I’ll Make A Man Out of You

It has been said here that a man is not a real man until he has conquered the Great Wall of China.  Disney must have heard the news, as “I’ll Make A Man Out of You” was one of the main sing-a-longs in their 1998 movie Mulan.  One of the modern wonders of the world, the Great Wall has been around for 2000 years and has morphed from its original incarnation as a line of defence and sometime traffic highway to become China’s number one tourist attraction.

I could say I ‘climbed’ the Wall when I first arrived in China last August, but that would be misleading.  Slightly worse for wear after an introduction to the Beijing bars, I fought through pouring rain and pushing tourists to amble along the smoothly restored Bādálĭng section of the old fortification. It was exciting for the simple reason that it was “The Great Wall.”  Deep down, I was a little disappointed – and not just because most of my photos were of umbrellas.

The recent arrival of two university friends meant it was time for The Wall, Take II.  And this time we really did have to climb.  After driving up into the foothills outside Beijing – passing a man leading a camel along the way – we arrived at Mùtiányù, where a large section of the Ming Dynasty wall, complete with 23 watchtowers, snakes along the mountain top.  At first we ambled along under the smog-free, sunny sky, passing only a few fellow tourists.  Then “climb” became the operative word, with steep inclines and hawkers offering temptingly over-priced chocolate bars at the top of each new height.

We took the requisite jumping photos, peace-sign poses and profile pictures before beginning our final ascent to the last watchtower.  I think the three of us thought we were on the verge of collapse, but when we climbed (some might say crawled) onto that last platform, the view made it all worthwhile.  This is definitely one wall worth seeing.

Spring Festival Snaps

Spring Festival Stories

Backpacks, inter-railing, hostel horrors – intrepid travelling is one of those things I’ve thought about, but never actually done.  Until now, that is.

I remember seeing students heaving rucksacks bigger than my 15-year-old self onto European trains and thinking what an adventure it must be, taking off with nothing but one bag and a few friends.  When I have taken off with friends – Tuscany, Budapest, Miami – it’s been flights and hotel rooms, not crammed trains and dorms.  Well, that all changed in the middle of January.  On the 15^th of the first month of the year, I set off with four friends and a backpack as big I was (which I admit isn’t saying much) on a trip that took me through three weeks, eight destinations, four trains, two buses, a few ferries and 1000-plus photos.

Spring Festival – also known as the Chinese or Lunar New Year – is the big winter    holiday, comparable to the Christmas celebrations at home.  With six weeks off  school, it was the break from classroom fatigue we had all been waiting for.  This is  the time when people head home to be with their families; roughly 1 billion people  are on the move within the same few weeks, making travel tempestuous.  While we  did have to wait in ticket lines enduring sub-zero temperatures, the train journeys  themselves were not the horrors we expected.

Our first high-speed train took us to Nanjing, one-time capital of the country. The  Ming Dynasty City walls were impressive, as was the resting place of China’s ‘  founding father’, Sun Yat Sen, but none of us were sad when it was time to speed  on to Suzhou.  The guidebooks call Suzhou the Venice of the East – it’s not, but it’s  not bad either.  Shrouded in snow, the famous gardens were a sight to see.  Our old  courtyard hostel also looked sweet under the snow, but the lack of heating, flimsy  wooden doors and showers that were almost outside (literally) dampened the  experience.

No amount of snow could dampen my enthusiasm for our next stop, a place – as regular readers will know – that has already topped my travel list : Shanghai.  A Sunday morning stroll along the Bund, copious amounts of xialongbao dumplings, sky-high cocktails – what’s not to love? A visit to the Urban Planning Exhibition might sound dull, but gives a real insight into the city’s changes; Shanghai just keeps getting bigger and better.  Add in some traditional gardens, the not-so-old “Old Quarter” and the mind-boggling journey that is a visit to the China Expo Pavilion, and you have Shanghai take two.

As much as I loathed leaving Shanghai, nearby Hangzhou was beyond all expectations.  As the Chinese saying goes “Above is heaven, below is Hangzhou”.  After a wild goose chase, we managed to hire bikes and pedal round the beautiful West Lake, before drinking in the sunset over the mountains.  It was here we caught another glimpse of that ubiquitous contrast between old and new: Gucci preens proudly a few blocks from teeming market streets and bargain stores.

Further south we stopped at coastal resort Xiamen and the old colonial island of GuLang Yu.  Monks in the chocolate aisle at the supermarket, palm trees lining the streets – Xiamen was like a Med resort with a twist.  GuLang Yu, with its cobbled streets, red tiled rooftops and colourful fishing boats, was the setting for quite a few of those thousand-plus pictures.

