On the day after our arrival in Dengfeng, we visited the Shaolin Temple, courtesy of Mayor B with Dr. X as our guide. Despite the warnings I had, I still retained mental images of strolling through vast, dusty courtyards with the sound of monks training floating from the distance. What we found was thronging crowds of tourists from all over the world cluttering every nook and corner of the Shaolin Temple such that it was nearly impossible to take a single picture without catching some tourist in your picture. Of course, we took the obligatory tourist picture with Dr. X at the entrance.

As part of our project, we originally planned to study with the Shaolin monks to understand Shaolin medicine in addition to the more mainstream traditional Chinese medicine. We hoped Dr. X would be able to arrange for us to meet with some of the Shaolin medicine practitioners, as he was the Abbot’s personal physician. When we actually visited the Shaolin Temple, however, the extreme commercialism of the place and just how much we were like any other tourist provided the first hints that things may not go as we had envisioned.

As one of the first stops on our tour, we went to the Shaolin pharmacy, where Chinese herbs were stored in cabinets and weighed out by monks in training.

And they had this cool looking dude with meridians and acupoints marked on him, a standard of TCM dummy models.

We also saw a clinic where some monks were lying down for some acupuncture treatment. Unfortunately, Dr. X could not arrange for us to meet with the necessary people, and he did not really explain why. Nan and I were doubtless disappointed, but we slowly understood that there were many complicated reasons behind this, including the ambiguous relationship between the Dengfeng government and the Shaolin Temple. So… goal number one shot down, but our little brains were already churning out alternatives at this point.

Now, our guide Dr. X had a little bit of history with the Shaolin Temple. Like many young men raised in Dengfeng, he trained at the Shaolin Temple as a youth. Not only is he the personal doctor of the Shaolin Abbott, he has also worked in the Shaolin Pharmacy before. Dr. X explained a bit of the recent history of the Shaolin Temple and Shaolin medicine. In ancient times, the Shaolin monks trained in medicine because 1) they trained in combat wushu and needed to know how to treat wounds and 2) as Buddhists, they believed in the spirit of helping others and thus provided medical services to others. However, in the lost years of the Cultural Revolution, almost all of the monks were forced to return to their homes, and only a couple of monks remained at the temple. When Deng Xiaoping reopened the Shaolin Temple, not all the monks returned, and those who did tried to pass down their knowledge by mouth to the incoming generation. When Dr. X used to work at the Shaolin Temple, he worked with some of the old monks to compile and organize their medical knowledge. Right now, the Shaolin Temple is still in the process of organizing past knowledge. In terms of practitioners of Shaolin medicine, there are people in the Shaolin pharmacy that opened a few years ago, but they often only stay for a year or so, and their knowledge is not complete. So, even if we had gotten access to the Shaolin Temple, it is dubious what depth we would have been able to achieve.


Dengfeng was where we spent the first week of our adventures. It is a township in Henan province, an approximately 1.5 hour bus ride from Zhengzhou, the capital of Henan (the bus ride we could have taken 3 times while waiting for Dr. Xu to show up at the train station). This small town of about 60,000 people is located at the foot of the Songshan Mountains, one of the five major mountains in China. Dengfeng is the town closest to the Shaolin Temple, about a 20 minute ride away. The Shaolin Temple is considered the birthplace of kungfu. We stayed in a 3 star hotel that didn’t feel like a 3 star hotel.

The sky was perpetually foggy like this.

The rooms were undecorated and visibly old, with peeling paint, off-white sheets, and stained carpets. I think because Dengfeng is located in a slight basin like area at the foot of the mountain, it was extremely humid. When we washed our clothes and wrung them out as hard as we could, they would still take 3 days to dry. The welcome notes in our room were bilingual-in Mandarin and Engrish.


The Engrish notes were prepared because many foreigners, in addition to native Chinese, visit Dengfeng for the Shaolin Temple. In the hotel’s restaurant-a buffet-style cafeteria-just about the same selection is offered every day. After a few days, both Nan and I were pretty sick of the food. However, we noted interestedly that on the one day when a large group of white tourists visited, the quality of the food improved and the number of service attendants in the cafeteria almost doubled. Hmmm…

When Dr. Xu took us on a brief car tour around Dengfeng, we saw dinky little storefronts inside the town, where all the store signs looked the same-white, blocky words on some faded picture background. In fact, it looked like many stores went to the same printer to make their signs, as this one picture of a girl in pink was used repeatedly by a variety of stores.

