China
prepares for the Olympics in August
2008: Its expressways and turnpikes landscaped to perfection by hand,
crane after crane poking long arms into every photo, hectic stretches
of midnight construction, dozens and dozens of workers with shovels.
Our
guide is Louise, 75 years old and from Gaspé. |
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She fell in
love with China 22 years ago and learned Mandarin. Her passion
transforms our trip. “I’m brand new,” she
announces. “Both hips replaced last August, and I’m
ready to go.” She takes the mike at the front of the bus. She
has an opinion: “You’ve come to China and you will
return less ignorant,” emphasizing the word ignorant. In
French, the word niaiseux rolls off her tongue, rendering the point
indelible. The bus driver takes a sip of tea from his Mason jar, screws
the lid back on and rests both arms on the wheel, waiting for a
circular traffic jam to clear. “Oh, I just love Chinese
traffic jams,” Louise swivels back in her seat.
“Watch this.
| Every
pair of eyes in our group of 12
watches. A coterie of ancient army trucks, bicycles, renovated
motorcycles, foot carriages and small rust-free cars untangles itself
from a knot, slowly and surely. Its 32 degrees out there with a
humidity level moving it into the high 30s. |
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From
our seats in an
air-conditioned minivan, the scene is more captivating than CSI.
We’ve
arrived after a 30-hour journey to China to visit its major cities, the
so-called Classic China tour, and every minute after only two days
brings us closer to sensory overload. We don’t want to miss a
thing!
Early
the next morning we’re on the Great Wall. It’s the
first week of May.
China is on holiday. The Wall is packed with us and them. We inch our
way up the steps cautiously. They’re stone hard and
inconsistent in
size. We keep our eyes on our shoes.
| I feel
that I’m being
watched, rather, stared at. Eyes bore holes through my body. What are
they looking at? I’m one of hundreds of tourists; no
different, taller
perhaps, blue eyes, brown hair. During a break on another
section of
the Wall, a teenager approaches with a certain boldness.
She’d like her
friend to take a picture of the two of us. |
Limestone formations grace the Li River.
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I
gaze obligingly into the
camera and notice the lens focused on my shoes! Of course! My shoes are
red, and the Chinese love red. Aha!
As we trek across Tiananmen
Square, the Forbidden City, the Sky Temple, the Ming tombs, and the
Lama Temple, my red shoes are it!
Travelling
with a group and the guides
The
days fly by and I’m getting into the luxuries of my first
guided tour:
Restaurants, hotels and flights booked and paid for in advance, the
drivers knowing whether to turn left or right, and local guides
arranging entrance tickets. Our Beijing guide focuses on ancient
Chinese history, barely mentioning China’s turbulent 20th
century,
including the Cultural Revolution. Louise explains that many people
still find it hard to discuss what happened then as families were torn
apart and a country of which the people are very proud was deeply
divided and lost much economic ground.
| The
Chinese sense of
identity is fuelled by their country’s massive economic and
cultural
progress over the last 25 years. Many work more than one job, earning
less in a year than the average Canadian in a month. The more fortunate
few drive BMWs, Mercedes and Volvos. They live in mansions with a
second generation growing up thoroughly spoiled and little incentive to
work like their parents. Sound familiar? |
Terraced gardens conserve water and
turn hillsides into productive land.
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We
learn how the
one-child per family policy railroaded into effect in 1979 has many
unintended effects. It’s expensive and intrusive. Only rural
families
and minorities are allowed two children, however, some have more who
are unreported and therefore receive no education. A preference for
males has created a generation of little spoiled boys who are treated
as “little emperors”. They are ill prepared for
adult life and the
competition for a female mate, hence a source for social tension.
What
we take for granted
I
buy several postcards from pushy street vendors who mob us each time we
step out of the bus. Envelopes from our hotels are printed without
adhesive and I’m hardly reassured that they’ll be
properly closed when
handed in at the hotel reception. Once I ask to shut them myself,
however, I only get so far as to watch the clerk glue stick the
envelope, a poignant reminder of censorship. We learn later that
citizens wishing to stage a protest must register their intent in
advance with the authorities, as in Canada. Public demonstrations in
China, however, give officials the opportunity to take pictures. If
you’ve marched in a demonstration and decide weeks or months
later to
take a little trip, you may find your plans foiled by security
officials at the border who recall your participation with proof of
their pictures.
And
then, there’s the food!
The
first week we eat like kings and queens! Every morning, the
hotels’
fancy spread includes four kinds of zhou or porridge (bean, rice, curd
and oatmeal), dim sum of all sorts, cold cuts, salads, dumplings, fried
tofu, noodles, sticky rice, pork squares and meat balls, egg and meat
rolls, sponge and gingeli cakes, soups, steamed sweet buns, croissants,
Danish, scrambled and boiled eggs, cereals and tailor-made
omelettes.
“What is that?” I asked after consulting the label
that read se la mi.
It looks like round pieces of a cold cut. “Salami,
silly,” comes the
retort, quickly.
Chinese restaurants handle crowds with aplomb
and upon sitting down for lunch, plates of vegetable rice,
beef with
onions, chicken cubes with tofu, whole fish (yes the head came with the
eyes intact), hand-pulled noodles, minced pork, a variety of tasty
vegetables and flavourful soups covers the table. Red, green and white
melons are desserts. Sometimes we ask the servers what we’re
being
served and the answer is “Don’t know.”
