May 2, 2002.
Dear Family and Friends,
As my great friend Craig Ferguson might say, "You could write books on what I don't know about China". Having spent four weeks skipping around China like Svend Robinson on a Trade Mission, I am hardly qualified to comment on this vast, culturally rich, diverse and ancient land. Nonetheless, I am going to do so, but somehow doing so reminds me of the sign Gerry Ennis used to have in his office at Shell, "To yeers ago I culdn't even spel enjineer, now I are one."
Four weeks ago China existed for me largely as the Mysterious East, exotic, inscrutable, teeming. And of course, as characterised by American press, it was Red China, the Evil Empire, repository of all things Communist, and anti-Christ. Well, today I do have a slightly more informed and realistic view of China and its people. This will be a long message to tell you about it. I hope you will accept my apology for being so wordy, but I never use four words when a thousand will do.
Mythologically, China claims a history of over 5,000 years, but as a concept, it has surely existed since it was united by the first Exalted Emperor Qin Shi Huang who ruled from 221 to 207 BC. It has remained more or less united ever since, through the many subsequent dynasties, Han, Sui, Tang, Song, Yuan (Mongol, i.e., Genghis and Kublai Khan), Ming, and Qing. The Qing dynasty was finally over thrown by the Kuomintang, led by Sun Yat Sen, in 1911. Over 2,000 years of cruel and despotic rulers were thereby replaced with a wealthy elite supported by a military dictatorship, possibly the world's first trickle-downers.
The next forty years were a period of turmoil for China. The Communist Party of China was formed in 1921, and civil war between them and the Kuomintang (now led by Chiang Kaishek following Sun Yat Sen's death) commenced in the 1920's. This civil war persisted over the next decades during which, the Communists made their Long March, ending with Mao Zedong as their undisputed leader. (This internal strife was occurring even as Japan invaded and occupied China). The civil war finally ended in 1949 with the expulsion of the Kuomintang to Taiwan where they remain today, still claiming sovereignship over all China.
The first few years of communist rule were years of major achievements. The first Five Year Plan saw the restoration of industrial production, land reform, and economic stability. But Mao, believing that revolution had its own intrinsic redemptive value, continued to launch or sanction an endless stream of 'campaigns', the Three Antis, the Five Antis, the campaign to 'uncover hidden counterrevolutionaries', the Hundred Flowers, the Anti Rightist campaign, and most disastrously, the Great Leap forward in 1958 and the Cultural Revolution in 1966.
The Great Leap Forward redirected the populace from farming to backyard steel furnaces. Anything made of metal, including all household objects such as woks, pots, pans, or door knobs, was melted down to produce useless, low grade steel, while, at the same time, the crops were ignored. The two years of drought which followed combined to produce famine so wide spread it is estimated 30 million people starved to death (some people put the number as high as 60 million).
The Cultural Revolution was a purging of the Party of anyone remotely critical of Mao and the start of the Mao cult. The campaign of terror was carried out by students called the 'Red Guard'. Primary targets were intellectuals, artists, writers, Buddhists. Schools and universities were shut down, books burned, temples ransacked, and historical artifacts destroyed. This period of chaos only ended with Mao's death in 1976 and the arrest of the 'Gang of Four', the initiators of the Cultural Revolution. It is held by some that it was a Gang of Five, Mao being the fifth, but nevertheless, Mao remains, at least formally, a hero of the Chinese people. The more or less official position, as stated by the China International Travel Service, is that Mao was 70% right and 30% wrong. No estimate is given on how often CITS is right. One of the more visible lasting legacies of the Cultural Revolution is the ubiquitous Little Red Book, now available everywhere in China and in all languages.
In 1987 Kara met me at the Hong Kong airport, and she did so again on April 5th when I flew in from Bangkok. It was simply great to see her. Kara was there with Anthony, a MBA classmate from McGill. Anthony is from Calgary and has been in Hong Kong for 8 years, sufficient time to become a millionaire (several times over I think) working as an investment analyst. At age 32, he was ready to retire and return to Canada when an opportunity to go to work for the Bank of China arose, so he plans to stay on for three more years, and presumably make more millions. With China’s announced entry into the World Trade Organisation, there is apparently high demand for people with Anthony’s skills and background, he is Chinese Canadian and speaks some Cantonese and Mandarin.