The ubiquitous pink girl

As we circled around the outskirts of the town, however, we saw massive multi-building complexes that surround gigantic plaza that were dotted with figures training for martial arts. There are, I believe, 50 or so kungfu schools in Dengfeng, all of them attracting tens of thousands of students from all over China and abroad. (In comparison, there are only 3 hospitals.) One would think that it is silly for all these similar schools to flock to one place, increasing competition for each other. However, there is a saying in Chinese “Zhong guo wu shu chu zhong yuan,” which translates to “Chinese martial arts originates in the central plain” (ie Henan). There seems to be a sentiment that if a school is not located near Shaolin, it is not authentic. This small town of Dengfeng has been able to grow and thrive recently due to the great number of tourists to the Shaolin Temple and students to their various kungfu schools.

First Encounters

If life were a play (someone more famous than me put it in better words :P), then this is the script of our trip from Shanghai to Zhengzhou

Setting: Shanghai railway station, noisy, afternoon temperature in the 90s and humidity making it worse….
Characters: Li-Wen, Nan, Nan’s Aunt & Uncle who are escorting Nan and Li-Wen

Li-Wen: WHAT?! The train isn’t here yet? Why are we standing on the platform and what are these train cars doing here? [Fans herself exhaustively as she just finished dragging two 40 lb each suitcases down two flights of stairs]
Nan: [Panting, as she has just lugged one suitcase of 30 lbs down two flights of stairs]
Aunt: Let’s see if we can put our stuff on the train cars first…Wait, why isn’t the air conditioning on yet?
[Goes and asks train personnel]
“Oh, it won’t be on until the train arrives?”
Nan and Li-Wen: [dying of heat, waiting for the air conditioning to be turned on]
Uncle: [Typical stoic Chinese man who has lugged Nan’s other suitcase of 50 lbs down two flights of stairs]

Setting: The characters have arrived at Zhengzhou railway station after an overnight train ride, Li-Wen is calling Dr. X to see where he is as they’ve arranged to meet here at 7:30 am.

Li-Wen: Oh, you’ll be in in another half an hour?  Okay, he said he’ll be there in half an hour.  What would you guys like to do?
Aunt: Let’s go elsewhere to wait, and store our luggage in the train station. Ah, there’s a KFC over there, let’s go get something to eat.

Setting: KFC.  It’s been an hour.  Nan’s turn to call Dr. X to see where he is.

Nan: Oh, so you’ll be here around 11:30? Wait, didn’t you say earlier it was just going to be half an hour?  Oh, the tire’s out?  Okay, we’ll see you then.  Please call us if you’re going to be delayed further.
Li-Wen:  [looks equally as murderous as Nan]
Aunt: Why don’t we tour the city? We have quite a bit of time.
Uncle: [Sighs and continues to stoically bear the drama]

Setting: Random restaurant after a stroll in the downtown park. Li-Wen’s turn to call Dr. X who reports that he’ll be coming in in half an hour. The characters then drag themselves back to the train station.
Aunt: Are you guys going to be okay here for the next couple of weeks?
Nan and Li-Wen: I’m sure we will be fine!

Setting: Zhengzhou train station, noon time.
Dr. X: Hi guys!  Sorry about this!  The tire on the car blew out and we had to get it fixed.  We’re going to Dengfeng by bus. Please follow me.
Nan: Wait, I thought we were going by car originally?
Dr. X: Well I had to change plans when I found out your uncle and aunt were coming.
Nan: Oh, sorry about any inconvenience. I thought I made it clear on the phone that my aunt and uncle is escorting us here just for a couple of days…

Setting: Hotel in Dengfeng, afternoon
Dr. X: So Mayor B. will stop by whenever he can and then you guys can meet him.
Nan: When is he stopping by?
Dr. X: Probably this evening after dinner; he’s a really busy guy.  He’ll stop by when he can.
Nan: Oh okay.  Let’s go back to our room then and rest until then.
Aunt: We’re right across the hallway from you guys.  Let us know if you need anything.
Li-Wen: Hmm, I’m not tired.  I’ll do some stuff that I need to do.

[An hour passes, there is a knock on the door. Thinking it is probably Aunt, Li-Wen opens the door dressed in t-shirt, short shorts, holding her soggy socks that she had been hand-washing]

Dr. X: Hello! Mayor B. is here!  Come over and meet him.
Li-Wen: …
Dr. X: Let’s go!
Li-Wen: Er Nan’s asleep though, let me wake her up and we’ll be right over.
Dr. X: Oh that’s okay, she can meet him later.  Come with me. [almost drags Li-Wen out the door before she could drop her socks on the floor]


And that is how all the major characters for the next couple of weeks were introduced.  To clarify, Dr. X was our guide for local attractions and local medicine in Dengfeng as he was the personal physician for the abbot of the Shaolin Temple; he also introduced us to the doctor we would later study with in Zhengzhou. Mayor B. was our official host during our time in both Dengfeng and Zhengzhou and was the one who made everything happen.  We hoped at the beginning that he could help us gain access to the Shaolin Temple monks and that we could learn more about Shaolin medicine (one of our original project purposes).  However, it didn’t exactly work out that way as we never got a chance to meet the abbot.  Our original plan quickly got cut down to one week in Dengfeng, where we’d visit local hospitals, three weeks in Zhengzhou where we’d be visiting the an university hospital as well as shadowing Dr. C.  More details up ahead.

