The following post was written by Jan Heininger and Jamie Reuter, WildChina clients who traveled with us for two and half weeks in October of 2010.  Their journey took them through Beijing, Tibet, Yunnan Province. Guangxi Province, and finally to Hong Kong. This is the first of a series of articles he wrote detailing their experience.  We begin with their overall impression of China…

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Some people come away saying they “loved” China.  We didn’t.  Don’t get me wrong.  This was a great trip.  China was fascinating.  It had beautiful scenery.  It had lots of history and culture.  We had many very unique experiences.  Tibet was wonderful.  We saw the Forbidden City and the Great Wall.  We saw amazing scenery including the karst mountains in the Li River valley.  We saw and experienced (in our own way) the spirituality of Tibet and China.  We visited towns and areas still dominated by minority populations and tribes.  We had, alas, only a few great meals but we stayed in a number of really outstanding hotels.  We had excellent guides and drivers who gave us meaningful insights into China, its history, its culture and its peoples.  We came away with a much greater appreciation for how some of the more recent aspects of Chinese history (end of the empire, Mao, the Cultural Revolution and the change to the “new economy”) have molded how people live their lives today.  We walked through “old towns” and markets established a thousand years ago.  We got a better understanding of how life works under central control.  But we didn’t “love it.”  We were fascinated.  We will go back to visit other areas of the country.  We were thrilled with our tour company and will use them again.  But we weren’t seduced by the country’s charms.

Part of our difficulties was due to the constant and sometimes overwhelming presence of Chinese tourists.  Chinese tourists are an odd group and not terribly accommodating or pleasant from a westerner’s perspective.  According to conversations with several people, Chinese tourists are less interested in seeing, learning and understanding, and much more interested in taking home pictures of themselves and cheap souvenir gifts to “prove” they had been to the big city and seen the elephant (so to speak).  In the context of China’s economic growth and the spread of wealth down into the middle classes and rural communities, millions of these tourists are on their initial trips out of their local communities.  They smoke a lot.  They spit.  They talk, stand up or even walk around during performances.  They push and shove to get to the front of a line – a survival skill, no doubt, in a country with 1.3 billion people.  In small numbers (anything less than several thousand), they are no worse than any other population of large groups discharging from parked ranks of tour buses.  You ignore their presence and carry on.  But for some reason, we were flooded with them.  Clearly, it was worst in Beijing, and our experience there may have made us hypersensitive to the issue throughout the remainder of the trip.  But our guides uniformly reflected on how they were seeing substantially many more national tourists than expected.  In prior years, the number of Chinese tourists had substantially diminished following their big national holiday (October 1).  This year, they just kept coming.  As an early example, I expected Tiananmen Square to be this huge, open square, just like the pictures I’ve seen.  Instead, all we could see were the heads of tens of thousands of tourists jamming an open space between a few monumental marble structures.  There was a 4-6 hour wait to get into Mao’s tomb (we skipped it).  Given the number of people present, the square itself didn’t even seem all that big.  For communities all across China, hanging out a “UNESCO Site” sign means you’re guaranteed millions of dollars of revenue from tens of thousands of Chinese tourists jamming little historic streets lined with shops selling plastic crap and cheap reproductions (mostly made in Viet Nam).  You can’t fault the Chinese for wanting to visit the hotspots within their own country.  But their numbers and manner definitely reduced our enjoyment and, in some cases our appreciation, for particular sights or experiences.

 
Second, China is clearly struggling with the size of its population, the extraordinary rate of growth in its economy and the rapid changes that are occurring in its distribution of wealth.  Improvements in their infrastructure (highways and airports in our experiences) just can’t keep up.  So in any largish city (and a country this size has lots and lots of cities with 5-10 million people), traffic jams, litter, pollution, clean water, lack of functional sewer systems, crowded public transport, crowded airports and disruptions due to construction are real problems.  I saw more Ferraris in Beijing in 3 days than I’ve seen in Washington D.C. in 30 years.  But most of them probably never get out of 1st gear due to the endless traffic jams there.  They’re like enormous pinkie rings, serving only to demonstrate the wealth of their owners.  Our trip included many, many hours in cars and vans averaging anywhere from 10-20 kilometers per hour – both in urban areas and while driving between rural towns.  Most tourist areas are struggling to deal with the explosion of tourism by Chinese nationals and foreigners, and some sites are, frankly, failing.  For example, we had to stand around for 15-20 minutes waiting for our guide to purchase tickets to get into the Forbidden City.  There was no way to pre-purchase tickets to get into sites.  And it wasn’t just for our small group of two.  Even the large groups stood around waiting, increasing the sense of congestion and crowding around key sites.  They just haven’t learned the secrets of how to move people along.
Finally (and there’s no polite way to say this) but…  Squat toilets were not our favorite Chinese experience.  Particularly when there aren’t any doors or walls between the “stalls.”  And you’d better bring your own toilet paper because you won’t find any outside of luxury hotels and airports (and even some of the airports only had squat toilets.)
I remember when my Grandmother Miller visited us in Germany back in the 1960’s and said something like “Germany would be a great place if it just wasn’t so full of foreigners.”  That’s been an inside, Reuter family joke for years.  I am very uncomfortable with the fact that my feelings about our China trip include even a tiny hint of this incredibly ethno-centric view.  I really do believe that I’m much more cosmopolitan than that.  But it can’t be argued that in the end, we just didn’t really “love” China as a country, and these were some of the reasons why.