We loaded into Anthony’s big new Mercedes and he took us out for a wonderful seafood dinner in Kowloon. We wandered down small alleys, past dozens of seafood stalls with tanks containing every manner of fish and shellfish imaginable. At one stall, owned by relatives of his wife, Anthony chose mantis shrimp (at least ten inches long), abalone, clams, grouper fish, cuttlefish, a long skinny shell fish the name I never learned, and more. We went on a bit further to a restaurant, and there Anthony’s selections appeared, one after another, until we were totally stuffed. My offers to pay were emphatically rebuffed. In China, who is to pay is often a question of “saving face”, an expression we heard often in China. I was happy to accede, as Hong Kong has prices like Switzerland and Tokyo.
Kara and I caught the 11:30 PM ferry to Lamma Island where we were staying for the two nights before joining our China tour group. Lamma is a few minutes from Hong Kong Island by ferry, but light years away in terms of development. It has the feel of many small coastal/resort tourist spots I have been in. A lot of ex-pats live there, as it is much cheaper than Hong Kong Island or Kowloon. Having said that, we have a very basic, modest room which costs $60.00 per night, and breakfast costs a mere $14.00. I’ve definitely left S.E. Asia.
Hong Kong is as dazzling, bright, and exciting as I remember it from 15 years ago, only bigger and cleaner. Surely there is no other city in the world with so many skyscrapers, so densely packed, along such a long shoreline. Buildings of forty, fifty, and sixty stories soar in a strip along the waterfront for miles everywhere one looks. And the building boom continues. Freighters, cruise ships, ferries, catamarans, hydrofoils, tugboats, yachts, boats and ships of every sort, chug or zip around the harbour. If you are a marine station fuel agent, this must be the heaven you go to when you die.
Kara and I joined our tour group at a hotel in Kowloon, there are twelve of us plus Rob the leader, a Canadian guy from Toronto but who now calls Vancouver home, if he were ever to actually go back.
We left Hong Kong by bus and within one-half hour have crossed the frontier into China. If I thought the high rises that epitomize Hong Kong would end at the border, I couldn’t have been more mistaken. Or more surprised. Our bus sped along a freeway, equal to any I have been on anywhere in the world, heading for the city of Guangzhou, old Canton. For our two hour trip, skyscrapers could be seen in every direction, with dozens (hundreds?) of sky cranes in evidence of more new ones being built. Guangzhou has a population of 7 million, but with all the development surrounding it, it is being recognized as the largest city in China with some 30 million in its orbit. But we don’t see much of this city other than the huge train station where we board an overnight train for Guilin (1.4 million people) and another transfer to a bus for the ride to picturesque city of Yangshuo where we are to spend two nights.
Yangshuo is a touristy little city (400,000) with lots of artisans, souvenir shops, and western style restaurants. It is set amid huge limestone pinnacles (karsts) which pop up out of the otherwise flat countryside. These hills are quite amazing, sheer cliffs, some rising more than one thousand feet, and despite the steepness, they are generally covered in lush green vegetation. For centuries Chinese artists and writers have immortalized this area with their works. We took a one-half day boat cruise on the Li Jiang River, weaving in amongst the hills, all named, mostly after what people think they look like, e.g., Lion Riding Carp Hill, Dragon Head Hill etc. Quite spectacular.
On our second day, the group split up into those who wished to cycle around the countryside (including me), or those who preferred to walk. Everyone had a great day. Just I and one other of our group went on a shorter ride with Rob, our leader, and his local girlfriend Apple. Kara and some others were led on a walk by Farmer Tang. His business card says, “Hang with Tang”. Although the weather was a bit wet and cool, we pedalled, and Farmer Tang took the others on a walk of several hours. We all went through rice paddies, farmers were plowing their fields with water buffalo, red brick and concrete housing with round tile roofs dotted around, and the limestone karst hills formed the backdrop. Farmer Tang and his group ended at his home where his wife cooked them all lunch.
