Anyway, check out this video to see what day one (yesterday) was like:

The competition is taking place in Riyuewan (Sun Moon Bay) on the eastern coast of the island, not too far from Sanya. And if you’re ever visiting Hainan, definitely check out the event’s organizer, Surfing Hainan, they offer very reasonably priced lessons, rentals and day trips.

See also: Hainan Riyuewan: The best surf beach in China

If being in the company of wild animals is a gradient; most Western zoos would be further towards “in the wild” and most Chinese zoos would be sitting much nearer the “waiting for slaughter” end of the spectrum.

However, after a very long, hot summer, the weather in Haikou is absolutely beautiful for getting out and doing some site-seeing. Conjuring up just enough cultural relativism to tuck away my misgivings and not ruin our son’s first trip to a zoo, we headed out.

The Haikou zoo is located in Golden Bull Mountain Park (金牛岭公园）Haikou’s largest park, pretty much dead-centre in the city. The entrance fee was 25RMB for adults and 10RMB for kids over 1.2m.

I’ve been to three zoos in my time in China: one in Jinzhou, a very small town that is essentially a suburb of Dalian; the Dalian Forest Zoo; and the Northeast Tiger Forest Park in Haerbin. The Jinzhou zoo was about what you’d expect for a 1RMB zoo in the corner of a small town’s central park. They had some shaggy camels, a bunch of hungry monkeys and one old sad-looking bear, which many years before had gotten loose and killed its keeper (but for a small zoo, apparently it was too valuable to euthanize). The Dalian Forest Zoo was actually pretty decent, and the tiger park was sad but impressive (watching a group of tigers take down a cow is something I’ll not soon forget).

The Haikou zoo fits somewhere between the Jinzhou zoo and the Dalian Forest Zoo. I was happy Casey had the opportunity to see these animals up close (though he was more interested in throwing leaves in the fish pond than marveling at the tigers), but it wasn’t without its sad moments. Sad as in, “awe *tear*” and sad as in “did you really stuff your dead giraffe rather than acquire a new one?”

Yep. The giraffe exhibit featured one large, semi-encased stuffed giraffe. Other surreal moments of the trip were seeing an exhibit of chickens and one of dogs. I kid you not, caged up in between monkeys were a random assortment of dogs (a pair of spaniels, two dalmatians, a German shepherd and a couple others). It’s weird, and maybe it’s because most of the more exotic animals I’ve only ever seen in cages, but seeing the dogs there was the most despairing bit of the day. It’s been pointed out to me that this is actually pretty common in Chinese zoos — even the Shanghai zoo features dogs.

Watching the monkey’s play in their big enclosure was entertaining. I’m not entirely sure why some monkeys got to play in a big “yard” (with stuff to swing on) and some were stuck in little cages. And while sobering to watch, being only a few feet from an absolutely massive tiger got my blood pumping. I will give that to Chinese zoos, they allow you a dangerous amount of proximity to the animals. The zoo also has a (pair?) of tiger cubs born last spring. We didn’t get much of a view of them, other than to glimpse one loudly grunting while chewing on a bone as a somewhat nervous-looking girl cleaned its cage.

I think it’s obvious from my description that I’m a bit torn in my feelings of the day. It was great to get out, great to show Casey animals he had until now only seen in animated form, and great to dust off my camera. Chinese zoos, however, make it tough to forget where most animals sit in the scheme of things here in China.

Photos

Here’s a partial collection of the animals. Notably missing are the hippo and the jaguar — neither were overly cooperative in getting their photo taken — and the snakes/crocodiles, as you had to pay extra to see them. From the entrance of the reptile area, all I could see were cages of chicks and bunnies. We assumed that would be a pretty quick way to ruin Casey’s zoo experience.

Haikou doesn’t have a Starbucks. Or at least according to rumours, doesn’t yet have a Starbucks. However, unlike the rest of China, and much like India and Thailand, we do have branches of Coffee World and Pizza Corner.

The downtown Guomao Coffee World and Pizza Corner was the first Western restaurant we were introduced to after moving down to Haikou. I’d never heard of the chains before, but was looking forward to sampling something not steamed, stir-fried or boiled, and I wasn’t let down. Their pizza, while not earth-shattering and a far cry from the ‘za of home, was more than enough to subdue my comfort food craving.

Unfortunately, its distance from where we live made it a bit of a non-starter for regular visits. I think other parents with young kids will sympathize; when it comes to eating out with a toddler, close to home tends to win out almost every time.

