Notes From Xi'an 西安随感

This is going to be one of those more personal Notes From Xi’an, as during the May holiday I was back in my wife’s village for a few days and, over and above it being our first year wedding anniversary, it was a particularly pleasant and significant trip. When we were back at Ling’s home just before Spring Festival it became very clear to me that Ling’s parents, having supported both her and her younger brother through college and university, had not benefited from the “luxury” of having a child working out in one of the Southern cities sending money home: a reality for many female siblings coming from the countryside. Not to mention the actual money her parents would have saved if they hadn’t put Ling (the daughter) through University.

What was clear was that the re-development of the Chinese village – which has gone on in the last 5-10 years and which has meant the turning of small and simple family homes into gleaming white-tiled, two-storey rural homesteads – had passed Ling’s parents by. As we were leaving last time, I turned to look back at the village nestled in amongst the fields and recognized just how conspicuous the recent changes visible in other parts of the village were by their absence in Ling’s home. It did seem like it was time to get the family around the kitchen table and to discuss what the next move might be.

neighbouring fields

When we came back over the ridge to the village this time, Ling initially could not even locate her childhood home. A second floor had been built, a new roof with new beams and new tiles was in place, there were newly tiled exterior walls and interior floors, as well as gleaming new windows running the length of the upper rooms, and – for the first time – an inside bathroom and toilet. I even got to help drill out the concrete in the front yard that would allow pipes to be laid, which in turn would supply running water to the house for the first time. We were all there gathered together in the kitchen when the first stream of water came through. Happy days, indeed.

new home

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This is just a quick Note to introduce a few pictures I took of the Dàzú Rock Carvings at Bǎodǐngshān (宝顶山), or maybe more importantly it is a quick Note to remind anyone heading to Chongqing that this UNESCO World Heritage site is worth checking out (link, link, link). We nearly did not make it ourselves, as time was short, but Ling got us signed-up on what was to be my first Chinese tour. And, I am pleased she did, even if they did do their best to devalue the process, but I will leave the amusing anecdotes for another day. Suffice it to say, I was very glad we rose early on our last morning in Chongqing and got on that bus to Dàzú. For future reference, if we had had more time – and now we know the area is worth it – we would have taken the option of staying in Dàzú itself and organising the local transport from there. This would have given us the opportunity to spend more time at Bǎodǐngshān (宝顶山), while also allowing us to discover one or two more of the other 4 sites that are in the Dàzú area.

As it is, I feel lucky that we got out there at all. My overwhelming feeling as we walked around the site was that the work on Bǎodǐngshān (Bǎodǐng Mountain) really is something of a wonder of the world. And, this was not just because of the scale, detail, creativity and variety of the work, or how amazingly it has been preserved, but that a man – monk Zhào Zhìfèng (赵智凤) – had spent 70 years of his life – 800 years ago – in this beautiful gorge creating these varied and intricate sculptures. It felt good to contemplate Zhào spending the vast majority of his life in this beautifully secluded and idyllic mountain grove, both as sculptor and curator of this spectacular synthesis of Buddhist, Daoist and Confucianist imagery. When I sat back and looked at this small gorge with its u-shaped rock faces over-hung with shrubbery, curving around a swaying canopy of bamboo and wild flora, and with a beautiful river valley running below, I could not help but think of the joy (religious or otherwise) that must have been involved in this creation. To rise every morning in this natural environment to continue your calling, to create something of meaning and beauty, must have been quite something – even if a fair bit of hard work also went into the process. I am glad that I got a moment, however brief, to appreciate it.

The spirit of Zhào Zhìfèng‘s life was very clearly highlighted as we exited the compound to find a chap sitting at a little stall haphazardly cutting out identical- looking stone souvenirs; that he was readying to sell for a few kuai. The juxtaposition of these two lives and creations stressed quite profoundly all the things that are wrong with our world. It was a moment to truly glory in the value of long-term commitment, slow progress, creativity and dedication, to savor the value of true craftspeople, educationalists, visionaries, philosophers, dreamers, idealists, environmentalists, artists, writers, poets, even believers of various guises. And, it was a moment to shun the extraordinary abundance of mass-manufactured crap that everywhere surrounds us. I recommend a trip to Dàzú.