China’s ‘One Child’ policy, the nation-wide birth control program, was introduced in 1973. This program is often quite rigorously enforced, with a system of incentives and penalties, in the hopes of limiting population to 1.5 billion and then reducing it to around 700 million. Amongst other penalties imposed on people who do have second children, there can be demotions, even loss of jobs or loss of housing. We were told that these extra children are not eligible for state schooling, medicine, or housing, they exist largely outside the society. In addition, they are apparently not included in the official census and estimates as to their number are upwards of 200 million. Only ethnic minorities are exempt from the program. Farmer Tang and his wife have one child. Last year she became pregnant. When she was eight months and ten days pregnant, officials came to their home and she was taken to the hospital for a forced abortion. Eight months and ten days pregnant.
China significantly has not had a secret police, rather the populace has been organized into work units, and these friends and neighbours monitor each other. Farmer Tang believes it was one of these neighbours who alerted the authorities.
We left Yangshou by bus to catch an overnight train in Liuzhou (population 1.7 million) for Yichang (population 4 million) arriving at about noon. (Virtually every city is some odd million in population. It's amazing how many cities of this size that I have never heard of.) Yichang is our starting point for a boat ride up the Yangzi River through the famous Three Gorges. In 1992 China announced it was going to build a massive and controversial hydroelectric dam just below the Three Gorges. This project was first proposed by Sun Yat Sen in 1919. The Yangzi River roughly divides China into north and south and its flood plain is home to some 400 million Chinese. It has been the major transportation route into central China for eons. The 2.3 km long, 185 meter high dam will raise the water level 175 meters and create the world’s largest water storage reservoir, some 550 kms long.
Proponents of the dam point out that navigation will be greatly improved, flood control will be enhanced (disastrous floods occur about every decade, costing thousands of lives and millions of dollars damage), the power generated will equal one fifth of China’s current production, and, centred where it is, the dam will bring huge economic growth to the interior of China, one of China’s stated policies.
Many environmentalists and economists are opposed to the project. The cost of the dam is estimated at $20 billion US, and it is imprudent, they say, to concentrate all that money on one project. Others warn of the danger of having such a huge amount of water stored behind a dam in one of the world’s most densely populated areas. And, of course, the raising of the water level will flood countless cities and villages. Over two million people will have to be relocated. Many significant archaeological sites and artifacts will be lost forever. Regardless, it is being built, and tens of thousands of Chinese and foreign tourists are flocking to go through the gorges before the reservoir starts to fill next year.
In the afternoon of our arrival we are given a tour of the dam site and its massive five-step, double channel, boat lock with separate boatlift. It was a beehive of activity with 60,000 workers on site. Dust swirls and chokes the air as hundreds of dump trucks (very small by North American standards) trundle convoy-like between the site and a mountain nearby where material for the dam is sourced. Next year the river will be closed to navigation for two months as the last section of the dam is started, with final completion, on time and on budget the Chinese say, slated for 2008.
After spending the night in the quite luxurious four star Hotel Gezhouba, we are transferred to the not so luxurious vessel Yao Hua (Shine China) and are soon in the Gezhouba Locks taking us past the dam built in 1987 as a feasibility test for the bigger dam. It was quite amazing how quickly the lock filled and lifted our ship over the dam, it took mere moments.
We then head up river towards the first of the three gorges, Xiling Gorge. The scenery is grand; 3,000 foot mountains drop straight down into the river, which at times is quite narrow. The river is clogged with other boats, tour boats, fish boats, tugboats pulling scows (most hauling coal), and many times we have to wait for ships heading down river to pass. On the mountain sides large signs are posted showing the 175 meter level the water will eventually reach. It is amazingly high, and we soon pass the first of the many cities to be displaced, Zigue. While only 30,000 people live there, it surely shows how large the task is. Every one of the towns and cities must be totally rebuilt, new housing, roads, schools, hospitals, stores, office and administration buildings, parks, theatres, everything. In addition all the old towns are being totally dismantled.
We had an excellent local Chinese tour guide, Jerry, who gave great commentary as we sailed up river and through the second gorge, Wu Gorge. With an irony he never intended, nor would he understand, he proudly told us of the three choices offered by the benevolent government to the displaced locals. They could either move to the new city, move to one of several designated cities where labour is needed, or, if they had relatives who would take them, they would be permitted to move in with them. The choice of doing whatever the hell they want is not even on the radar screen.