Our tour company was WildChina.  We could never say enough wonderful things about how well they actually performed.  They provided everything promised, including cars and beds big enough for Jamie.  Their guides were terrific: very helpful, informed and flexible.  While dealing with our early arrival is the best example of their flexibility, we regularly had conversations with our guides about the various options we had for spending a day.  They quickly picked up on our desire to skip the obvious and crowded and go for things that were more unusual and interesting.  They knew where the shops with “quality” goods were, and took us there.  They were very open about their own lives and experiences.  They taught us a lot about what it was like to live in the “new China.”  We highly recommend WildChina to anyone planning a trip there.  They will work with you to create the type of trip you want, and then deliver it.  A very good friend of ours, who has travelled extensively, went on a 12 day trip to Yunnan, departing two days after we returned, and spent time in many of the same places we visited.  She used one of the “usual” tour companies.  The contrast between the two trips was remarkable.  If you’re going to China, use WildChina.

 
Weather wise, we sort of lucked out.  The rainy season was supposed to have ended.  But everyone kept talking about how weather patterns had been delayed this year and that we were still in the tail end of the rainy season.  Weather.com kept predicting rain – with daily precipitation probabilities ranging from 60-80% for weeks at a time.  In reality, we had serious rain for only two days: one in Beijing (when we visited the Summer Palace and Temple of Heaven in our rain gear and under umbrellas) and one in Kunming (when a break in a steady rain let us wander around the Stone Forest without get too wet).  On the other hand, it was generally cloudy, overcast and about 10 degrees (Fahrenheit) colder than we expected.  While Jamie never put on his wool cap and gloves, he only wore his shorts and polo shirts after we got to Hong Kong.  Jan packed too many shirts with three-quarter sleeves and was stuck wearing her 2 long sleeve shirts day after day after day.  Neither of us even got close to putting on our bathing suits.

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Stay tuned for more tales from Ms. Heininger & Mr. Reuter’s journey.  For more information about the destinations they visited, check out our destinations map here.

Sometimes all it takes is an unexpected moment – a snapshot of daily life – that brings a trip into focus.

I witnessed such a moment during recent travels in Baibi village, an isolated Miao community outside of Kaili in Guizhou province. The largest ethnic minority in this rugged southwestern province, the colorfully clad Miao people have a reputation for kindness, hospitality, and gregariousness.

I spent three days in Baibi working on a community service project with a spirited and driven group of high school students from Hong Kong. We built a retaining wall out of concrete around the edge of a rice paddy, paving the way for the creation of a new fishpond – a crucial food source in a place where protein is in short supply.

After the students put the finishing touches on their project and we gathered on the road to depart, an elderly Miao woman approached our group with a giant smile on her face. Using a mixture of Mandarin and her local Miao dialect, she explained to our local guide, Jacky, why she was so content.

Jacky told us that she was happy about the sunny weather and our presence in the village. Jacky, who is half-Miao, then explained that she was about to start singing: “Miao people have to sing to show they are happy!”

Right on cue, she closed her eyes, tilted her head back and broke into a slow croon that might have seemed mournful if not for the smile still spread across her weathered face. Students, teachers, and villagers alike stood motionless as she sang, and when she finished she distributed bags of sunflower seeds as gifts. For all we had heard – and experienced – of the famously friendly Miao culture, nothing brought it home like the infectious elation of this village elder.