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When it comes to traveling, and when you have traveled a reasonable amount, there is something to be said for first impressions of places. They are often the ones that stay with you and they do, quite often, get right to it in terms of getting a true sense of somewhere. So, with that excuse for making sweeping generalizations about Chongqing out the way, I will get on with offering my own take on the city.

The first thing that struck me when arriving in Chongqing was how it reminded me of Kolkata in Northern India, a city I passed through on my way to China. I had reached Kolkata by train before taking a rusted ferry across the murky waters of the Hooghly River; I still remember, as we edged across the silty current, beginning to make out the buildings on the opposite bank through the fog. I also recall the air and the vista full of the distress and poverty that Kolkata has become famous for around the world. Here, in Chongqing, we got off a train, got into a taxi and traversed the Jialing River by road bridge, the same kind of murky river waters below us and the incomprehensible growth of tower blocks rising before us. They climbed from the river’s edge all the way up the sub-tropical hillsides that make up this Chongqing basin, and spread along the river as far as we could see.

I had heard about aspects of Chongqing before coming here and it was immediately apparent that those pre-conceived ideas were not far from the mark. Chongqing is an epic city, an atmospheric metropolis, with hints of South-East Asian islands poking out from in between the realities of any other Chinese mega city. But, here it is on a scale that actually feels exciting. It suddenly seemed so suited to Bo Xilai’s governing style that had become so famous in these parts. It was the perfect setting – with Chongqing’s sub-tropical humidity and poisonous pollution hanging in the air – for the subsequent scandal involving him, his wife, his chief of police and an English businessman. It suddenly felt like: “Only in Chongqing.”

It was not, however, just the polluted urban riverscape that took my mind so clearly back to the streets of Kolkata; it was also the luan-ness and the very obvious everyman nature of Chongqing. Luan in Chinese means something close to chaotic and disordered, carrying with it a sense of indiscriminateness and arbitrariness, and that is how this city can feel. Chongqing is a fantastical concoction of 30 (+)-storey buildings standing on once-lush green plots of land that are only just wide enough for a building’s foundations. Hundreds of apartment buildings, offices and hotels rise at every level around you; the footings of one building planted beside the 10th floor of another, the roof of one shabby apartment block just a short jump, if you are that way inclined, from the entrance to another. In between all this construction are steep ancient stairways and ramshackle street-level, tarpaulin-draped hutted communities, which weave old and new lives together. While, bound up in all this – and in the humidity-ridden, rain-soaked and river-induced moldy dampness that grows upon all the walls and street – is the other noticeable aspect of Chongqing that reminded me of Kolkata, and that is the poverty.

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We passed through Chóngqìng for a few days last week on the way to a friend’s wedding in Fúlíng, and enjoyed the experience. When I get some time I will finish a Note I started writing while we were there, as Chóngqìng is quite a city and worth spending a bit of time dwelling on. I will also add a separate Note with photographs that I took of the Dàzú Rock Carvings, a UNESCO World Heritage Site hidden in the hills west of Chóngqìng, as it is a spot I am very glad we ended up making it out to (specifically Mount Baoding and the work by monk Zhao Zhifeng). First, however, I will include a few pictures that I took one unexpectedly beautiful evening (Chóngqìng style) from up on the Huáng Huá Yuán Bridge: looking first west along the Jīalíng River, and then east towards Cháotiānmén – the point where the Jīalíng River meets the Yángzǐ River (Cháng Jiāng). With all that I have heard about Chóngqìng (heat, humidity, migration, pollution etc) I can’t believe evenings like this come around too often, but whether they do or not I certainly felt lucky to be up on the bridge that night watching a pretty special sunset over a quite incredible city.