The next morning after tying up for the night at Wuhan, we boarded smaller boats for a tour up the Daning Li River and through the Lesser Three Gorges, Dragon, Misty, and Emerald. If anything, they are even more spectacular than those on the main river. There are so many tour boats going up and down the river they are almost linked like a train, an endless string of them. In the afternoon, back on board the Yao Hua, we pass through the last of the three gorges, Qutang and stop at the ancient city of Fengjie where we spend the night in a hotel.
Fengjie dates from 722 - 221 BC, has narrow twisting streets, many very old buildings, is terribly dirty, and endlessly interesting. (One must also remember little, or no maintenance, has been carried out on any of these towns since the dam was announced ten years ago). In front of our hotel was one of the most interesting food stalls I have encountered anywhere. It was only a table with a fire pot burning on it, but it had the best array of animal parts you would ever hope to see, mainly pig I think, but it was feet, knees, snouts, tails, penises, ears, tongues, hearts, lungs, tripe, and parts I couldn’t identify. It was also the busiest stall; people lined up several deep to get their order in for take away. We passed on this dining opportunity, opting for a different street stall, a meal of excellent local, but identifiable food, and local beer for $2.50.
A constant diversion for us has been the unintentionally funny English translations and misspelling (English is frequently used in advertisements and on menus). Kara and I wandered into a Fengjie furniture store advertising Queensland mattresses “Firm In Ner Spirng Construction for Optim Um Back Support. Ohering A First Ciass Rest”. Hard to resist.
In the early morning we boarded a hydrofoil for the 450 km boat ride to Chongqing (10 million people), more towering skyscrapers, more western shops, more pollution. We transfer to a bus which takes us over the only bad road we encounter, currently under repair, to the holy Buddhist site Emeishan (Mount Emei), arriving at our hotel in Baoguo at midnight.
Having decided tourism is good, the Chinese government, although still ambivalent about religion, is heavily promoting sites like Emeishan to Chinese and foreign tourists. Temples are being restored; restaurants, museums, tourist centres, and hotels are being built. The Chinese are responding in droves.
Our first stop in the area is Dafu, a giant 72 meter high Buddha carved in the mountain. I expect it is now the world’s largest following the Taliban’s destruction of the ones in Afghanistan. One is able to view impressive Dafu from the top, the bottom and from a stairway that goes down along side. Many signs are posted reading “Pay attention to Safety. Nice to Live”. I agree. We had tea at the restaurant at the top, serenaded by Celine Dion, and then caught a public bus (passing on the “Sespesial Line for Tourism”) back to Baoguo, a trip made interesting by the dozen large baskets of live eels set in the aisle.
The next two nights we spent at two different Buddhist Monasteries, Baoguo Si and Hongchunping, the latter dating back 1,500 years. Although badly damaged during the Cultural Revolution, they are being restored and they were great places to stay. Incense burners all about, with huge yard long incense sticks smoldering, dark wood, round roof tiles, many Buddhas with thick kneeling pads in front of them, all contribute to a mystical feel. However, there was no heat, and in the case of Hongchunping, the plumbing was original, being just slots in the concrete floor. But we managed.
By bus and cable car we were taken to the peak of Emeishan, some 10,000 plus feet high. It was cool and raining when we started out and cold and snowing at the top. Fortunately, umbrellas and braided straw overshoes were readily for sale, and heavy winter coats could be rented. The snow was quite exciting for most of the Chinese and all of our other tour members (Aussies, Kiwis and Brits). Less so for Kara and me. The views from the peak are regarded as some of the best in China. We saw none of it, of course. But the hike partially down, and then back up, to Hongchunping was excellent.
We had dinner and breakfast at the 7 - 11 Cafe, just below the gate of Hongchunping. Our hostess is “New Shoes”, the name she has been given by travellers as it most closely sounds like her Chinese name. The food was great, and New Shoes is a delight, serving each dish with a giggle and a “yummy, yummy”.
Back on a bus, more excellent, boulevarded highway, with the usual beautiful shrubs and flowers along the full route, next stop 2,300 year old Chengdu (10 million), and two nights in the same hotel, Sam’s Backpackers’ Guesthouse/Rong Cheng Hotel. Nothing is planned for us in Chengdu the next day and we have a ‘day off’ just to wander. Chengdu is the economic powerhouse of the Southwest and it shows in all of its modern buildings. The central square features the only statue we saw of Mao Zedong in China, it’s about 40 feet high, and he is merrily waving to the crowds scurrying along below.