We’re fortunate that where we live in Haikou has a variety of decent Chinese restaurants, and one crappy “pizza” place. As such, I’ve not really been left wanting, with the exception of not having a good spot to get a Starbucks-style coffee nearby.

But now we do. Not 10 minutes from our place is a newly opened Coffee World location, on Haidian Dao’s Wuxi Lu. This morning Maggie, the boy and I decided to take the spot up on its offer of 2-for-1 waffles and see if it was any good. It was.

Prices are about on par with what you’d expect at a Starbucks — iced coffee drinks run 25 RMB (med) to 35 RMB (lrg), and the waffles range from 22 RMB (plain) to 30-ish RMB for fancier stuff. Our berry-covered waffles were 27 RMB (and two for one!). The location is small, much smaller than the downtown spot; and lacks a Pizza Corner, so food is limited to waffles, NY-style bagels, some wraps, pasta, and other simple stuff. But still, it’s a nice addition to the collection of restaurants in our “18-month-old-meltdown-must-run-home” radius.

I should mention that Coffee World isn’t the only Western-style coffee shop (not to be confused with the plethora of UBC clones on every corner). There is a cute café called Milli Coffee just around the corner from the downtown Coffee World, and a newly opened one a few doors down from the Coffee World by us on Haidian Dao. It’s the spot I want to love, but can’t.

Milli’s old-sofas and ambient interior have a bit more charm than Coffee World’s polished cookie-cutter chainishness. However, both times I’ve been there its staff seemed more interested in practicing invisibility than serving customers. What’s more, the drinks are over-priced, especially considering their decor couldn’t have cost more than a day’s worth of iced cappuccino sales. I have a hard time paying a premium to sit on dirty second-hand furniture in a dimly lit place — but that might just be me.

And it has no 2-for-1 waffles (at least until the end of the year). But maybe the near proximity of both locations will be for the betterment of both places, and ultimately us iced-drink lovers.

So Starbucks, this is just to say, we still want you to come to the island, but in making us wait you’re going to have some decent competition when you get here.

Nothing came. Day after day we had beautiful blue skies, fluffy white clouds and only short, scattered showers. Getting closer and closer to the end of September and still no rain, we thought maybe we skipped the rainy season this year.

But then a week ago typhoon Nesat hit, and it hasn’t stopped raining since. The 24-hour period from this Tuesday and Wednesday past saw more precipitation fall on the city than ever in recorded history (333mm). So yeah, we’re wet.

HAIKOU, Oct. 7 (Xinhua) — Heavy rains have flooded 57 villages and triggered excessive high water levels in six reservoirs as of Friday in Haikou, the capital of south China’s island province of Hainan.

Over 5,000 residents in the affected villages have been evacuated to schools and other temporary shelters, and the local government has distributed blankets and other relief materials.

The city has experienced record rainfall, receiving 236 mm of precipitation between Tuesday morning and Thursday afternoon, according to the city’s flood and drought prevention office.

Dozens of the city’s small- and medium-sized reservoirs are discharging water to ease pressure.

According to a provincial weather forecast, the downpours will continue to pound Haikou and other eastern areas in the province over the next two to three days.

This morning the rain had stopped (more, slowed to a sprinkle), and so I took Casey and Button out for our regular walk around the neighbourhood (read: chance for Maggie to sleep in). After dodging some large puddles and getting most of the way around the block without problem, we came across an odd scene. Two men were standing in the bike lane with a bucket, picking up fish.

Trying to puzzle out what was going as I walked past them, I then saw that the small pond/reservoir–that usually has at minimum 4-5 feet from surface to its concrete lip–was overflowing and the small minnows were swimming out with the stream and down the storm drains on the road.

In the first photo above you can see the water level nearest the foreground is about 12″ from the concrete edge, there is usually a 3-4 foot drop before the water here. The next photo shows where the edge drops down a bit, and where the water has begun to overflow.

We seem to be fortunate where we are though, as our friends Nicki and Erik are only a few blocks away and this is what the road outside their apartment looked like a couple days ago:

See more photos from Nicki and Erik here

As I write this, the rain has stopped, the road outside our apartment is drying and the sun is trying its best to make an appearance, so perhaps we’ve seen the worst of it. I love rain — the sound of it, the smell of it — and even these extremes haven’t really bothered me. But with a week of no sun and no dryer, I am quickly running out of dry clothes.

The first casualty of Nesat was our papaya tree, which had fallen before dawn yesterday. I say “our” papaya tree, as it’s right outside our kitchen window, but really it’s the community’s — a fact made ever evident by the endless stream of people who walk up and grab some unripe fruit while I’m washing dishes or preparing dinner.