WildChina recently spoke to Veronique Terrier, a Switzerland-based teacher who has made the most of her China passion by dreaming up and coordinating trips once-in-a-lifetime trips to China. She most recently collaborated with Veronique d’Antras, WildChina’s Europe Director, to create her dream trip to Jiangxi province.

Veronique discussed her love for the Middle Kingdom, collaboration with WildChina, and the key to a unique China experience.

WildChina Travel: Tell us a little about yourself. What inspired you to become involved in travel? What brought you to creating this journey with WildChina?

Veronique Terrier: In the 1980s, I spent some time in China, where I studied Chinese qigong and taiji [martial arts]. I immediately loved this country, its people, its rhythm. Despite some trying moments, I love it still. China feeds my soul. As I aspire to share my love of China, I regularly organize trips for those who want to follow me, each time imagining a different route.

For months, I try a theme and carve a new path, just as an artisan would carve his work, until the trip takes body and life and reflects a unique relationship between nature and culture. To achieve a new project, I look to partner with the best specialist. In this case, WildChina superbly organized the logistics of this trip in Jiangxi province, a region that has not yet hosted many Western tourists.

WCT: Why Jiangxi province? What drew you to this area of China?

VT: For this trip, I wanted to return to a region with mountains and water, two basic elements of the Chinese imagination. Jiangxi proved an ideal setting: large lakes and rivers, land branched rivers, mountains with mysteries and stories. Adorable country towns preserve gems embedded in cultivated terraces. No wonder it is such a source of inspiration: Jiangxi was the birthplace of the works of painters, poets, philosophers, and mystics who have deeply influenced China throughout its history. Though somewhat forgotten today, it’s a truly beautiful and significant place.

WCT: You partnered with WildChina for this trip. Our mantra is ‘Experience China Differently’ – how do you think this trip enables travelers to see a different part of China?

VT: WildChina was the perfect partner in organizing this off the beaten path trip – I am always happy to use their services and resources for these projects. WildChina offers spirited and motivated guides, as well as unique activities related to tea or calligraphy; artisans, school or clinic visits; meetings with artists in a local operas, for example; and other small touches that make all the difference. WildChina made valuable suggestions that have really enhanced the route and the atmosphere of this project that I have  in which I had invested much time and effort. I am infinitely grateful their for their flexibility, understanding of a trip’s finesse, the quality of their thoughtful proposals, and professionalism.

WCT: What was your favorite part of the trip? Why?

VT: We were very impressed with our stay in Sanqing Mountains for a few days, during which we were in a continuous state of wonder.  We bathed in the pure magic of living the scene of a Chinese painting – think mist, the veiling and unveiling of pine trees twisted and clinging to cliffs, and rock formations – and thought of all those people who had also wandered happily in the middle of this fantasy. A great atmosphere.

We loved the delightful atmosphere of a quiet stay in a Hui village, still well preserved despite the appetites of developers. Walks in the countryside afforded us precious peace.

WCT: Do you have future plans to organize more trips in China? If so, what do you think your next destination will be? Why?

VT: I intend to continue to travel to China often, as she has many beautiful places to be rediscovered, that have been forgotten for some time. For example, I like to travel by waterways and canals, beyond the Yangtze cruises that so many travelers do.

WCT: What advice can you offer to travelers seeking a unique experience in China?

VT: If I have one suggestion, it is this: whatever route you choose, be sure to visit one of many sacred mountains of China. It is a truly unique experience. Just be aware that the paths can be quite steep with many steps. Still, it is very much worth it.

I didn’t know what to expect at Mr. Liang Congjie’s memorial service, or specifically, how to dress for it. In any event, I put on a full black outfit, a bit on the formal side and found my way through the neighborhood in northern Beijing. There were no Porche or BMWs lining the narrow alleyway, the building was simple – Beijing Science Activity Center.  Once inside, a few young volunteers greeted me. They are the typical volunteers of Friends of Nature, college graduates, and passionate environmentalists. The whole low-key nature was just perfectly fitting to see off Mr. Liang Congjie.

The surprise came inside the memorial hall.

First of all, there were many more older people than I ever expected.  Secondly, people were wearing their daily outfits – quite a few women were in their brightly colored cotton coats (–棉袄),  a typical winter outfit for northerners from the country side. Somehow, that surprised me because environmentalists in China are such a niche group of people that people usually associate them with the active college grads whose lives are not inundated with the needs of a car, house, kids, etc., and sometimes, idealistic intellectuals who still continue to dream into their old ages. I had no idea that Liang’s grassroots movement was truly grassroots based. These are common Chinese you see everywhere – no formalities of dressing for the occasion.