According to Sam, over 300 days per year in Chengdu are overcast or raining. Skin colour is quite fair as a result, and consequently Chengdu women are considered very beautiful. And, again according to Sam, they often feign weakness or frailty to show dependency, another desirable characteristic. On the other hand, Chengdu men, he says, are considered “soft-eared” (from having them twisted) i.e., they are henpecked. To show that they are not, they often carry cigarettes behind their ears.
Fortunately for us, the weather while we were in Chengdu was sunny and warm. Kara and I spent our day having a massage (one of Asia’s real treats), visiting Wenshu Yuan a very large and well preserved Buddhist temple, and sitting in a tea garden, people watching. Tea gardens were a long time fixture in China, particularly so in Chengdu, but during the Cultural Revolution it was decided tea drinking was Bourgeois and a distraction from the more serious business of agriculture, (more probably they were seen as hotbeds for counter revolutionary thought), so the Red Guard smashed them up and drove the people out of them. Thankfully they are now coming back, because sitting there, sipping your ever-full cup of Jasmine tea, and watching the locals is the best way to pass time. People playing mahjong, performers, fortunetellers, shoe shiners, vendors, beggars, are all there, but the very best are the guys cleaning ears. They have an array of probes and sticks, some with feathers on the end, and they dig away at a tilted head, flicking out the offending bits. How could you beat that?
It is estimated there are only 500 to 1,000 Giant Pandas still alive in the wild. Giant Pandas eat only high grown bamboo and the diminished habitat, along with historical poaching, has led to their decline. They are considered sacred animals by the Chinese, their black and white colouring being suggestive of the Yin and Yang. As an endangered species, the death penalty is in store for anyone caught killing one.
We were taken to the Giant Panda Breeding Research Base near Chengdu. From an initial 6 pandas in 1990, the preserve has increased the population to 36. Breeding in captivity has proved very difficult. Apparently the female panda is in heat for only a very short period and this, coupled with the fact the male panda has a very small, less than one inch, penis, has frustrated reproduction attempts. Viagra has been tried in the hopes of improving the odds, but artificial insemination accounts for the successes. It was an interesting visit with morning mists shrouding the bamboo’s in the preserve. The pandas are fun to watch, clumsily flopping and rolling around.
One more overnight train and we arrive in the very ancient city of Xi’an. For nearly 1,000 years until the 10th century AD, Xi’an was the capital city of China, but it has always been a major regional city. Once the eastern end of the silk route, Xi’an (7 million people) is now best known for the Army of Terra Cotta Warriors discovered nearby in 1974 by peasants digging a well.
Our hotel, The Bell and Drum Tower (misspelled as the Bell and ‘Deum’ Tower on their stationery), is inside the massive moated walls of the old city and is just steps off the main square, which features the Bell and Drum Towers. There is a very upscale shopping plaza under the square. The weather is great the day we arrive, and Kara and I spent the afternoon browsing through the hundreds of artisan, tea, and souvenir shops in the Muslim Quarter, and others further afield, but still within the walls.
On my trip, the eating out and food experiences have been some of the best. And nowhere more so than in China. The Chinese eat everything. It has also been the best travelling with Kara. She will try anything. While I’m hoping to find the local McDonalds, Kara tuckers up to some street stall and orders steam dumplings with mystery meat and digs in. The stall owners, never having had a tourist for a customer before, treat her/us like royalty (or at least senior communist officials). And everybody sitting nearby watches to see how she will like it.
Generally, we have eaten in small restaurants and the food has been good to great and mostly recognizable, stir fried vegetables, beans, peas, tomatoes, bamboo shoots, potatoes; rice and noodles, steamed or stir fried; for meat it was mostly pork or chicken (sweet and sour pork is still one of my favourites); and then there were dumplings, won ton, steam buns, and hot pots. There has been lots of chilli and lots of garlic, both to my taste.
But ordering was always an adventure, even when the menu was in English. Once we ordered shrimps and were brought eels. A hot pot could show up with chicken feet (they are chicken after all). In fact, reading menus probably provided more diversion and laughs than anything else. Some of the dishes we encountered, correctly translated I believe, offered, amongst other dishes, “Braised scallop with ovary and digestive glands of crab”, “Braised goose claw with mushroom”, “Dried scallop and white bat soup”, or the tantalizing “Meat of dog hot pot”. Equally appealing, rat appeared more than once.