Mini-bios updated

The About page has been updated with our mini-bios. And since it would be too boring to write our own, we wrote each others’ 😉

Since I have never been to China before, one of my first tasks when I arrived in Shanghai was, of course, to evaluate China and its people via Shanghai. First of all, always having felt bad about the hostile stereotypes of China and Chinese people that I’ve grown up hearing from older Taiwanese relatives, I was a little surprised when Nan agreed with many of them-louder, ruder, dirtier, unsafe, etc. Many of my first impressions confirmed the milder of the negative stereotypes I’ve heard. People generally sound louder and ruder, as if they’re arguing even though they’re just talking (I realize this is more true for the Shanghainese). There was a different set of social propriety and a lack of service attitude. People said please and thank you less, and service personnel (store attendants, waiters, etc) generally do not have a very professional appearance or attitude.

In many conversations about characteristics and stereotypes of the Chinese through the eyes of the Taiwanese, I found a really interesting asymmetry. While for the Taiwanese, the presence of China always looms strongly in our consciousness, the presence of Taiwan seems insignificant in the minds of most Chinese people. When I asked Nan what stereotypes of Taiwanese people her Chinese friends and family have, she answered, “Sorry, we just don’t talk much about you guys.”

My various first impressions of China (via Shanghai) can be summed up by this: the close juxtaposition of disparate qualities. Initially, around the suburb area where we stayed, I was often jolted by the inconsistency between a face etched with exhaustion and years of hardship while their clothes were young and modern. Other times, I was taken aback by the dinginess of the clothing that people wore into public. Oral health and skin care were dreadfully lacking, adding to the general lack of attractiveness. Many people’s teeth were crooked, stained, with gums that have receded to reveal part of the tooth root. Many people, especially the older generation, looked like peasants who had been sloppily transplanted into a metropolis. These negative impressions of how Chinese people look were quickly modified as I ventured into the tourist attractions and upscale shopping areas of Shanghai, such as Xintiandi, where Nan and I battled with giant chess pieces.


In such places, people dressed better and looked better, and foreigners abounded. In comparison, my plain, solid-colored American clothes looked dingy and sloppy. At Nanjing Lu, one of the most visited tourist shopping streets, we were wowed by the delectable displays at a fancy Haagen Dazs store. We were also tickled to find that apparently you can sell ice cream with sex ;).


While all big cities will inevitably have areas of affluence and poverty and everything in between, I perceived more immediate intersections between these different qualities in Shanghai than I had seen elsewhere (of course, this conclusion is based on my limited experiences). For example, even in the upscale, touristy places, you can still catches glimpses of backwardness. In a bookstore on Nanjing Lu, there was a lot of obviously pirated multimedia. Amusingly, I saw an elementary school workbook sporting a cover picture of Card Captor Sakura (Japanese comic character created by CLAMP), but a Chinese name was listed after “cover design.” This juxtaposition of disparities was echoed again when we rode the train out from Shanghai to our next stop, Zhengzhou. A mere five minutes out from the forests of glistening skyscrapers in Shanghai, the scenery out the window changed quickly to scenes of poverty. I saw many clumps of huts or small boats seemingly put together with wooden boards, tattered rags, and garbage bags.


I can only guess that perhaps the drastic (and very impressive) changes that China has undergone in the past 30 or so years have left many people struggling the wake of rapid expansion and modernization. Some live in poverty in the outskirts of, and even inside, the modern city. Some learn to grow old in a city after life in the countryside, like the elderly passengers on the subway whose physical appearance look like farmers, yet they wear badly-fitted suits. Others take advantage of the gaps and loopholes left open by rapid modernization to make a living, such as by piracy. It’s easy to judge China based solely on its vices we hear in the news-rampant piracy, economic disparity, pollution-but one must evaluate the vices with acknowledgment of how far it has come. The question now is, would China be able to mend these gaps left open by its rapid growth? Would ALL of its people be able to adjust to and benefit from its rapid changes?


If anyone asked me what Shanghai was like when I visited before, my 12-year old version would immediately make a face and say it was very dirty, smelly and was always cloudy. Shanghai is still very much like that, but the first impressions aren’t that simple anymore, especially when one has to try to live there for a bit of time.

The easy bits: Shanghai is always changing with more high rises, more KFCs, more Chinese-speaking foreigners, people are louder than before and the list goes on. The harder bits to see are the slow change of social institutions and environment — poorly-constructed healthcare system, few allowed-NGOs, the gaping disparity of wealth, the extremely competitive and sometimes madly-insane educational system, etc. Just a preview of the stuff that we’ll touch on in later posts.