Then one of these old ladies spoke up. “I am from Xinxiang, Henan.” From the moment she spoke, she started to cry. She recounted how Liang helped her to start grassroot organization to protect the environment in her village, and how Liang coached her on how to speak with government officials, how to motivate her followers. (Now, her organization had more than 10,000 members.) As she talked, she became more emotional, by the end, she was practically wailing, with many in the audience were crying silently as well. I used to see this kind of wailing at funerals for relatives in the countryside, but wasn’t a bit surprised here.  It simply seemed the right way to say goodbye to such a leader.

More than 300 people were there, who had come on their own – many by buses, by taxies – but the goal was the same. They were here to celebrate Liang’s life and find a sense of camaraderie among us all. Liang is the last of three famous Liang men important to modern Chinese history. Liang’s Grandfather was Liang Qichao – the one who attempted to assist the emperor in setting up a modern democracy in the 19^th century, and Liang’s father was Liang Sicheng – the founding father of Chinese architecture and also the one who fought against the demolition of Beijing’s old city wall in the 1950s. Liang himself was the one who fought to protect Yunnan Snub-nosed monkeys, Tibetan antelopes, and the environment. All three of them fought in losing battles, but all three believed that the losing battles were worth fighting as they woke up the nation, woke up the people.

There were many people wanting to speak at his memorial, so I didn’t want to fight for stage time, as my personal interaction with Liang was fairly limited. But, I think it’s important to share what kind of a person he was.

I first met him in late in 1999. A few of my conservation friends wanted to take me to meet him, so I did. His office was humble and simple, and so was him home, but somehow, seeing him in his home was simply inspiring – reminding people once again that you really don’t need all the fancy stuff in life, but focusing on doing something meaningful is more important.

Soon I married an American journalist, and I wanted him to meet Liang and his wife. So, we invited them to my house for dinner. My husband was cooking and he was fretting over the fact the cucumber that day wasn’t that good. Liang arrived, my husband and I were both a bit formal as he was a very well respected and well known scholar so we didn’t know how to treat him appropriately. Casually, Liang strolled into our kitchen, picked up a piece of cucumber and took a bite.  My husband looked at him sort of nervously and asked, “how is it?”.  Liang simply said, “不好吃” (“not good”). Then we all laughed. That broke the ice. He was straightforward, and immediately, we were talking like old friends.

Then, my dear husband’s roasted whole chicken was ready. He cut off two drumsticks, and two pieces of breast meat, put them on separate plates to serve. To my horror, he served the guests the breast meat and reserved the drumsticks for himself and me! In China, drumsticks were the best part and always served to the guests! Liang looked at the plate and simply said, “美国女婿还没训练好.” (“American son-in-law still needs more training!”)  That became the legend joke in my marriage. We went on to discuss many issues related to the environment and US/Chinese relations.

I guess the point of me sharing this is to say, Liang is such a personable man that he didn’t become a crusader environmentalist that turned people off, but instead, he brought these serious issues to our daily lives, made the issues accessible to everyone.

I took a cold shower Monday morning, because it takes about 10 minutes flushing out the cold water before the hot shower comes on. I wasn’t brave. I simply did one little thing to pay my respect to Mr. Liang Congjie.

Huanghuacheng, or the “Yellow Flower” Great Wall, has long been a lesser-known section to visitors.  Often been referred to as the “Wild Wall,” Huanghuacheng‘s remote location and disrepair made it  mysterious to those looking to visit China’s architectural wonder.

This will all change when local government approves access to the Wild Wall that, the Global Times reports, recently underwent a (now complete) five-month repair project.

Huanghuacheng‘s appeal lies in its unique “lake and mountain scenery,” and of course, scores of yellow flora. However, the section has historically been plagued with issues ranging from “landslide-induced collapses, earthquakes and cracks,” which prompted its closure to the public from 2004 onward.

The impending re-opening of the section makes us contemplate the fate of the Wall’s wilder side. With increasing damage and commercialization of the other sections, it would be in the best interest of cultural preservation to limit the traffic and development in the area. (After all, the government allegedly took drastic measures to ensure historical authenticity.)

But, with the prevalence of mass / “fast” tourism in the area, and across China in general, this may not be an immediate concern. We hope that for the sake of the wall’s cultural integrity, and the preservation of Huanghuacheng‘s “wild” nature, local officials carefully and thoughtfully plan the re-introduction of the Wild Wall to the public.