Then there were the misspelled translations, “Sweat and sour pork”, “Dull frog and fermented soya bearns”, “Green pipers with the head of fish hot pot” (a favourite in Scotland, no doubt), and my own favourite, “Pork with wash roon”. I passed on the latter because I couldn’t be absolutely certain it was a misspelling of mushroom and not a misspelling of washroom.
There are many specialty teahouses in China with a wide range of exotic, and often very expensive, teas. A pot of tea can cost up to $40 or even $50. In Xi’an, the Gang Cafe, a coffee and tea house, offers up along with rse, lvender and other misspelled teas, what surely must be the granddaddy of all typos. What it said will go unreported here, but believe me, recalling it still takes my breath away.
On our second morning in Xi’an, Kara and I were up early to watch the people exercise in the park which runs along both sides of the moat outside the city wall. Great numbers of people were doing Tai Chi, others were jogging, bending and stretching, working with swords, or bumping themselves against trees, some used exercise equipment, others did chin ups, while still others were doing a line dance routine to music being loudly played. After the line dance music ended, ballroom dance music started and everyone paired off to waltz around the park. Remember, this is at 7:00 in the morning.
It was very hazy and the air was filled with dust being blown in from the Gobi Desert, a common occurrence in Xi’an, so sightseeing was somewhat restricted. Instead, in the afternoon we went back to the Muslim Quarter for lunch and more browsing. Mary, who owns a shop with her sister Mary (that’s right, they are both Mary), had her husband lead us to a very small restaurant where we had roast pork in buns. It was excellent. When others went back on our recommendation, the roast was gone and the meat then being served was tripe, organs, snouts etc.
The next morning we went to view the Terra Cotta Warriors. They are as found in 1974, except for some having been restored, and they are now housed in big buildings. These warriors were built by Emperor Qin Shi Huang in the 3rd century BC for his burial site. His son completed the warriors after his father’s death in 210 BC. Over 7,000 life size warriors have been uncovered to date and there are estimates of many thousand more to be unearthed. The warriors are mainly on foot and are holding bows, spears, or battle-axes. Others are on horses, while still more are thought to be generals and officials. While the bodies are similar, all the faces are different, having been individually created.
Qin Shi Huang is a centrally important figure in China’s history. Had he merely left the legacy of the warriors, he would be well remembered. But in addition, he was the first to unite China, he introduced a common currency and written script. He also nearly completed the Great Wall of China by connecting various portions that had been started by others before him. These silent figures, staring straight ahead, make an impressive sight, and are a fitting reminder of his importance.
Our last overnight train takes us to Beijing (12 million). Our first day is spent with Linda, our local guide visiting Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Linda speaks excellent English and she is extremely knowledgeable on Chinese history. Unlike other local guides, Linda is willing to express her own opinion on various current events. She is angry with the Japanese for their unwillingness to admit their WWII atrocities. She also tells us her Grandmother had her feet bound and broken as a child, one of the last generation to suffer the cruelty.
Tiananmen Square is vast, the largest urban plaza in the world. It looks just as it does on TV, a big concrete expanse. Mao’s Mausoleum is at one end and the gates to the Forbidden City, with a huge Mao portrait featured, at the other. Flanking Mao are two large signs. One reads “Long Live the Peoples’ Republic of China”, and the other “Long Live the Peoples’ Union of the World”. There were no tanks there that day. (In truth, we have seen very little of the Chinese Army. Thousands of Chinese wear uniforms, but usually they are doormen or security guards.)
The Forbidden City is truly impressive. It consists of 9,999 and 1/2 rooms, being 1/2 a room smaller than the 10,000 in a mythical palace belonging to a God. It was built in 1,406 to 1,420, and was home to all emperors of the Ming and Qing dynasties, twenty four in all, ending with the last, Emperor Puyi who was dethroned in 1911 when he was six years old. He had ascended to the throne when he was only two (a story told in the movie The Last Emperor). The price of admission to the Forbidden City for commoners was instant death for over 500 years. Now it receives thousands of Chinese and other tourists every day, the cost 30 Yuan, about $6. Emperor Puyi has written an autobiography in which he apparently notes he “had to buy a ticket to visit the home he was born in”. The Palace was ransacked many times and most of the treasures now reside in Japan (taken during their occupation in the WWII, or in Taiwan, where the remainders were taken by the fleeing Kuomintang). It also has suffered many major fires, but today it sits in splendour, well restored and worth every Yuan it costs to visit.