My clothes tighten rather
quickly despite hours of daily walking. The second week we eat less and
by the third week, we’ve calmed down to notice that
we’ve never seen
salt and pepper, bread and butter, red wine, coffee or sweet desserts!
With each meal, we’re offered one glass of light beer and
green tea. I
find a small bottle of ginseng wine, root included, in a 7-11 in Hong
Kong for $2. Medicinal and rough, I thought it would taste lovely if I
were ill. (Apparently it was wise, I was told later, to have turned
down the opportunity to taste a pickled snake spirit served directly
from a large jar, snake still very visible.)
Entertainment,
the arts and leisure
We’re
treated to spectacular Beijing opera with its colourful costumes and
squeaky pitches. Shanghai acrobats dazzle us with balancing acts. The
Xian Dynasty dinner theatre is awesome. Brush and black ink artists
paint our names on home-made paper and on traditional Chinese seals
weighing a ton. We visit traditional Chinese pharmacists who weigh and
dispense herbs, roots and all sorts of concoctions from a dizzying
display of boxes. We tour Suzhou’s world-famous gardens
created on the
principles of feng (wind) and shui (water). We watch porcelain,
ceramics, sculpture, bronze, jade, calligraphy and embroidery in the
making. China’s art scene is flourishing and a recent article
in The
Economist discusses how the number of museums is “really
getting out of
hand!”
My ignorance of China quickly disappears. The National
Geographic China of my childhood still exists in the countryside
perhaps, however it’s far from today’s reality.
China’s cities are
super clean (they sweep the rain!) and ultra-modern with the latest in
shopping malls and mega stores. Xian for example, home of the Army of
Terracotta Warriors, is a city of seven million. It plans to build a
subway system in less than two years. “You’ve come
in order to
understand China,” our local guide at Guilin begins.
“Instead you
experience a headlong rush into the future, a hectic rapidly growing
country that is bewildering, dynamic and colourful. We are 1.3 billion
people and we are everywhere, no?”
Peace
and quiet
It
is at Guilin where we find at last what most Westerners still think of
China: endless rice paddies, peasants shouldering loads of produce,
side-street mechanical repair shops and of course, the straw hats.
Say
the word Guilin and watch the looks of rapture and pride on the faces
of Chinese people. Thousands of little hills composed of bizarre
limestone up thrusts grace the Li River, their images transposed on
traditional Chinese calligraphy, bamboo artwork and poetry books. Last
year’s release of The Painted Veil with Edward Norton was
filmed here.
Painters and poets have celebrated the area for centuries. It is
postcard perfect, in rain or sun.
A
lesson
Louise
gives us a few lessons in vocabulary and more than one on simple
practicalities, such as crossing the street. “Watch how the
traffic and
the people flow,” she said. “There are very few
accidents despite a
population of one bicycle for every two people. And I’ll give
you $100
if you see a helmet!” I spend hours watching the traffic that
slides in
and out like water, finding its own way. “When crossing a
street,” she
adds, “keep walking. Don’t run and don’t
stop.” I remember this a
little too late the next day when the thunder of thousands of bicycles
roar closer and closer. “This must be what Formula One sounds
like,”
I’m thinking, “and I’m dead,”
reaching the sidewalk just in the nick of
time. Whew!
Experience
China and the numbers
It
is said that numbers are only numbers, yet it’s difficult not
to be
impressed by them over and over again. During our 23 days, I
experienced about six seconds’ daytime silence. We see the
sun twice
for less than a minute each time. One third of the population smokes -
everywhere. Shanghai is New York 12 times over. It has grown to 17
million people in 20 years, give or take 3 million. It stretches 50 by
45 miles, the distance from Montreal to Granby. The tallest building in
China is 660 meters high. There’s a crane on the top because
they’re
adding another 10 meters. The foundation for a 1,200-meter high
building has been laid. There are hundreds of temples and few churches.
According to the local newspaper The China Daily, China expects to
build 750 cities over the next 15 years.
As Louise says, you cannot simply read about China, you must GO and
experience it. There is so much, so much.
Getting
there:
Air Canada to Vancouver, then 9 hours direct to Beijing, crossing the
dateline into the next day. Coming back from Hong Kong is 11 hours to
Vancouver, then 5 back to Montreal. We travelled with Club Voyages, who
arranged everything for $5,700, flight, accommodations, transfers,
taxes, tips and entry fees. It pays to shop around.
Entry
Requirements:
A Chinese visa obtained at least 3 months prior to departure, usually
arranged for by the travel agency. Be prepared to part with your
passport for several weeks or go to the Chinese embassy yourself for
the visa (roughly $90).
Vaccinations:
Medisys will roll out the carpet on vaccinations! The list is long,
particularly if you're planning to stay in the countryside. Our
vaccinations took place over 3 visits and cost between $300 and $400.
Some members of our group choose not to have any vaccinations. Imodium
is a must.
Climate:
May
and October are the best months to go. Even so, be prepared for extreme
fluctuations in temperature (e.g., 35C in May and 10C in October). Very
little rain and too much smog to see the sun.
Language:
Mandarin. Very few people, even in hotels, speak English although some
Chinese signs are translated loosely into English. Learn a few symbols
and basic words, brush up on sign language. Make sure your national
tour guide speaks at least some Chinese as some local guides are
difficult to understand.
Currency: Divide the Yuan by 7 to give
yourself an approximate C$ or U$ equivalent. When bargaining, start
with 75% less than what you're initially offered. It's fun!
Editor’s
Note: Adena Franz is an avid traveller, and a successful financial
advisor associated with MacDougall, MacDougall and MacTier.
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