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This time last year I offered a “Contemporary Chinese Nod Towards the Ubiquitous New Year Calendar“. This year, I will continue in a similar vein but this year the images will come from a recent trip to the small canal town of Xītáng, which is located not far from Hángzhōu.

We took a Christmas break to the Eastern canal towns and thoroughly enjoyed doing so. It was cold but not too cold to happily wander around, though, we were lucky we had the sun on our side. Being the winter season there weren’t too many people around, which was also good. I really did enjoy taking it easy by the waters of Xītáng, but I was also impressed with the thought that has gone into developing the city of Sūzhōu, compared that is to many other Chinese cities – Hángzhōu and Xīān included.

*With this not being a “real” calendar the images all come from Xītáng during our visit in December and are not representative of the different seasons that the months below might suggest – and as someone recently questioned.

JANUARY – A whole bunch of dedicated art students braved the cold to enjoy some fresh days and produce some fine work.

FEBRUARY – The boatman drink a lot of tea this time of year, but it was a pleasure to watch a few of them still manoeuvre their boats rhythmically down stream.

MARCH – This is a tourist town but it is still a good spot to take it easy, especially this time of year – and certainly between monday and friday – when there are few tourists around.

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Over the last few years Xi’an has become the place I refer to as home. However, that has not stopped me from recently suffering a few re-integration issues after returning from 2 months back in my official homeland. It felt like no normal re-acclimatization process this time, although, maybe it actually was; it was just not one I am used to experiencing.

When I first arrived in China, 5 or so years ago, I was coming off the back of quite a few months of travel in India. So, as far as I was concerned, Xi’an was an oasis of calm and modernity. Not quite the sentiment others often express when arriving here for the first time, I know. Even if many people backpacking around China do usually find Xi’an a pretty chilled place to hang out for a few days.

The point being, that from my first impressions until recently, Xi’an was a pretty relaxed place to be. I have never felt in need of the advice that was passed on to me when I first arrived in India. There I was told by a few thoughtful and prescient old hands that I should always be aware of looking out for places to retreat to for a few days, or even for the odd week or two.

Whether that place was an isolated beach community, a mountain forest hideaway, a nature reserve, a nice hotel, a temple sanctuary, or just a good bookshop, it was important to find some space and time to escape the intensity of street life in India, which, from time to time, could seep into every pore of your being and every aspect of your thought. (Which is not a criticism by the way). It was advice I took, and it certainly served me well. When I lost sight of it, while moving across the north of India, I suffered.

This isn’t something that I have ever felt applied to life here in Xi’an. My recent re-introduction to Xi’an life, though, has made me re-appraise that perception. Xi’an has by no means reached the epic intensity of daily life in India – it is still so much quieter, cleaner and calmer in comparison, and it does still have a somewhat laid back atmosphere – but there is an indelible mark that a life lived here can now leave on you.

Getting out and about town with the masses in the mornings is to feel the full force of the life changes going on here. Taking a taxi ride around the second ring road, let alone the third, is to get a sense of the scale of the development that is recasting this city. While getting down in amongst the small chéngzhōngcūn(s) at night (city villages), those that still exist, is to really feel the lifeblood of this urban centre. Life here really can grip you.

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It was this time last year that my wife and I came across a few pictures of the lakes of Xinjiang and decided to pack our bags and head north west.

We knew about the turmoil of life up there, we knew some of the history, and we knew something of Kashgar, but we were just heading for a holiday. We wanted to leave city life behind us and get up in the mountains and amongst the lakes. And, that is what we did.  Though, while riding the trains and buses with the locals we did discover more than just the geography of the region. This is the Note I wrote upon returning to Xi’an last year.