On the day-to-day stuff, a lot of what I consider simple things in the US were a hassle in China. During our first week in Shanghai, we had to get a cell phone (so that our parents could bother us at their pleasure) and open a bank account (so that we can spend money like the girls we are). Luckily, my Shanghainese cousin accompanied us which meant that we got slightly better treatment than we would have had otherwise. Although we’ve met a lot of nice Shanghainese people, I felt that in terms of the service industry, it’s better to speak Shanghainese so that people know that you’re 1) native Shanghainese and 2) by extension, won’t tolerate any crap.

Anyways, in terms of China cell phone plans – most people pay as they go. However, we were going to be traveling all over China which meant we’d have to change our SIM card (and hence our telephone number) everywhere that we went. The service agent wasn’t helpful, and her attitude bordered on apathy. So it was a frustrating experience as we realized that we had to sign up for the China-world plan which meant paying much more than the first plan, but it allowed us flexibility in that we didn’t have to change cell phone numbers constantly (and this turned out to be a really good idea). The fun part was that we got to choose our cell phone numbers. If you want a cell phone number with the number eight, or six, it costs more. I think in the Szechuan region, the number of 8888-8888 sold to a business costed upwards of 200,000 kuai.

Opening a bank account was easier: fill out a form, deposit money, and remember to always bring your passport! However, one always must keep in mind that there are crazy lines everywhere, and that day was no exception. We waited thirty minutes, which wasn’t bad at all considering the long wait times that we had for other things in China.

So, in summary, first week in Shanghai went relatively well. It was a good adjustment week given that we were going to be staying here for a minimum of 4 months in China. Of course, our stomachs rebelled (especially mine), but in general, we got what needed to be done done and even got to tour some of Shanghai’s famous haunts plus treat our stomachs to some excellent and cheap food…

What were we going to do and what were we trying to accomplish? We started tackling this idea in early February. Neither of us knew much about traditional Chinese medicine (TCM), much less Shaolin medicine. Both of us had experience with family members using it, but beyond some general ideas, I didn’t really know anything about it. The easiest thing to do when confused is bother nice people. We had a few mentors, including our professor of sociology and, of course, the people who were coordinating this project, that is, Master YL and Dr. SP. We picked the brains of such professors, aka their books, including the Patients and Healers book better known as the “green book that neither of us really finished”.

Lots of meetings, missed deadlines, and cups of coffee later, we narrowed down our general idea of researching TCM from an anthropological point of view to specifically understanding the process in which patients make their decisions in selecting health care, the nature of patient-healer relationships, and perhaps a comparison with Western medicine.* Next was the the issue of money. We both applied for fellowships with a different perspective of what we wanted. Li-Wen wanted to stay in China for about 4 months but then had to come back to the US for several months to do medical school interviews while I intended to stay for one year. After this issue was resolved in mid April, it was back to the drawing board.

Before school ended, our drawing board of logistics looked like a five-year old with ADD had gone through it**. Our formal hosts for this project was the city government of Dengfeng and Mayor B with YL as our middle person. We called the Shaolin contacts to ask them questions regarding their background and get a feel for what they thought of our project. Due to language barriers, differences in expectations, and added to that, a lack of experience in negotiating with our sponsors, we didn’t really feel that we got what we wanted from our sponsors, that is a clear idea of what they could provide in terms of logistics and support. After we graduated in June***, both of us went back to our respective states and began planning more of the logistics. As mentioned before, we still weren’t sure what our hosts were providing in terms of lodging and transportation. We also both did more background research into TCM to try to get a grasp of what we were getting into.

Despite our long-distance practically-email relationship, I think it went well between the two of us in terms of coordinating things to ask and such in the 1.5 months that we had. We also kept in steady communications with YL who acted as a middle man in most of these exchanges. However, it didn’t work so well across the ocean, as I think that in retrospct, our sponsors were just as unprepared for this first exchange as we were. Our planned time of four**** months in Dengfeng got rapidly shortened to three weeks a couple of weeks before we were set to leave in mid July. To end a short this-is-a-long-story, during the conversations with our hosts, our unanswered questions about basic logistics and our mothers’ increasing concerns as a result of that made both sides realize that our expectations were higher than our hosts were prepared to handle. Somehow, by this time, the date for our departure had arrived. We were ready to go and we remained optimistic and hoped that things would work out once we got to Dengfeng, China.

* Understatement #1 – as Li-Wen frankly puts it, “what a condensation of the crap we waded through!”
** Understatement #2
*** We graduated? No way!
**** Thanks to Li-Wen for pointing this out. I’d already forgotten that it started out as four months.