In the Forbidden City, Kara and I, along with a couple of others in our group, participated in a tea ceremony, opting for that rather than the Starbucks coffee which is also available. There are 12 Starbucks in Beijing, as well as 70 McDonalds, and 40 Kentucky Fried Chicken.
We went to view Mao in his Mausoleum. He is laid out in a glass box, looking much smaller and frailer to me than he appeared on TV while alive, or his larger-than-life reputation.
Beijing seems different than the other large cities we have been in. Although there are as many equally impressive new buildings, they are not as tall as in the other cities. But like other cities in China, it is generally quite clean, with hundreds of women diligently sweeping the streets. There is lots of green space, flowers are everywhere, and there are many large parks. The main streets are exceptionally wide, at least 300 feet between the buildings on opposite sides of the street, with large setbacks, bicycle and traffic lanes, and boulevards in the centre and at the curb. A very convenient underground rapid transit services the city but there are many private cars on the streets, one million in all we are told. Bicycles remain the preferred mode of transportation, and there are certainly many millions of them.
Our second day in Beijing was spent on a trip to the Great Wall of China. We journeyed three hours north by bus to Jinshanling where we walked to the wall, and then along it for several hours to Simatai. The wall was my personal highlight of China. As previously mentioned, the wall was built by Emperor Qin Shi Huang in 220 BC when he connected separate walls erected by other kingdoms to keep out Mongol invaders from the north. When completed, the wall stretched from the east coast 4,000 miles to the west in the Gobi Desert. It follows the highest crest of the mountains, twisting and turning up and down the ridges. At many points it appears to be well over fifty feet high. Sentry towers are located every 500 meters or so. It was a beautiful warm sunny day as we hiked along the somewhat restored section, panoramic views in every direction. Much of the way we were accompanied by people trying to sell us souvenirs, books or postcards, and many of us succumbed. They are so friendly, offering an arm over the tough spots, and they do work so hard walking up and down trying to make a sale.
Back in Beijing, given our limited time, we chose to browse the markets, those on the street as well as the Silk, Pearl, and Russian markets, and the shopping malls, rather than visit more temples and shrines. Every imaginable commodity is on sale in Beijing, from $1 slacks to $200 designer shirts, cheap toys to state-of-the-art electronic devices, Mao watches and lighters, art works and antiques real and fake. Nowhere have I seen a bigger array, or cheaper prices. Real Rolex watches, not the knock offs, are available in every market, and they can be purchased for less than four dollars. (At least I think they were the real ones.)
On April 26th we had a farewell dinner with our group, the mandatory Beijing Duck served with small wheat pancakes, spring onions and fermented bean paste. We of course had several other dishes, but one we won’t forget was the dried scorpion forced on us by Rob. It is a final requirement for all his groups and we weren’t to be spared. Actually, they were just crispy little bites and that was all.
With five days to go before we were to leave, Kara and I decided to escape Beijing’s bustle for two days and caught a bus to Chengde (700,000 people), out beyond the Great Wall, five hours north. For 300 years Chengde was the location of the Emperors’ summer palace. They divided their time between Beijing and Chengde. The weather was cool and damp for us but we spent two easy days at the Mountain Villa Hotel taking time to visit the Bishu Shanzhuang (Imperial Summer Palace), and two other temples, one a mini-facsimile of the Potala Palace in Lhasa. It was here that I finally came down with a cold. It had been passed around through our whole group for the past three weeks, starting with Rob, and now it was my turn. I promptly passed it on to Kara.