Hi all! My name is Wayne, and I’m an Australian currently working for Shaanxi Changqing National Nature Reserve in Huayang Village, about 5 hours south-west of Xi’an.  My series of posts, as well as my work assisting Changqing staff manage the impacts of tourism on the reserve, follows on from Heather Graham, who was here in 2009.

Changqing was established as a nature reserve in 1995, with an upgrade to ‘national’ status in 1997 for the purposes of conserving the habitat of the Giant Panda (Ailuropoda melanoleuca), of which there are 100 or so that call Changqing home.  Not surprisingly then, the panda is what the reserve is best known for, with many tourists heading to these parts for the opportunity to catch a glimpse of these special animals in the wild.  The best chances of this, I have been informed, is in the winter months when pandas descend to the valleys to escape the cold.  Tracking and spotting pandas is also easier with the abundance of snow and lack of foliage.

However, if you happen to time your visit to China and/or Shaanxi Province during autumn, I have discovered that it’s still a fantastic time to visit Changqing, offering the opportunity to hike among the beautiful fall colours of the Qinling region.  Having only arrived in early November, I have just managed to catch the tail end of autumn.  While the majority of my time so far has been spent settling into life in Huayang, I was fortunate enough to tag along on a couple of guided tours of Changqing conducted by our reserve staff as part of my orientation.

The main road into Changqing follows the river valley and so we make stops along the way to view a few waterfalls.  For me, it’s an opportunity to test out the settings of my new camera, something I made sure I had before I arrived.

At the lower elevations, the mountains are awash with the yellows, oranges and reds of China’s own species of oaks, maples and aspens.  There are also larch trees displaying a vibrant yellow, but after being informed that it is an introduced species (a remnant of Changqing’s past as a forestry reserve) I don’t allow myself to be impressed by their show.

One of the days we spend hiking high up in the mountains in the core summer habitat of the panda, where short thickets of bamboo grow underneath towering pines.  There are no pandas to see on this day, but I’m amazed by the number of scats (animal poo) along the track, indicating healthy populations of golden takin (Budorcas taxicolor bedfordi) and himalayan goral (Naemorhedus goral caudatus) are present in the area.  We even see a few scats of a carnivore, possibly from a leopard (Panthera pardus fusca)!!

While we left the fall colours a few hundred metres below, there are plenty of leafless birch trees which I find beautiful, particularly when the peeling bark is backlit by the sun, giving it striking red glow.

There are also some breathtaking views during the hike, in more ways than one.  At over 2700m, it is not high by Chinese standards, but coming from Australia where I live by the ocean, I struggle a little bit for breath.  I’ll use it as an excuse, anyway, as it’s better than giving off the impression that I’m simply unfit (I do notice, though, that my water bottle compresses on the descent down).

For one of the groups, wildlife is more their passion, and so we spend the majority of our time on the lookout for anything that moves.  These guys really know their stuff, and they certainly looked the part as well, with large DSLR cameras and telescopes being carried from place to place.  The group isn’t disappointed as we spot golden takin, Himalayan goral and wild boar (Sus scrofa moupinensis).  I learn a little trick in wildlife photography along the way, placing the lens of my compact digital up to the telescope to capture this close-up of our takin.

So, that’s about it for my first post.  From what I’ve already seen, Changqing has lots to offer, not just pandas.  If you’ve got time, I think it’s well worth making the effort to call in for a few days on your way between Xi’an and Chengdu, if only for some fresh mountain air and as respite from the hustle and bustle of China’s cities.

Over the following 11 months, I hope to provide a few more of the happenings here in Huayang and Changqing and also include some stories of my travels around this vast country of China.  Please feel free to leave comments or suggestions on what you may want me to cover.

Hiking in tea tree forests, watching rare local festivals, and meeting locals of the fabled Ancient Tea Horse Road: our press trip participants have been on the road in Guizhou and Yunnan for 9 days in a whirlwind of adventure.

(Photo: Kathy Dragon)

Wish you were here? The next best thing is following our journey. Here’s how:

– Read the WildChina blog for first-hand accounts of the trip

– Follow us on Twitter @WildChina to read to-the-minute tales from our adventure

– Check out our Guizhou and Yunnan Flickr albums with photos from the road

If you are interested in a future press trip, please send us an email to info [at] wildchina [dot] com with the subject line “Press Trips.”

“There are so many natural and beautiful, but backward villages here. It is my dream to help my people.”