The wind continued to pick up for most of yesterday until it hit hard mid-afternoon. Our water was shut off with little explanation, and while our power flickered the whole duration, friends of ours had their power completely cut off.

Here’s a little video shortly after the typhoon made landfall on the island, it got steadily worse for a couple hours after this:

Business Week: Typhoon Nesat, the strongest to hit China this year, forced the evacuation of 300,000 people, grounded flights and closed markets as it swept past Hong Kong, slammed into the Chinese island of Hainan and headed to Vietnam.

The typhoon, which killed at least 39 people in the Philippines earlier this week, made landfall in Hainan province at 2:30 p.m. local time yesterday with winds as fast as 151 kilometers (94 miles) an hour, the China Meteorological Administration said. In Hong Kong, the storm felled trees, ripped bamboo scaffolding from buildings and forced the city’s stock exchange to halt trading after the highest storm warning in two years was issued. Trading will resume today.

Shortly before dinner the wind died down, the rain stopped and everyone went outside to stretch their legs. The community was a mess. Bits of trees and random building stuff from the construction going on down the road were all over the place. Our community is full of purchased-but-not-lived-in apartments, and it appears someone’s window was left open, which caused a pane of glass to blow out and shatter all over the road.

Mild, by comparison, wind and rain returned after dinner but by late evening it was quiet again. This morning I took Casey and Button out for a walk around the neighbourhood, as is our routine, and was surprised at how much damage the typhoon had caused to the trees both in and around our community.

Here are some photos — apologies for the graininess, I only had my iPod with me:

The road in the photos above is a road a block or so away from our place. The road right outside our community was completely blocked off by fallen debris. I am guessing that most of the trees that have fallen are trees that have been planted for aesthetics, and perhaps aren’t local, or just didn’t have enough time to properly lay down roots. Interestingly, all the recently planted palm trees out on the newly constructed coastal road north of our community were still standing.

The clean-up crews are out in full-force, our water is trickling out of the tap now (unfortunately not quite strong enough to get hot water running, so cold showers for us), dragonflies are filling the air en masse, and the sun is doing its best to reappear.

Only 96 hours until Nalgae arrives.

As such, yesterday when the electricity went out shortly after we woke up, it wasn’t a huge surprise. I took the dog out, figuring it would be back on before I returned and I’d jump into the day’s task list. Getting back into the community a half hour later, I could hear a massive generator running from a maintenance building I had always assumed was empty.

A quick call (after a whole lot of busy signals) to the management office revealed that the power would be off for the next 12 hours, we should fill up what we can with water as the generator maintaining water pressure is only going to be running for a few hours — and didn’t we see the notice?

We had not.

Maggie, conveniently, had an appointment at the local CCDC to get Casey vaccinated against Chicken Pox, and so I was left to my thoughts of a post-apocalyptic world without power.

By about 10:30am I had finished the last audio book I had on my iPod, played nearly every song I could remember on guitar, and blown through the first few chapters of my Chinese study books (which had several years of dust layered on them) … and only 9 hours to go. The temperature was beginning to rise outside. No AC meant no A/C. I started to twitch.

The moment Maggie walked through the door with our now Chicken Pox-proof child, I desperately declared, “We’re going to the beach!”

If we were responsible people we’d keep a bag packed in case of an emergency. Instead, we always have a bag packed ready to go to the local pool. Adding a few beach-themed extras (sand toys, some sarongs to cover the loungers, etc.) we were off. Despite the beach being only a short bus trip away, this was the first time in a few months that we had bothered to go. The irony of the summer heat keeping me indoors and away from the sand and surf at my doorstep is not lost on me.

Sure enough, while walking out of the community to catch the bus, we noticed a big hand-written page indicating that the power would be off all day as the local government was performing some maintenance. This beach day is brought you by the letters C, P and C.

The beach looked much as it did the last time we visited, but the water was much warmer. In my prior post about Haikou’s Holiday Beach, I compared the water temperature to being about the same that of the Great Lakes in the summer — fine once in, but ball-tuckingly chilly at first. Now, after a summer of sun had warmed it up, the water was much more comparable to the tropical waters of SE Asia I would expect here on Hainan.

The warmer temps didn’t do much to improve Casey’s apprehension of the waves however, and he was much more content splashing along the shore and playing in the sand rather than being in the rise and fall of the deeper water.

One of the things I often wonder, when sitting in the beach lounger with not much else to do but wonder, is where the people enjoying Holiday Beach are from. Are they residents like Maggie and myself, or locals, or holidaymakers that couldn’t afford the puffed up prices further down the coast in Sanya?