A few hundred miles later, we were ready to welcome in the Year of the Rabbit.  From the neon overload of Mong Kok and Nathan Road in Kowloon, to the sleek financial-come-retail real-estate across Victoria Harbour at Central, Hong Kong has everything you could ask for. Markets, high-end boutiques, smelly street food, classy bars, teeming side streets, deserted beaches, city-scapes, tropical retreats – this confusingly British-style Chinese city was the perfect place to celebrate New Year.

For Spring Festival, most Chinese stay at home with their families, where they welcome in the New Year by staying up watching TV, letting off fireworks and eating dinner together.  To prepare for the New Year we went to the Flower Market, where a buzz similar to that of Christmas shopping hung in the air.  Kumquats for prosperity, blossoms for happy relationships – people were buying in bulk to bring in luck.  We welcomed the Year of the Rabbit with a visit to the Tian Tan Buddha and a beach or two before returning to Kowloon for the New Year parade and a night of dancing in Lan Kwai Fong, Hong Kong’s party precinct.

After three weeks of intrepid travelling down China’s east coast, what did we learn? Be wary of the guide book – the scenic area will probably not be scenic.  We speak Mandarin with a Beijing accent.  Some people really will go out of their way to help you (and others will not).  In such a huge country, even small regional differences are palpable – from accents to food, we were out of our recently acquired comfort zone.

We didn’t return to TJ that soon, however.  As my backpack buddies headed for Yunnan, I took off in the opposite direction, across the Pacific.  As bagels, beer pong and Broadway shows don’t exactly fall under the remit of a China blog, those stories will have to be saved for another time.  Suffice to say, two weeks Stateside were the perfect ending to my winter break.

Happy New Year of the Rabbit!  Here’s to another few months of tales in Tianjin…

Festive Fun

Although festive food was in scarce supply this year (I ended the 25^th with a chicken burger and a Tsingtao), festive fun was in abundance.  There was sledging on the frozen lake at the base of the TV Tower while Christmas carols played on an iPod, followed by crackers and conversation with friends. We enjoyed a classic Boxing Day of movies and mooching (plus copious amounts of chocolate). Walking the river route from the Italian District to Jinwan Plaza – on the frozen surface of the HaiHe River – was a highlight of my weekend wanderings, festive or otherwise.  I may have missed out on stuffing and chipolatas, but my Chinese Christmas was definitely one to remember.

Walking on water!

Dreaming of A White Christmas

There was no white Christmas in my dreams last night, but I still woke up this morning to a Chinese winter wonderland.  Snow, smog and smokestacks: welcome to the festive season in the Middle Kingdom.

Forget snow.  This year I’m dreaming of Yorkshire puddings and chipolatas, without which Christmas dinner will feel slightly inadequate.  I’m not sure if there will be stuffing, but this Saturday the British Council’s Tianjin/Qingdao contingent are getting together for some Christmas cheer, complete with dinner, drinks and presents.

Despite the lack of my favourite festive food, this Chinese Christmas is not as foreign as I feared it would be.  There are still red cups in Starbucks, fairy lights in the central streets and Mariah Carey crooning in the shops.  This Tuesday saw my friends and I decorating and rocking around the Christmas tree, before settling down to what we all agreed was an annual viewing of Love Actually.  Yesterday I received two Christmas gifts from students; they were clearly paying attention the day I mentioned chocolate was my favourite food.

Christmas is all around in Tianjin, but to some extent Christmas in China is being re-interpreted for a different demographic.  According to the source of all knowledge that is my Chinese teacher, Christmas Eve – not Day – is the big one over here.  As a day for couples to spend time together amidst Christmas lights, we were advised to avoid the crowds that will descend on BinJinDao on the 24^th.  Christmas Eve meets Valentines Day? Only in China.

Wherever you are reading this, and whatever form the 25^th will take for you: Merry Christmas from China! (And for those of you on the craggy isle, of whom I am just a little jealous: Nollaig Chridheil!)

I ♥ Shanghai

The Pearl (or Whore) of the Orient.  The Paris of the East. “The Future”(says Paris Hilton).  Shanghai elicits many monikers, but none feel as fitting as one I read recently: ‘the New York of Asia.’  While the wide, leafy streets of the French Concession and the art-deco period architecture of the Bund explain the Paris preference, the Shanghai that I saw last weekend is hot on the heels of its American counterpart.

