China - 3 - The Year of the Monkey

I am a tiger*.....

The streets are filled with scraps of red paper, the remains of thousands of firecrackers. The Year of the Monkey - the Fire Monkey indeed, ambitious, adventurous, but irritable - has begun.....  I check with my astrologer:  I am a Tiger, something that later in the day I may come to regret.....

As we leave Ping'an, I notice that the hillsides are splashed with pink, as well, as suddenly random trees have started to blossom.  Also, as it is now the Spring Festival proper, and the family duties of the Lunar New Year have been carried out, tourists, both Chinese and foreign, are beginning to pour into the village, and we see diminutive women carrying huge suitcases up the steep paths, and a palanquin, slung between two sinewy men, bears a mother and her child up the steps past us.

We leave the mountains.  On the way we pay our respects to the Red Yao women again, 

And admire what hangs on their washing line.....

Before plunging down towards Guilin again.  On the way, we were supposed to be visiting a tea estate, but, sadly, this was closed.  Because of the Spring Festival.

Instead, to while away a little time before our flight, we are taken to the Xiongsen Bear and Tiger Mountain Village, which, despite its alluring name, is quite the saddest, most dilapidated zoo I have ever seen.

We were not allowed to take photographs (though Chinese visitors were) under the pretext that research was going on here.  But I think the real reason is that Richard Jones visited in 2010 and wrote about this horror story in the Mail Online:(http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1252500/Exposed-Dark-secret-farm-tigers-bodies-plundered-make-185-wine.html);  I don't recommend you read it, as it will spoil your appreciation of China, and I will probably get into trouble for stirring up unrest. Suffice it to say that there are three kinds of animals in this zoo.  Some thousand or more tigers, who lie limply around in foul conditions until they die and are made into wine (yes, wine: apparently 55lbs of tiger bone (ie one tiger skeleton) is worth £225,000 when crushed up and steeped in fermented rice juice which is sold for up to £185 a bottle).

Chinese medicine.....  

Then there are sun bears, who lie listlessly around in foul conditions or wade in water the colour you get when you mix all the colours in your paint palette, waiting for a visitor to tease them with an apple on a fishing line (lines kindly provided by the zoo-keepers). I say tease, though perhaps it's fun for the bears? There's nothing else for them to do, as the trees are all encased in concrete corsets...  I don't know why these animals are here, though it may have something to do with the fact that sun bear bile and gall bladders are highly sought after in Chinese medicine.....

Oh, and the third animal here is a type of deer, which lie around sadly in foul conditions, their doe eyes betraying the fact that they have read what's on the menu for the tigers....

Anyway, that diversion aside, we are soon on our way back to Haikou, where, believe it or not, the sun is shining.....

And, after three days of washing walls, ceilings, floors and windows (following the ghastly humidity the preceding week), the view  (of the building next door) from the seventeenth floor isn't too bad..... So, to celebrate, we head down town to the old heart of Haikou, which is perhaps the kind of China I was expecting.....

With its temples, complete with incense and offerings:

Their dragons:

Their role as places of learning:

And their shady role as social centres:

Outside, on Zhongshan Road, under European style colonial facades, European style colonial types are remembered in bronze, under the watchful eye of the youth of today.....

And age shades itself under a Ronaldinho hat while selling the ancient art of calligraphy....

Courtyard houses here open off the street, the portico offering shade and the shutters keeping the cool air inside,

While a bicycle rests by heavy armchairs in the open lounge,

And chickens enjoy the security of their roost in the yard.

The streets are busy with the transports of merchandise,

The business of card schools,

The amusement of generations:

And the administrations of public employees, who seem invariably to be female (I guess the men are busy playing cards?)

It is Spring Festival time, and, with the sunshine, there is a holiday atmosphere, so much more relaxed than our first week here in the dreary clouds of the Year of the Ram. 

Our trip is nearly at an end, but first we must travel back to Sanya. So, along with 10.5 million other people in China on our penultimate day, we queue and board, and take the bullet train.  

At the same time, on the same day, five hundred thousand people pass through Beijing's railway stations - the Spring Festival accounts for the largest mass migration of people on the planet, and you can almost feel the island of Hainan tipping south as holidaymakers head for the beaches of the South China Sea.....

