China Revisited -- 2013 [32]

Splendid China, part 2


Scale is often an issue for a foreigner in China. How does one imagine size and distance, for example?  How does one understand engineering, even with a knowledge of physics, a comprehension of mathematics, and an appreciation for architectural beauty? How does one understand weight and balance, motivation and vision, the costs of human labor?

Splendid China does not answer those questions, of course, but it provided for us a beginning, a point of reference; in short, a way to imagine the unimaginable.

The Great Wall, which runs for hundreds of miles across northern China and is one of the few ancient human structures visible from space, is one illuminating point of reference.  To see it in miniature run for hundreds of yards as a replica frees the imagination, even against the backdrop of modern Shenzhen, which is a product of Deng Xiaoping's vision in the early post-Mao era. One is prompted to think of the Great Wall as "the glory that was China." That is fair enough, but one ought not stop there.

It is necessary and helpful in all of these observations to think in terms of people as well as engineering, to think of citizens as well as emperors, to think of laborers as well as engineers and architects. The little costumed figures on the terraces and stairways allow the tourist to do that; they offer a human dimension that provides perspective both in terms of scale and of human activity.

In this regard, nothing is quite so moving as the model of central Beijing leading from the Temple of Heaven north to the Forbidden City. The actual structures, dating from the early 15th Century, were, among other things, designed to demonstrate physically the Emperor's connection to heaven.

The Temple of Heaven, the largest building in the world dedicated to the offering of sacrifices, lies at the southern end of a north/south axis, with the Forbidden City, home to Emperors from 1406 until 1911, at the northern end. The road linking these two complexes is, or was, roughly 4 miles.  The model in Splendid China, built to scale, runs at least a hundred yards from end to end.  In real life, even centuries ago, it would have been hard to see from end to end.  In miniature, that view is not only possible -- the scope of the endeavor itself gives one pause.

 

Consider also for a moment the fact that the entire route is lined on both sides with people, and not just ordinary people, mind you, important people who were summoned to take their places when the emperor traveled between the Forbidden City and the Temple of Heaven. Judging from the figures in the model, these men are standing roughly an arm's length apart after the fashion of soldiers who space themselves in formation by extending one arm to the shoulder of the next soldier.

 The scale model does not, of course, include extraneous building, which is both good and bad. The fact that there is no way to imagine clearly what Imperial Beijing beyond this axis is a loss. In modern Beijing, too, there are thousands of buildings that clutter this central plan, so the model is deficient in that sense too.

On the other hand, the model allows one to imagine the Imperial grip on Beijing, both in terms of architecture and in terms of power.  Part of the original intention of the first emperor's vision was to create a small model of the cosmos as it was or was intended to be understood. Beijing itself was then built in concentric rings around this central architecture.

What we as Americans know generally of this long complex construction is almost entirely related to what has been preserved of the Forbidden City. The Forbidden City with its 30 foot high red walls, its 800 buildings, and its 178 acres is one third the size of the Temple of Heaven.It required, apparently, a million laborers working steadily for 14 years. There are many facts and details that I need not mention here. But the sheer size and complexity of this endeavor is hard to comprehend even viewed in miniature.

The red wall of the Forbidden City, as everyone knows, is now additionally famous for it huge portrait of Chairman Mao.

But for the outsized gestures like this Mao portrait, the human figures are all but lost against this astonishing achievement.  This is indeed what puts the "splendid" in the name, Splendid China. Almost lost, but for me no less splendid, though in a different way, is the massive physical effort, the hidden human cost, that made this magnificent vision possible.

China Revisited -- 2013 [31]

Splendid China, part 1

One afternoon between our trip to the village, LuHe, and our days in Guangzhou, Edward told us he would take us to a cultural exhibition in central Shenzhen.

The place is called Splendid China. Were we interested?

Sure. Of course.  That's what we're here for.  Although we had never heard of it, the name is typically Chinese in its use of the grand descriptor "splendid." Splendid in many ways it is.

Splendid China is a new construction, a tourist destination built to show off all parts of China, not specifically the cultural sites of Shenzhen. It was described for us in various ways.  It is an outdoor museum / folk village after the order of Mumford Village (for folks in western New York), though on a vastly larger scale. It is a theme park of recreated places and structures that might make one think of Disney World -- without the fantasy and without the rides.

Well, maybe with a touch of fantasy and rides.

The entry to Splendid China features several huge displays of modern, cartoonish renderings of traditional Chinese things (like dragons) and new Chinese things -- all of which suggest the universal appeal of modern TV animation. Note the characters have "western" rather than Asian eyes.

On our visit to Splendid China, the kissing couple, more traditional and clearly Chinese, was drawing young folks who posed for photographs in front of it. I don't remember seeing too many of those young folks in the park itself, however. To be honest, there weren't many people of any age in the park on that day as the weather was cold and showers threatened.

[We did encounter a group of Korean tourists that we identified by the sound of their conversation. Quite a feat, I must say.  Donna called "Anyounghaseao (hello!)" as their open carriage drove by us.]