Lonely Planet describes Shanghai as “the most dynamic city in the world’s fastest-changing nation… an exhilarating, ever-changing metropolis that isn’t just living China’s dream, but setting the pace for the rest of the world.” As a city of skyscrapers, shopping and socialising, SH is definitely giving NY a run for its money.

A weekend in Shanghai was enough for it to take the top spot in my travels in China to date.  I’ve always been a city girl at heart; returning to the Highlands after my first visit to London, my 8-year-old self began complaining about how small the buildings were.  That’s certainly not a problem in Shanghai, where everything is bigger and better than its competitors.  Just take a look at this skyline:

The view from the Bund across to Pudong is mesmerising, and one of the most famous Shanghai sights.  It felt similar to that thrill of seeing the New York skyline across the Hudson for the first time two years ago – it’s just how you imagine it to be.  The difference being, of course, the hordes of Chinese tourists that you need to hustle with to get a prime position for your camera.  The Bund itself is beautiful, and the contrast between both banks of the Huangpu River brings to mind that constant contrast you come across here in China, that of old versus new.

To get from one side to the other in typical TIC style, you can take the crazy Bund Sightseeing Tunnel under the river.  This isn’t sightseeing in the regular sense of the word, but a capsule ride through flashing neon lights and voiceovers welcoming you to paradise and purgatory simultaneously.  Think Disneyland meets Blackpool and you’re halfway there.

You can fit a lot into three days in this city, and we didn’t even follow the temple tourist trail.  Drinks at the highest bar in the world (that’s the Park Hyatt’s 100 Century Avenue, if you’re interested); tasty Thai food in Xintiandi, shopping central and home to the site of the CCP’s first congress; an amble through the avenues of the French Concession; watching dancing and deliberate chess moves amidst the fall colours of Fuxing Park; admiring art in the warehouse galleries of 50 Moganshan Road.  For yet another picture-perfect postcard view, we headed to the bar at the Hyatt on the Bund.  Floor-to-ceiling windows show you Shanghai’s past as well as its future: the Bund stretches languidly out on your right, while Pudong punches upwards on your left.

Before flying back to reality, there was a second stop at – where else? – a dumpling restaurant.  Thank you, New York Times, for directing me to the wonders of Yang’s Fry Dumplings.  Shanghai is the home of xiaolongbao, or soup dumplings.  The fluffy dough is not just filled with pork, but enough of its soupy juices to give the dumplings their name and make eating them with any sense of decorum utterly impossible.  You can find them all over the city, but at this particular establishment, the xiaolongbao are fried in sesame seeds and spring onions before being served up in little bowls to the line of people waiting (im)patiently outside.

In short, I ‘heart’ Shanghai – so much so, in fact, that I am planning to go back to the ‘future’ in a mere four weeks.  I can hardly wait!

Photos from the big day…

… or maybe not.

When we first arrived in Beijing and I wandered into Rendinghu Park, I thought I had unwittingly stumbled into a Chinese wedding:  the sliver-thin bride, top to toe in white, was leaning gracefully against faux-Grecian pillars.  Then I realised there were no bridesmaids; no guests; no family.  It must be a modelling shoot, I thought, and moved on.  Later, shortly after moving to Tianjin, I saw four different brides posing and posturing outside the Tianjin Concert Hall.  Why would they want to celebrate their marriage in such close proximity, I wondered?  What I didn’t know then was that the act of posing for wedding photographs in China is as prized as the vows on the big day themselves.  As you can see here, wedding photos are not of the wedding itself, but of the bride and groom looking as perfect and polished as possible, in a well-sourced, sophisticated location.  Before the big day, afterwards – timing is irrelevant.  Image, or the ever-present ‘face’, is of prime importance.  Here was I, thinking wedding photos were meant to be memories…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Weekend Wanderings

Temples, ferris wheels and late night city-scapes: photos from a not-so-typical Tianjin weekend…

Ex-pat Experiences

In the big scheme of things, most of the last month has been uneventful.  There have been no impromptu travel plans, no major Chinese festivals to give us a break from the daily grind.  In another sense, every day here is eventful.  Day-to-day life in China throws up any manner of moments that make for amusing anecdotes.  A common comment in the past few weeks has been how “normal” life in the Middle Kingdom has become.  Planning lessons, teaching classes, swapping stories.  Eating with chopsticks, sharing meals, struggling with the smog, strangers asking for your photo or phone number, dodging spit bullets on the street, squat toilets – it all becomes familiar very quickly.

