Charlotte Howard's travel story

I knew very little about China before moving to Beijing. I expected pollution, dirt, greed, and a group of people that would be difficult to relate to. I set out to succeed professionally, but never foresaw developing such an appreciation for the country. I arrived on July 5th, almost one month exactly before the 2008 Olympic Games. I was amazed to see not only the city in the midst of rapid preparations, clean sidewalks, immense new structures, but also the people eagerly united for the momentous occasion. This was my first glimpse at the energy, urgency, and united passion to move forward that is unique to Beijing. For me, living in Paris was an appreciation of the past and its history. In many ways, to live in Beijing is to truly experience what is happening in the world right now, at this moment. In Beijing, you are fully immersed in a new culture, and in the ever-changing face of the world, today.

Charlotte Howard, host of Rediscovering China

In August, I was fortunate enough to travel throughout Northern China. My first trip outside of Beijing was to Inner Mongolia. This was the first time that the diversity of China’s landscape became apparent to me. Many westerners share a common misconception of China-- immense cities scattered with unpleasing skyscrapers and covered by clouds of dirt and pollution. Inner Mongolia was my first experience of China’s landscape. Stunning stretches of green grasslands with rising sunflowers and tents for beekeepers. We slept in a traditional yurt and enjoyed an evening show of Inner Mongolian music and dance, getting up ourselves to dance and sing around the fire.

After Inner Mongolia, I visited Xinjiang in China’s Northwest. We went to Heaven’s Lake outside Urumqi and to this moment, it is still one my most memorable experiences in China. My friends and I agreed to avoid the yurts along the lake and set off to hike into the back valleys. After several hours, we met a Kazakh family who offered to rent us horses and guide us up to their family’s yurt in the mountains. My horse was led by one of the Kazakh men, he held his reins in one hand, his arm secured a small baby nestled on the saddle in front of him, and a cigarette hung appropriately from his toothy grin. It had rained the night before clearing the already crisp air and making the landscape even more fresh and lush. We stumbled along the rocky paths going in and out of the stream that rushed down the mountains, cows lounged beside us, goats trotted away, and eagles filled the sky overhead. My only feeling was the horse cautiously trotting beneath me, and my eyes observing the water, moss, and livestock without the distraction of city noise. Knowing what was hidden in the mountain’s valleys, previously invisible from the mountain’s base, is an accomplished feeling that will stay with me beyond China.