At a cost of 30 RMB (about $5), the loungers tend to be more vacant than full, and so I’ve only ever had opportunity to speak with one group of beach goers. They were an older couple from Xinjiang visiting their son who was attending the local university. That kid got it right choosing a university that was both very far away from his family and on a tropical island. Unlike Sanya’s virtually all-tourist makeup, I imagine that Haikou’s beaches are a bit more diverse in who ends up on them.

A few beers, some chuar, and a whole lot of sand later; we caught a taxi home a bit pinker than when we arrived. Yesterday made me realize that I need to try harder to routinely disconnect from my computer and the Internet. It’s a shame that I let the close proximity of the beach be an excuse for shelving going to it more often. The pool might be closer and less “public”, but there’s nothing quite like killing a Friday afternoon with a cold beer in hand and sand between the toes.

I’ll be keeping my eye on the community board for notice of my next forced beach day. I’m looking forward to it.

Casey Playing in the Sand

I’d have to be more than a bit ignorant to move to a tropical island and not expect to cohabitate with the creepy crawlies, but it doesn’t disturb me any less. For the most part though, Haikou isn’t too bad. I’m sure there is a six-legged sea of ‘sects just waiting for me outside the city, but here among the concrete and tile, it’s relatively calm.

But though we live in a new apartment, and it appears to my untrained eye as well-sealed; drop a piece of food (a 15-month-old does little but), and within seconds a ration line of ants has formed with a tin cup and bowl. Leave some fruit out for more than a few minutes and a squadron of fruit flies gather — their tiny little wings a buzzing cadence that if you listen closely enough sounds like Ride of the Valkyries.

Our nightly R&R in front of the TV is routinely interrupted when a big fat flying beetle dive bombs our thought-to-be-secure position on the sofa.

Twice now I’ve been sitting, again in front of the TV, and felt a tickle on my neck and arm. Absentmindedly scratching while hypnotized by Gordon Ramsey’s red-faced rants on Hell’s Kitchen, I was startled to come away with a hand full of legs from a millipede that had made its way up the back of the couch.

Moths, glowbugs, bright-green clingy beetles and a hodge-podge collection of other insects have also sought refuge in our ground-floor apartment.

Spiders of various sizes and behaviors also are common guests, but you know the old saying — the blood-sucking predator of my enemy is my friend (geckos fit in this category as well — really, the more endoskeleton allies I can amass, the better).

But then there’s the f’ing cockroaches. They’re frequent, they’re resilient and they’re massive. I know they’re relatively harmless, but there’s no quicker way to get my arm hairs on end than to catch one of these little suckers speedily crawling through my peripheral vision.

We’ve had roaches in a couple apartments here in China, and they’ve always been the little 1″ long guys. They don’t much bother me. However, something changes when a bug gets to the size where I can hear it walking across the floor.

It’s funny how quickly my otherwise quite rational mind melts and flushes out of my skull with a chill when I see these 3″ long, winged critters scurry across the kitchen, out of the bathroom, or up the bedroom wardrobe. Somewhat remarkably, all of that I’m learning to handle with a bit of grace and a well-wielded shoe.

This morning, however, brought a new level of violation. As is our a.m. routine, I hang out with Casey and a crinkled collection of flashcards on our bed while Maggie heads to our en suite bathroom to brush her teeth. This morning she was in the bathroom for a minute or two when I heard her startled shout. It’s the same noise she makes when she sees everything from an ant to an elephant, so tough to judge.

“What’s up?” I mutter.

“There’s a cockroach in our toothbrush mug!”

Apparently mid-brushing she noticed the critter hanging out at the bottom of the cup we put our toothbrushes in. We’re not talking about a little bug at the bottom of a cup — the thing nearly filled the mug. As is her way with such things, Maggie calmly left the bathroom as if it had been handled (even returning her toothbrush to the overly-occupied cup) and expressed in no uncertain tones that I would need to man up and take care of it.

Two toothbrushes in the trash, a cockroach in the toilet (two flushes, just to be sure), and a VERY well-scrubbed mug later; I’m now officially at war with the sonsofbitches. Mess with my house, mess with my family, but do not fucking mess with my toothbrush.

I know it’s a battle I can’t win. I know that they gather in the walls, drains and other dark cool corners plotting. I know that it’s only a matter of time before one induces the purchase of plane tickets when it finds its way into the mosquito tent that covers our bed. But I’ll be ready. They may be fast and gross and able to survive a nuclear holocaust — but I have pretty big feet. And while this post may work to disprove the idea that a man with big feet has equally big manhood — he does have big shoes. Bring it, fuckers.