Edward parked at the car entrance, in an partially submerged parking garage just beyond an enormous tree that I remember as being a tropical species of sycamore.

The cultural center itself had no other Disney-like characters that I remember, although it did have an aerial tram for those who wanted a seated overview. We chose to spend our visit on foot, all four hours of it, which began with a series of imposing stone archways that lent a more traditional "weight" to the park entrance. We did not have time to visit every corner of the park and we did not see any of the cultural shows that were offered in better weather.

These arches, like nearly everything in the park, were newly constructed replicas rather than old originals; they create the look and feel of an ancient imperial city, although no ancient sites had been scavanged for artifacts. At other displays in the park, as, for example, with the Great Wall reproduction, the model is so vast in its scaled down version as to demand an emotional response. One cannot help but be impressed by this staggering feat of engineering, ingenuity, and physical labor. 

The mission of Splendid China is, objectively speaking, preposterous.  How does one take the mind-boggling variables -- a land mass the size of China, a civilization that spans 5,000 years, and a population that includes 56 ethnic groups -- and adequately represent it in one "theme park"?

To be fair, one could hardly do justice to China's diversity, scale, and longevity even with a life-time of free travel and ready access. Nevertheless, Splendid China accomplishes some significant things.

In an odd way the large and the small replicas, and the presence of floral "representatives,"achieved a sense of "China" that would be hard to create short of the life-long tour I have just suggested.

Perhaps the first conclusion one might draw from these re-creations of the wonders of China is just how varied China actually is. I grew up while China was a very "closed kingdom," imagining China as a land of exotic wonders and drab daily existence -- this was during Mao's early years, after all -- but never in terms of diversity.  I would have thought that the Chinese were uniformly Chinese, with one language, one form of writing, one identifiable look, one mode of dress (sometimes plain, sometimes fancier), one means of living, and so on.

Although much of what was unknown about China in those days is knowable today and while no intelligent westerner would admit to holding the kind of singular view of things Chinese that I just described, the fact remains that we often don't think past the false notion of China as a mono-culture. The truth is -- and the value of a tourist destination like Splendid China is -- that mono-culture idea is quite simply false.

Splendid China will never replace visiting actual cities, countryside, and historical sites, of course; no recreation can. And we will want to see the actual terra cotta figures and the Great Wall on our next visit.

But  Splendid China is, in fact, an efficient way to begin understanding the Chinese complexity.  China is many things: it is mystery, it is confusion, it is contradiction, it is elegance and dignity; it is in many ways overwhelming.  It is a long, significant, complex history. It is many enchanting cultures. It is diverse and fascinating peoples.

But China is not fantasy.

One of the ways that Splendid China is different from a place like Disneyland is that while it creates fantasy it is not really a destination. The fantasy is wanting to see the real thing -- all of it.

China Revisited -- 2013 [30]

Nearing The End

We did not see everyone we had hoped to see on our trip to China.  We did not see Tra, who is Vietnamese and had hoped to travel up from Hanoi.  Nor did we see Frances, who lives in southern China but was unable to travel down to Guangzhou while we were there due to a rare snowstorm that brought transportation to a halt.

But we did see Candy and Vicky, who were home on holiday break from their universities in the States.

Candy is one of our two year home-stay daughters. She is studying at Baruch College in New York City. We met her and her parents for dinner at a gorgeous restaurant near Splendid China in Shenzhen. This photograph is essentially a fish tank built into a wall beneath the restaurant's signature tiles, which are a traditional local feature.

Sadly, I do not have a close-up picture of her for this account, due to the memory card incident that I keep mentioning. Suffice it to say, she has become a beautiful, accomplished young woman. We had met her mother while Candy was an Academy student, but not her father.

Our time with Candy was too short.  The most memorable food item at this restaurant was not actually something served to us.  As we were leaving the eating area and looking both for rest rooms and a setting for group pictures, we were stopped in our tracks by a parade of  uniformed food servers filing out of the kitchen and heading down the hall toward banquet rooms where wedding celebrations were under way.

Each server carried a tray with a whole pig with flashing pink eyes.  The line of servers with pigs kept coming. I estimate at least three dozen of these little porkers flashed past!

Apparently the pig itself is not eaten in this form. What we saw was essentially the outer pig, the skin from snout to corkscrew tail, which I gather is sampled as an appetizer.

One server stopped for Candy to take a picture, as its roasted compatriots processed, flashing and shining, down the hall toward the banquet rooms.

There are no easy transitions from pigs with flashing eyes.  It is a little like speaking after someone who has brought the house down.

On our last night in Shenzhen we had dinner with Vicky and her mother in a restaurant in the community where Edward lives. She was delayed traveling to Edward's house.  The 30 minute drive took two hours due to traffic.

To pass the time Donna and I started playing ping-pong. The sound of the ball on the table must have carried upstairs because soon the younger maid came down to watch. As soon as she appeared, I gave her my paddle. Clearly she was delighted.  She and Donna played with great spirit and much laughter for about 15 minutes before Vicky came.

Among other problems resulting from the drops my camera suffered was the loss of the flash.