On May 1st, back in Beijing, Kara and I went to Tiantan, the Temple of Heaven Park. Emperors came here to pray for a good harvest. Temples built with geometry employing nine steps, nine rings, or nine levels etc. (nine being a perfect number) dominate the place. Today the temple is probably the shrine most identified with Beijing by the Chinese. Being a holiday, the park was full of people enjoying the day, musicians playing, passers-by singing, everyone having a grand day. (I had expected some official activities for Labour Day, but none was to be found anywhere. Then I thought, “Just like Labour Day at home”.) In the afternoon we finished off with a flurry of final shopping and dinner at a very poncy restaurant, a great ending to a once-in-a-lifetime trip. The next day, May 2nd, at 4:35 and 4:15 PM respectively, Kara and I flew out of Beijing for home.
Well, what can I say to sum up? As for the China leg, coming at the end of my long trip, it was great to have Kara with me to keep my energy and enthusiasm level up. I love travelling with her. As to what I saw, it is much more modern than I ever would have expected. Many of the people in the big cities are as fashionably dressed as anywhere in the world. The grandchildren of women, who once endured the cruelty of feet being bound to produce a foot no longer than four inches, are now clunking around in platform shoes that are at least four inches longer than their actual feet. Brands more closely associated with London, Paris, Rome, and Beverly Hills are available in every large Chinese city. When China hosts the 2008 Olympics, I predict they will dazzle the world.
Having said that, China still has monumental problems. Peasants, 70% of China’s population, are streaming into the cities as they are displaced from farming, and unemployment is rising. If China ever achieves its targeted population level, for a time over 50% will be elderly, requiring government support. Currently, only 6% are in that group. Government leadership and change remain in the hands of an elite group. While democracy is being tried at local levels, Communist Party leadership and process is completely out of the hands of the people. I expect more turmoil is ahead.
As to the overall trip? I have fulfilled a life long whim to go around the world. I am so grateful to come out of it unscathed and most thankful for having enjoyed a high level of energy the whole trip. For the latter I have Lorraine, Carole, and Kara to thank. They all arrived at times when my interest or enthusiasm might have flagged. The places I have been, the people I have met, will not be quickly forgotten. I will not forget the hundreds of acts of kindness I received, best epitomized by Sherine and Kushan’s hospitality. I do, however regret to have to warn you, I expect I will start most of my future conversations with “When I was in India (or China, or Vietnam, or Sri Lanka, or...).
When friends return from a trip, I always ask, “What was the very best moment, not the best place, or week, but the best moment?” Christmas morning with Kara? Lunch in the high Alps at Bonny and Hermann’s hut? Floating down the Ganges in Varanasi? Riding high in my pedal rickshaw? Just standing taking in all the sights, smells, and sounds in the market at Mysore? Chugging through the canals choked with water hyacinth in Kerela? Dipping my toe in the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean, and Arabian Sea all at once? Lorraine’s grin riding in the rickshaw in Saigon? Drinking tea with the old Flower H’mong man in Bac Ha? Toasting my buns on the beach at Ko Samui? The deja vu all over again on seeing Kara in the airport at Hong Kong? Sitting in food stalls with Kara? The high point on the Great Wall? All of them, and many others, were fabulous. But the best moment, the very best, was the instant the sun broke over the horizon on Adam’s Peak. What a memory.
Many questions I might have had have been answered. Is India really that weird? Answer, no, it is weirder. Is the world round? Answer, can’t say, it looks flat everywhere. On the other hand, many new questions have arisen. What is that long fingernail, cultivated by so many in Asia, used for? Were there really only 4,800 steps up Adam’s Peak? What was in that tea in Xi’an? Did I save my soul with my floating candle in Varanasi? Why do the Jain mystics do those penile stretching exercises with stones?
Those answers will have to wait. For now, I am just very happy to be home. It is wonderful to see Lorraine, Jeff and Adele, Mom and everyone else. It is great to anticipate more than three nights in a row in the same bed. Toronto, Zermatt, Bombay, Delhi, Agra, Jaipur, Varanasi, Madras, Mysore, Cochin, Varkala, Trivandrum, Colombo, Sigiriya, Bangkok, Siem Reap, Phnom Penh, Saigon, Dalat, Hoi An, Hanoi, Sapa, Vientienne, Luang Prabang, Chiang Mai, Krabi, Ko Samui, Hong Kong, Yanshou, Yichang, Three Gorges, Emeishan, Chengdu, Xi’an, Beijing, Chengde, just some of the places I visited. And now Savary Island. It looks pretty damn good to me. Thanks for listening.
Merv.