There is something really touching about the simplicity with which our WildChina guide, Jacky Xu, explains to me his reason for working on rural education projects in Guizhou.

Villages in Guizhou, while beautiful, often lack infrastructure and educational facilities needed to foster learning communities.

Since 2008, Jacky has worked on various community service projects in his native Guizhou, where he grew up in a rural village. Fully aware of the challenges that children in these communities face, Jacky has focused on education projects to create a brighter future for them, both by leading student groups to work on rural infrastructure projects, and by being a community volunteer.

While he’s collaborated with students and villagers alike to improve countryside roads (giving children access to schools), and volunteers as an English teacher during the low season months of November and December, his biggest current project is to rebuild the elementary school in Nandao Village.

In Nandao, which is separated into Upper and Lower sections, a good education is challenging to obtain. Each day, children as young as 5 years old must all make the long walk to a decrepit school – essentially just an old house – that lacks heating and proper school equipment.

“I see so many children in school shivering all day,” Jacky says, “and I want to help them.”

This coming spring, the children of Nanduo will get a better schoolhouse – and hopefully, a better future with it. With the aid of Hong Kong charities, Jacky will coordinate the school’s reconstruction with generous donations of  materials and helping hands.

“This is my biggest wish,” Jacky says. He hopes that Nandao, and other rural villages in Guizhou, can become nurturing learning communities for the young children who inhabit them.

We can’t wait to see how Nandao transforms.

Finding unique clothing that satisfies the needs of WildChina guides in China’s coldest areas, while allowing them to look the part when in remote boutique hotels, is not an easy task. When leading off-the-beaten-path tours to China’s most remote regions, how does a rugged, adventurous guide maintain a clean, professional look? Khunu to the rescue.

Khunu offers a new set of locally-sourced yak wool sweaters in the new Autumn/Winter collection.

We at WildChina are delighted to announce our partnership with Khunu, a premium clothing company focused on producing high-quality adventure wear from Tibetan and Mongolian yak wool. This season, Khunu will be clothing our Shangri-La region guides in Khunu Chimera tops – soft, lightweight and warm garments that are perfect for guiding bespoke trips with sophistication in colder weather. These guides are the perfect adventurers to sport the socially-conscious brand, as Shangri-La is known for its rich cultural diversity and notable population of yaks.

WildChina founder Mei Zhang is impressed by both quality and cultural significance of Khunu garments. “When I first heard about what Khunu was doing,” she says, “I was intrigued by the concept but unsure about what the products would be like. It was something of a surprise to feel how warm and soft their garments are.”  (Yak wool has a luxurious feel that can often be mistaken for cashmere, though it is warmer and notably more durable.) In addition to Khunu’s high level of quality, Mei notes, “the unique link [the garments] have to the regions to which we travel gives them additional relevance” to WildChina’s mission of enabling travelers to experience China differently.

To celebrate the WildChina-Khunu alliance, as well as a new womens line for the Autumn/Winter Collection, Khunu is offering WildChina supporters a limited time 15% discount on all new Khunu sweaters through November 11, 2010. Customers can use the code “wildchina” during checkout at the Khunu online store.

Visit the Khunu website for more information on their story, products, and adventurous ambassadors.

Our friend and writer/photographer/tour leader Annika Hipple alerted us on Facebook yesterday to an interesting new China travel/environment article on Ethical Traveler, an e-news portal that “[promotes] travel as diplomacy that can make a difference on environmental and human rights issues.”

China's Great Green Wall: a long-term solution for the country's environmental concerns? (Photo: Mark Wasyl / Wired.com)

In the November 2010 issue, Katia Savchuk’s article, “China’s Great Green Wall Tests the Limits of Reforestation” explores one of China’s greatest environmental challenges. Nationwide deforestation, in conjunction with global warming, poor regulations and overgrazing, has ” contributed to the rapid spread of deserts,” thereby “threatening the livelihoods of 400 million people.”

China’s 2,800-mile-long (4,506 kilometers)”Great Green Wall, ” officially termed the Three-North Shelterbelt Forest Program, will provide 400-million hectares’ (988-million acres) worth of artificial forest to 13 northern Chinese provinces in 40 years, to counter such climate change and desertification.

But, will this initiative, started in 1978, be an effective long-term solution to China’s worsening environmental conditions? We wonder the same thing for how this will affect the landscape of Chinese tourism.

Read the arguments for and against this ambitious $6.3-billion undertaking in the article.