Jilin Province, NorthWest China

I was in Austria when I got an email from a co-worker asking if I was ready for China. Huh? I frantically looked through my assignment spreadsheet and searched for my name. Yep. China. Holy Cow. Most investigators hate the thought of going there. As it turned out, it’s not easy.

Several weeks later, my trip planner had received my visa application and “invitation letters” had been processed and my flight plans said I was flying into 3 different cities in three provinces, first up, Changchun in Jilin Province, second, Suzhou in Jiangsu Province, and third, Chengdun in Sichuan Province. My first stopover: Beijing! Cool.

That first connection into China meant I was to go through the H1N1 gauntlet. Fortunately, I didn't have a sniffle to me, as I'd heard of entire planes being quarantined with someone showing up positive for the virus. I'd heard they have you open your mouth and shoot a low-intensity laser at your mouth to get your temp. Uh, no. Instead, they had me walk through a gateway-sort-of-thingy. Green! Yeah.

After 12+ hours and the connection through Beijing, arguably one of the more architecturally attractive airport hubs I've been through, I was glad to see a face with a sign with my name on it in Changchun airport.

Jilin City was strangely quiet on arrival. It was only 11:30pm and hardly any lights were still on. Usually, big city buildings are on, no? Oh well, my host helped me at the desk, a very grandiose hotel. Very, hmmm, Chinese? Jilin City turned out to have very little sights to see in the rain the next day. So, my host and a friend picked me up and we went to the Songhua Lake. Along the way, a motor cyclist paced us and yelled at our driver for about a ½ mile, in the rain. Huh? Are we getting pulled over? Am I going to end up in a provincial jail? No. The motorcyclist turned out to be some guy trying to get us go to a nearby restaurant! It felt like forever before he broke off the chase. Whew.

After paying twice to get to Songhua Lake, the super-loud blasting of a Mandarin voice screaming over a poorly modulated PA system put me on edge. I could see I was really at my host’s mercy. The voice turned out to be trivial. Ok, whatever.

We scooted down a muddy little hill in the light, warm mist on dirty carpets onto a narrow plank onto a long boat, sort of a water taxi which would lead us for about an hour and a half around Songhua Lake. The humidity and temperate conditions, maybe in high 60’s wasn’t too bad.

Jessie, my host, told me the houses or hotels were for government officials. Workers of these type receive very privileged “perks”. More about that later.After the marine fuel-laced air I was breathing, I was more than happy to do anything different. The trip was very boring. The first photos or images spoke it all, perhaps my hosts just didn’t know much about it all. We went to lunch at a local area. Our driver took us to a restaurant that was down a little dirt road, and around a corner and tucked in what seemed more like a cross between an agricultural area, failed business park and, I dunno, the zoning just didn’t make too much sense to me. The lunch was great. I asked for decaffeinated coffee. The wait-staff had no inkling what I was asking for. My hosts went scurrying around and left me for about 10 minutes while I took more pictures of the jungle-like setting inside the restaurant. Oh, it seemed like it took about 15 minutes to pick out the items we wanted to be cooked from a set of refrigerated open shelf-like thingies. I enjoyed seeing the choices of my first, real Chinese meal. Anyway, my hosts returned with a few packets of caffeinated coffee, sugar and milk for me! I was surprised, but I shouldn’t have been, I was told in the US that they will move Heaven and Earth to appease me. My co-worker was right.

When we were finished, the waitress brought us a set of “receipts”.

It turns out these are a way for the government to get restaurants to pay their taxes. Listen to this. The restaurant must request the receipts, say blocks of different denominations, from the government. They pay for them, that’s the tax. So, why should they? The customer must also “ask” for the receipt from the restaurant. So, why should they? Well, there’s a little scratch-off strip that allows them to “win” a few yuan, say up to a 100 (rare) and as few as 5 or 10 yuan (less rare), which they get in cash from the restaurant. The gov’t reimburses the restaurant for the winnings. The gov’t gets the “tax” and the restaurant gets to pay the tax while the customer gets a few yuan if they win. Uh, whatever. Oh, yeah, during this trip, one dollar is equal to 7 yuan, or as they call it, RMB, the national currency. The meal consisted of many dishes, the total was less than 50 yuan!!!! Holy cow! I really wished they had let me pay for it all, but this would be a fruitless battle for the entire trip, again, exactly as my co-workers had warned me.

The inspection began the next day. As this blog will not venture into the work-side of my life, those details are left unsaid. Outside of my hotel, the next day, I saw these cannons, sprayed painted and phony.

A few weeks later I learned the whole country was getting ready for “National Day”. It would be the 60th anniversary of the Cultural Revolution which strengthened the rule of the Communist Party. Cool.

That night we went for a hot pot meal and a nice walk along the hugely long waterfront of Jilin City. It was like Vegas, baby! Neon, fireworks and these balloons which people bought from vendors along the waterfront. I bought this one. What you do is buy it and the guy opens it up and keeps the mouth of the mini-hot air balloon open with a wire frame which also holds a little, highly flammable “Sterno” candle. We hold it up and allow the candle to heat the air until the balloon opens up with enough hot air to take it up, up and away until it floats high up in the sky, over the river and towards other buildings and the rest of the city! We watch the little army of balloons take off, each with a wish written on it, then slowly disappear. I don’t think this would “fly” in the US.

This was a Sunday night. My hosts informed me each Sunday they show these Chinese soap operas on a floating LED billboard, alternatively showing ads for Snow beer, the national Bud of China, it turned out. I had to keep reminding myself, well, that’s not entirely true, that China is still a one-party country. Billboards reminded me that the TV and media are run by the government.

China is a very crowded country, but rich with history and it seemed very busy at daytime.

The last day of the inspection was not as long, unlike all the other days, where I would get home between 7:30 and 11:50 at night. I was not unhappy to leave by the end of the week.

While taking the pictures seen below, in front of the company, I heard a voice saying something over and over again. It sounded very melodic, but definitely recorded. It turned out to be someone selling cold noodles, announcing it for the entire province to hear! It really was unusual to concentrate on my work while hearing this. I wanted to know more. I wanted to taste those noodles. I wanted to see what else was there. But I was not the tourist, I was here for my country! The company even raised a flag to denote that!

After this long day, I went for another little walk along the waterfront before a hugely strong thunderstorm set in. It drizzled while I walked and looked for little trinkets to bring back. I saw a group of folks dancing in a large square near some vendors, many with scarves and later fans in rhythmic motion. It was like a Chinese version of the Japanese “Obon” dance! Cool. I kept walking, wanting to reach the river, but the rain got stronger. I walked back to the hotel and got to a set of little food vendors on bicycles on the corner. These vendors have what turned out to be a little restaurant with stove, table, little stools, umbrella and storage, all on a bike! I ducked into a store and bought what looked like a Fanta but turned out to be an Energy drink. Yuck. Bad call. Just outside was a little place selling what looked to be kabobs but turned out to be bony, low-meat duck necks for 2 Yuan each! Next to it was another (yes, all in the rain) vendor selling corn on the cobs. I tried to tip her but she kept giving it back to me until she relented and finally just gave me an extra corn. This was my last meal in Jilin City. Breakfasts were particular to the region and not easily explained. Many components are acidic, sour and somewhat spicy. After a few days, I started skipping breakfast, as it seemed too much like an appetizer and I was quickly feeling moribund with the weight I was gaining. So, I bid adieu to Changchun and Northern China, and thanks to my hosts who graciously hoisted my nation's flag.

Next stop, Shanghai!