I am going to add a small selection of the pictures we took as a nod towards the holiday season that is again just around the corner. I have split these photographs into two sets, one, simply entitled “Arid Lands”, one, “Lake Oases”. This is a simple distinction that represents the amazing contrasts that are encapsulated within the borders of Xinjiang: the lush, alpine valleys and immaculate mountain lakes, and the dry, arid towns and rocky desert-scapes. It is a region in China that is well worth discovering. (Part II – Lake Oases)

A quiet back street in the "new" old town of Shan Shan, near Turpan (تۇرپان - 吐魯番 - Tǔlǔfān)

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It was this time last year that my wife and I came across a few pictures of the lakes of Xinjiang and decided to pack our bags and head north west.

We knew about the turmoil of life up there, we knew some of the history, and we knew something of Kashgar, but we were just heading for a holiday. We wanted to leave city life behind us and get up in the mountains and amongst the lakes. And, that is what we did.  Though, while riding the trains and buses with the locals we did discover more than just the geography of the region. This is the Note I wrote upon returning to Xi’an last year.

I am going to add a small selection of the pictures we took as a nod towards the holiday season, that is again just around the corner. I have split these photographs into two sets, one, simply entitled “Arid Lands”, one, “Lake Oases”. This is a simple distinction that represents the amazing contrasts that are encapsulated within the borders of Xinjiang: the lush, alpine valleys and immaculate mountain lakes, and the dry, arid towns and rocky desert-scapes. It is a region in China that is well worth discovering. (Part I – Arid Lands)

The road from Bu’erjin to Lake Kanas was in itself worth the trip this far north.

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Images first, explanation second: but we must be clear from the outset that I cannot take any credit at all for the images that I have included below, even if I would of course love to. I will just have to be happy simply basking in the reflected glory that comes from presenting this small selection of Sue Anne Tay’s work. These photographs are taken from Sue Anne’s website Shanghai Street Stories, which she kindly gave me permission to use here (each picture links to the original image and the story behind it).

street focused - sue anne tay's shanghai street stories - 24th may 2010

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I was back on a high-speed train again this week and returning to another of those ancient Chinese centres of historical significance, Zhèngzhōu, with its pre-dynasty stories, Luòyáng grottoes close by and modern day Henan Provincial Museum. All of which can help fill the gap between our modern day sense of what China is (a quick look around Zhèngzhōu certainly gives due reminder of what that is) and our knowledge of the epic historical layers upon which it is built. It was great to be up with the March morning sun, out across town, and wandering in through the gates of the museum with a handful of other early birds out there catching the proverbial worm.

However, not only did I have a few thousand years of ancient Chinese artefacts waiting for me in all their peaceful and inspiring splendour, within what is an Indiana Jones-esque, pyramid-like structure of a museum, but I also had Laszlo Montgomery along for the trip. He was to accompany me around these great halls of everyday Xià (夏), Shāng (商) and Zhōu (周) Dynasty artefacts, and around those precious Suí (隋) and Táng (唐) Dynasty treasures, giving my time there a more uplifting feel.

Laszlo Montgomery, for the un-introduced, is a curator of sorts but not one of the museum kind. He is the creator, producer and custodian of a super set of Chinese History Podcasts which he presents in his own idiosyncratic American and Putonghua ways, broadcasting from down in: “lovely and quaint Claremont, California”. His series of podcasts have covered Chinese history from the Xià to Mao in very manageable chunks, easily accessible to those unaware of the complexities that make up ancient and modern Chinese history, a group I am certainly a member of.

It’s always a bit too easy to get exhibit-overload on a first and singular visit to a large museum or gallery, and as I had known a couple of trips to Zhèngzhōu were coming up, I had resolved to check out one floor each time I came to town (there are only 3). This time I decided to get Laszlo’s knowledgeable articulations to accompany me. That way it was easier to be introduced quickly and in a lively manner to the Warring States, Liú Bāng (刘邦) and Xiàng Yǔ (向隅), and a host of dates, other characters, bizarre rituals and battles that this museum and geographical area celebrate. (more…)