Drifting is the phrase the Chinese use to refer to the rafting like activity
Desi and I had planned for the day. I had anticipated some sort of debacle this morning, my pessimism seemed to be at a high after the uncomfortably long
wait for the taxi this morning. In the cab I thought the driver was taking us
back to the travel agency instead of the rafting site. Turns out, I worry for
no reason. Didn't need to go to China to learn that,but nevertheless we ended
up where we needed to be and at the correct time. At the site we took a bus up
the side of a mountain and giggled with the largely high school aged group when
we hit bumps that caused the bus to jump in the air. At the top of the river we
put on life jackets and army style helmets. Some how Desi and I managed to find
the only green pair of helmets and we stuck out like Western enemies of the
orange Chinese naval force. It is yet another sign of how people in china
want to be the same, nobody wants to stick out. Westerners however want to be
seen as individuals, want to be perceived as individuals. Waiting in line I
talked to a Chinese high schooler in English. He was scared about the drifting which
made me feel oddly brave given my aversion for the majority of adventitious
activities. When entered our raft we were pushed down what looked like a
natural water slide. These initial drops and rapids were the most severe. It
seems feasible that you could fall out of our raft in the initial decent and if
my sandals weren't tied to the sides of the boat they would have surely gone
overboard. Then the water gets calm and people begin to splash each other with
pales and other assorted containers. Many Chinese, no matter what age, shoot
water guns at each other.
This
is a great activity to partake in with Chinese that you can't verbally
communicate with. I really enjoyed sneaking up on a boat and drenching an
unexpected Chinese girl with a bottle of water down their back. With the
drifting complete we obtained two laminated souvenir photos, a female Chinese
bathing suit all of which resemble a more modest and classy circa the 1950s.
Desi doesn't like the Chinese bathing suits, i however think they're like
little outfits. We were both rather hungry after having partaken in such a
sportive activity and therefore we ended up eating at a canteen-like restaurant
on the premises. Our meal included steamed corn, meatballs, beef noodles and
tofu. The waitresses laughed at me when I began to bus my own table. Customers
don't throw out their own trash in China. Not even at fast-food restaurants.
After getting help from a couple locals we took a taxi to the bus station
and grabbed the bus back to Shenzhen, our home away from home.
No comments:
Post a Comment