When I mention to people in China that I live on Hainan I almost always get a, “Really? that must be great.” And it is. Everything that sold us on moving down here this past March has held its shine. Similarly, the things we steeled ourselves against are also ever present — one of the largest being the unrelenting heat.

Summer in Haikou is hot. Damn hot! But, and this is a bit surprising, it’s cooler than summer in Suzhou/Shanghai.

I can only chock it up to the unrelenting weirdness of China that I can travel 1200 KM south and find cooler weather (and, obviously, not be in the southern hemisphere).

As I’m sure is true with most who move to tropical islands, we migrated here for the environment and the weather. I’ve never been a fan of extremes in temperature, and after half a decade I couldn’t imagine going through another cycle of Suzhou’s bi-polar seasons — hotter than tropical-island-hot in summer and freezing (literally, as there is usually snow) winters. To be fair to the city, Suzhou does have very pleasant spring and autumn periods, all three weeks of them.

In a lot of ways Haikou’s summer is similar to Suzhou’s. Extreme heat with extreme humidity. Where Haikou pulls ahead (in addition to that couple of degrees less of mercury) is that we have the beach, and swimming pools, and lots of sunshine. Suzhou gains most of its summer heat by trapping it in a mass of grey that near-permanently covers the city, Haikou gets its heat from brilliant blue skies and a whole lot of sun. Though the temperature result is the same, emotionally, I’ll take the sunshine every time.

Moving here on the wrong end of summer, the other thing we prepared ourselves for was the rainy/typhoon season. Running from April to October, we’re smack in the middle of it, but according to Wikipedia, the worst of it arrives August-September. Aside from a few full-on rainy days, so far the “rainy season” has amounted to a clockwork-like shower in the mid/late afternoon and sun the rest of the time. If two months of damp is the price we pay, I still think we’re getting a bargain.

While later today Canada will be celebrating its own anniversary with fireworks, BBQ and a whole lot of drinking; in China it’s all about the Communist Party of China’s 90th anniversary.

Not one to shy away from the spirit of things, I figured it was an excellent time to showcase one of Hainan’s most well known group of folk heroes — the Red Detachment of Women — best known for the series of ballets their story has inspired.

The Red Detachment of Women (simplified Chinese: 红色娘子军; pinyin: Hóngsè Niángzǐjūn) is a Chinese ballet which premiered in 1964. It is perhaps best known in the West as the ballet performed for U.S. President Richard Nixon on his visit to China in February 1972. Adapted from the earlier film of the same title under the personal direction of Zhou Enlai, which in turn adapted from the novel by Liang Xin, it depicts the liberation of a peasant girl in Hainan Island and her rise in the Chinese Communist Party.

The novel was based on the true stories of 100+ member strong all-female Special Company of the 2nd Independent Division of Chinese Red Army, first formed in May, 1931. As the communist base in Hainan was destroyed by the nationalists, most of members of the female detachment survived, partially because they were women and easier to hide among the local populace who were sympathetic to their cause. After the communist victory in China, the representatives of the surviving members were taken to Beijing and personally inspected and praised by Mao Zedong. Most of these surviving members currently reside in the city of Qionghai (84 survivors in 1994, 23 in 2001, 14 in 2008).

That Hainan’s most well-known and loved revolutionary heroes are a group of women is not at all surprising to me. The simple truth is that by China-wide comparison, Hainan men have to be the laziest bunch of y-chromosome carriers in the country. The women here are work horses, and are more often the ones you see doing the most physical of labour while their husbands and brothers sit in the shade of a nearby palm.

A case in point — a road was recently just built along the northern edge of the island district I live on. Now nearly finished, it provides a great view of the Qiongzhou Strait that runs between Hainan and the mainland. For three months I’ve watched the transformation of the road from a dirty construction site to a palm- and flower-lined street that’s great to wander down. And in that time I’ve seen women do virtually all the heavy manual labour while the male positions seemed limited to operating the large crane for hoisting up the palm trees (the women did all the tree positioning, hole digging and planting) and standing and staring supervising.

Interestingly enough, along this same stretch of road is a monument to the Communists resistance/defeat of the Nationalists here (there’s no actual mention on the monument of “who” was fighting — but it’s obvious from its absence that it relates to the Chinese civil war).

So happy anniversary CPC — may the next 90 be much better than the last.

You can watch the whole ballet/film for the Red Detachment of Women here.

(h/t Study More Chinese)