Vicky was an Academy classmate of Edward and Yujia.  She lived two doors down from us at the Woodards'. Like them, she is also attending Syracuse University.

This dinner, like the dinner with Candy, was geared toward foreign tastes, so we ate more western style.
Despite that disclaimer, I made note of several gourmet items on the menu: Buddha-jump-over-the-wall soup, which features sea squirt and chicken feet; Braised shredded snake meat with abalone soup, which speaks for itself; Braised wild boar belly in brown sauce; and wok-fried oysters and chicken testicles, an item that wants no comment from me.

During our conversation with Vicky, as we discussed our eating experiences, she informed us, "I do not eat organs."

To our American ears, she seemed to be saying, it's OK to be selective.

China Revisited -- 2013 [29]

Auspicious Timing

YuSi was the first of our Chinese home stay daughters from the mainland. She followed YatShen, whom we called Janet, also Chinese, but from Hong Kong.  HongKongese, as she would say.

YuSi and Jacky, also a former Houghton Academy student, came to our hotel to pick us up in the afternoon of our visit with Angel's parents. They wanted to take us across the city to YuSi's house and then to dinner.

YuSi's uncle drove the four of us back in the direction of  Chen's Lineage Hall. He was cheerful but quiet. He spoke no English so beyond "Ni Hao" we couldn't talk with him.We did the stop and go thing again at every intersection. Lots of cars and buses. Lots of scooters and panel trucks.  Lots of pedestrians.

We drove first to YuSi's house, which is a fairly new, free-standing house in a gated apartment complex.  Sadly, I did not have a working camera at this point due to the memory card incident. The few pictures I do have were taken on YuSi's iPhone.

YuSi's house is two stories with a basement.  Her father has an acoustically engineered listening room down there where he goes to sit with his eyes closed and take in the music. He is clearly a cultured man, someone I would like a long conversation with another time.  We met him briefly two years ago, although our lack of a common language kept the conversation down. We, too, were on a "Ni Hao" basis, although I might not have known "Ni Hao" at that point.

The upper two floors of the Wu house are modern by any standard, with marble floors, lots of woodwork, high ceilings in the living room, and many pieces of modern art, including a large painting with "peace" written in many languages. By large I mean 6' X 8' or 8'X10'. It doesn't sound all that compelling but it was actually quite striking. A word painting.

In another part of the apartment complex we visited the home of another former Houghton Academy student who had been in Donna's classes, Jack.  He is not to be confused with Jacky, who comes with YuSi. His parents are calligraphers. Artists. Jack was out of the country, a student; but his mother was home.  They are friends of YuSi's parents. She took us into their studio and let us look at the paintings and calligraphy they were working on.

The studio was a large rectangular room with high ceilings, many flat work areas, and dozens of art pieces hung or stacked. Chinese calligraphy is practiced with a vertical brush held over a horizontal surface. I was permitted to try my hand, so I tried out a few Korean letters that I remembered from our days in Busan.

At the end of the afternoon we climbed back into cars with Jack's mother, YuSi's aunt and Jack's cousin who spoke English well from a 10 year stint in Canada. It was after dark when we arrived at the LiWan Lake Park. The park has a number of lakes, ancient banyan trees, weeping willows, exotic flowers, and birds, most of which we were not actually able to see. What we saw mostly were lights, which were beautiful.

We ate at the Panxi Restaurant, which lies along the lake shore. Its 40 eating rooms (many of them huge)  can serve 3,000 customers at one time.  As we walked along a hallway open to the lake on one side, we passed at least 5 wedding celebrations.

Everyone, including brides and bridesmaids, was wearing jackets because of the cold.  What we found amusing was that the bride would pull off her puffy white jacket to pose for a picture or two and then put it right back on.


When we commented about the number of wedding celebrations in one place on one evening, we were told it was an auspicious date, so many had chosen that day for the wedding.

The Panxi is a Cantonese dim sum restaurant. We wore our winter jackets into out private room like everyone else. But we had enough experience by now to know that after a few cups of hot tea and a bit of soup, the body would warm up enough to allow us to take off our jackets.

In addition to its beautiful landscaping and architecture, which we saw mostly in terms of lights, the Panxi is famous for its little animals, especially the dumpling rabbits with carrot bits for eyes and the bread pigs.  You can't do much better than bread pigs.

We also had pig curry, lotus root, and fried chicken with potato chips. Pig curry and lotus root are clear enough, but the fried chicken and potato chips need a point of clarity.  We are not talking KFC and Lays here.

Somewhere between the rabbits and pigs, Yusi and Jackie asked us if we could stay in Guangzhou until January 14th.

As we were to fly back on the 10th and expected to be teaching on the 14th, we said, Sorry, no. What's so special about the 14th?

It was, we were told, an auspicious date. They had chosen that date to get married.

Such good news -- but after six or seven years of dating, why not give some advance warning? We would have found a way to stay for the wedding. Well, we were told, there is no wedding, just a registration with the local authorities.  The celebrations, of which there would be three, would come later, no doubt on other auspicious dates.