This now-familiar environment is home to a thriving ex-pat community.  Undoubtedly, the ex-pat scene here is not on the scale of that of Beijing, Shanghai or Hong Kong, but its small size does help keep things friendly.  English teachers, students, and business suits make up the majority of waiguórén (foreigners) in Tianjin, and there’s one place where you’re likely to find a good few of them: Helen’s Bar.  Located in Nankai District, the original backpacker restaurant – with outposts in numerous other Asian cities – is where to go for a quiet píjiŭ (beer), kāfēi (coffee), or that jīròu (chicken) burger you’ve been craving for a fortnight.  The nationalities that frequent Helen’s are numerous: teachers from the UK, Italy, and America; students from Spain, Miami and Sweden; Stateside DJs with Cantonese agents.  Then there are, of course, the locals – Chinese who fancy some Western food, or want to practice their English.

Wall graffiti at Helen's Bar.

At the weekend, the party progresses from Helen’s on to one of the nearby clubs.  Chinese clubbing is an odd but enjoyable experience.  There’s Soul Bar, where we were given free alcohol and a table near the dance floor – VIP treatment that would have cost you a few hundred dollars in New York.  Then there was Le Nest 2, with strange music, strange surroundings, a helping of karaoke and a baby bopping on his father’s shoulder; needless to say that was our first and last visit to said establishment.  Our most recent weekend wandering took us to Scarlet, the interior decked out in Halloween garb, as were we.  The free glow-paint that accompanied the free alcohol definitely made for an interesting evening!

DJ booth at Soul Club

Aside from food, drink and fun times, the common denominator of most ex-pat experiences is the attempt to master Mandarin.  For some, myself included, a desire to learn the Chinese language was central to the move to China; for others, it is merely a way of surviving from one day to the next.  With four hours of Chinese class a week, I need to study seriously to maintain any momentum.  Luckily, the three friends I take classes with at the Tapei Language Institute provide plenty of encouragement and endless laughs.  I can finally tell the taxi driver when to stop to let me out; I can half-answer the inquiring questions of the shopkeepers near my apartment – even the one who suggested I was going to get fat if I ate the Snickers I had just purchased from her.

The view en route to Chinese class.

Life here is far from a 9-to-5. When you’re teaching 400 students, catching up with friends and learning the sentence structures of one of the most widely spoken languages on the planet, the ex-pat experience is an endlessly eventful one.

Stories from the Silk Road

Golden Week 2010 involved 38 hours of testing travelling for the reward of five days in Xi’an, the ancient Chinese capital of Cháng’āng.  Much of China was united from this region during the Qin dynasty, and wares were shipped along the Silk Road from this start point.  Xi’an may have retained only some of its ancient grandeur, but it is still a modern-day destination of choice for thousands of Chinese, not to mention oral English teachers.

The primary draw for tour trips here are the Terracotta Warriors, or Bīngmăyōng.  While a must-see for their fame and originality, the ‘Eighth” Wonder of the World was not as wondrous as expected; fighting elderly elbows to catch a glimpse of the still-standing battalions does dampen the experience slightly.  Of course, as we soon discovered, Xi’an has more than an underground army to offer.  Enclosing the centre of the city is the 14 kilometre-long ancient city wall, and I can personally attest that there is nothing better than careering along the top of this fort-like structure on a small rickety bike, sans helmet, under a clear blue sky.  With old Chinese architecture to one side and financial high rises to the other – not to mention the string of red lanterns and occasional temples en route – cycling the walls was an unforgettable highlight.  Then there were the pagodas, the Small Goose and Big Goose respectively; a viewing of the biggest water fountain show in Asia, seen from the centre of the action; an intriguing antiques market; a Drum Tower and a Bell Tower; laughter with friends on an unexpected dodgem ride; the heady smell of incense at a Taoist temple; and the hustle and bustle of the Muslim Quarter at night as food sellers and bargain makers encroached on the cobbled streets.  Coupled with the relaxing environs of our converted courtyard hostel, Xi’an had all the trappings of the perfect fall break.  If you ever find yourself at the end of the Silk Road, make sure you stop by the warriors – but don’t let that obscure your vision of Xi’an’s smaller sights and side streets.

The Drum Tower, as seen from the Bell Tower.

Street shrimp in the Muslim Quarter

A soldier's shoulder

Chanting at the Temple of the Eight Immortals.

Fountains at the Big Goose Pagoda

The Small Goose Pagoda