That’s why I’m here to tell you all about it!
Pictures of "The Ledge" at Tiger Leaping Gorge
LINKS
Tiger Leaping Gorge video 1
Tiger Leaping Rock where the tiger crossed…I was here!...mentions frequent rock slides..this film is from 2005-2007 and I was there in 1998---there was no bus service then…the “road” was very precarious
Hike on high road at Tiger Leaping Gorge…I was on low road
Yangtze River
Yunnan
Legend of Cat's 9 Lives
Yunnan Finance and Trade Institute
UN World Heritage Site
Saving Face--Chinese social concept
Naxi People
Three point turn
Atonement for sins
Watch this amazing video portraying the mountain lifestyle of these Bolivian farmers who risk their lives every day and then give thanks for what we have. So many people's in the world live similar lives to these farmers.
April 15, 2009
The roar of the mighty Yangtze River was deafening as it funneled into the narrow gorge formed by neighbouring mountains in a remote part of Yunnan Province in South West China, where few foreigners had ever been. For that matter, only a few locals accompanying their pack donkeys would ever venture along the narrow mule track blasted out of the mountainside, high above the unruly river. But here I was!
There are those times in your life when unforeseen situations and circumstances, in retrospect, keep raising the question…What if? What if? What if? And this was one of those defining times. A time when twenty seconds was the microscopic juncture between the “here” and the “hereafter”; the great divide between Heaven and Earth—a gulf measured in seconds; an escape too close for comfort. Like the nine lives of a cat, this incident, I believe, subtracted from my lifetime quota of “close calls!”
I was taken to this desolate place by the dean of my university department at the Yunnan Finance and Trade Institute where I was employed as a “visiting professor.” The dean had grabbed some government grants to do some tourism research in some out-of-the-way places in Yunnan that had not yet been promoted for tourism. I was the guinea-pig foreigner whose opinion would factor into potential development decisions of the region, which had previously been declared a UN World Heritage Site.
The place was known as Tiger Leaping Gorge, billed from the top of its mountain peaks to the depth of its river bed, as the deepest gorge in the world. I thought it might be equally billed as the loudest place in the world from the wild water fighting its way through the narrow gorge, or the scariest place in the world in our aerie perch from which we observed the battle far below. This perch hung from rock venturing straight up to the mountain peak on one side and straight down to the howling river on the other, with no safety barriers inhibiting those who might venture too close to the edge.
Along the way, there was periodic evidence of rock slides, both on our ledge and on the river edge far below. I wondered what the fate had been of those caught in rock slides as well as those who'd been there when the road bed gave way.
You can imagine my trepidation about being transported along this mule track in a van whose mechanical condition, and whose driver’s skills, both were questionable. I also had some serious concerns about the strength of the mule track, winding its way along the mountain slope, hoping it would not give way to the load of our van and driver, myself, and the five Chinese professors on board. But saving face is a big thing with the Chinese, and I couldn’t possibly show the fear I undeniably felt.
Periodically, we did get out of the van to converse with the native Naxi people, driving their mules along the ledge, to take pictures, or, when we were able, to climb down to the Yangtze at its most impressive places, like the rock wedged gingerly in the middle of the raging river that gave the place its name, Tiger Leaping Gorge. Apparently, as legend has it, a tiger leaped across the river at this point to escape hunters.
I had no idea how far along this ledge we were going to drive, or indeed where the ledge led to, if it led anywhere beyond a “dead end.” I was beginning to feel, however, that it wasn’t much of a “Sunday” drive, and I had had just about enough.
The answer to my first question, though, appeared in an impervious cloud of dust I saw just ahead. A rockslide threw tons of rubble onto the ledge not 100 metres in front of us, a spot we would have passed in twenty seconds or so. We were close enough to catch the dust! The track became impassible. What were we now going to do? Back up the ten miles or so we had traversed along the narrow ledge?
No! The driver found a wider section of the mule track, to attempt a three-point turn-around. He inched the van forward and backward numerous times, each time with the rear end of the long-body van extending far out over the edge of the ledge. The view straight down from my seat was deadly. It was absolutely terrifying! If ever there was a time to atone for one’s sins, this was it!
Once the driver manipulated the “turn-around,” we thanked our lucky stars and turned to questioning. What if this rock slide had occurred behind us, blocking our return? Would the ledge ahead have led us anywhere? Even worse, what if the rock slide had hit the van? Would we have gotten out of the mess? I don’t know. I’m still shaking from the thoughts of the experience!
Needless to say, though, that twenty seconds proved our sense of timing impeccable that day!
That’s why I’m here to tell you all about it!
Pictures of "The Ledge" at Tiger Leaping Gorge
LINKS
Tiger Leaping Gorge video 1
Tiger Leaping Rock where the tiger crossed…I was here!...mentions frequent rock slides..this film is from 2005-2007 and I was there in 1998---there was no bus service then…the “road” was very precarious
Hike on high road at Tiger Leaping Gorge…I was on low road
Yangtze River
Yunnan
Legend of Cat's 9 Lives
Yunnan Finance and Trade Institute
UN World Heritage Site
Saving Face--Chinese social concept
Naxi People
Three point turn
Atonement for sins
Watch this amazing video portraying the mountain lifestyle of these Bolivian farmers who risk their lives every day and then give thanks for what we have. So many people's in the world live similar lives to these farmers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