Incidentally, our journey south was enlivened by a very useful public service video, which showed in great detail how the toilets on our train are maintained in case of malfunction.....  It quite took my mind off the passing scenery.

It is warm in Tianya, when we return to the Menthe Garden Hostel. We don't need the extra blankets.  It is very pleasant to stroll along the sands at sunset,

Admiring the happy families at play,

And settling for our final meal, crabs, and prawns, skewers of barbecued lamb, grilled vegetables, oysters.....

It's busy now, the whole world is relaxing, 

and night falls comfortably on the feasting crowds.....

We have a last wander, pacing the streets like caged tigers.  And then a last glass, or two:

And then say goodnight to China, the lights and the signs, the tiger purring in my tank.....  

It may be the Year of the Monkey, but I am a Tiger*, so my astrologer tells me, and I'm proud of it, and I feel so sorry for those magnificent creatures in the squalid conditions of  Xiongsen Bear and Tiger Mountain Village in Guilin. 

I don't really know if I will ever understand this country.....

Zài jiàn - 再見/再见 - Goodbye

*Tigers are unpredictable, always tense. and like to be in a hurry. Tiger people are difficult to resist, for they are magnetic characters and their natural air of authority confers a certain prestige on them.

They are tempestuous yet calm, warm-hearted yet fearsome, courageous in the face of danger yet yielding and soft in mysterious, unexpected places. 

Although they love adventures, and are addicted to excitement it is better not to challenge a Tiger's confidence. They likes being obeyed and not the other way around. Because Tigers are urgent people and always in a hurry to get things done right, they usually choose to operate alone. Tigers like to work, they are hard-working and dynamic. If you assign a task to a Tiger, the job will be undertaken and accomplished with enthusiasm and efficiency.....

China - 1 - First Impressions

Hainan Province

In truth I didn't know what to expect.  Since I first handled a tea pot I had been aware of China, and I had, in the past, spent some time studying its religions and reading its literature, but since the cultural revolution, and through Tiananmen Square, it had lost some of its appeal.

But now that Hannah, one of our daughters, was living in Hainan Province at the extreme south of the country, it was time to take the plunge, and, though there may be better times to visit China, the Spring Festival and Lunar New Year meant that she had enough holiday time to accompany us on some trips, so it came to pass....

We landed at Sanya International Airport, and, with our luggage tied into the taxi's tiny boot, we made our way to Tianya, where our first nights were to be spent near the beach. Although we could see the sea from our room, other views from the fifth floor were interesting in a different way.....

The weather was not great; it had been the coldest in Hong Kong for sixty years when we passed through, and now, instead of being tropical (it sits at 18 degrees north), we experienced weather not dissimilar to English winter, chilly and grey. Sanya, sometimes in the past called Tianya Haijiao (The End of the Earth), had been used as a place of exile, and somehow that resonated with me as I struggled with jet lag and a head cold. 

My birthday came and went.  I was older, and I woke up wishing I was younger, at home with my mum.... Outside was a strange world where people seem to speak as if they are angry, spitting out characters made of bone and making strange guttural sounds while their mouths exaggerate pain.  I am foreign; I don't understand a word.  The street is mud, rats erupt from a discarded coconut shell and supper is served on, or eaten with, sticks.  

We move on, passing through Sanya railway station, an enormous new construction built to deal not only with the local population of three quarters of a million (I had imagined a small town) but also with the hordes of northern Chinese who visit as if it were a modern Brighton or Blackpool.....

So, via a 200kph bullet train ride, we reach Haikou, where the railway station dwarfs that of Sanya, and the roads are six lanes, choked with traffic. Here Hannah lives on the seventeenth floor of a slightly dilapidated block of some 70 or more apartments, with only one working lift. The view from her terrace is striking,

But it is also awesome:  I had not realised that Haikou, a place I had never heard of before Hannah moved there, was so huge.  It has a population of over two million in the urban area, and its administrative area covers nearly nine hundred square miles.  The name means Sea Mouth (hence Seaport) and the old town has its attractions, but it has grown up, literally, at an extraordinary rate in the last thirty years, and is still expanding.

Although the weather is damp and drizzly, and the apartment is actually in a cloud, which condenses on the concrete walls and tiled floors, we explore and begin to appreciate how colourful and vibrant Chinese life can be.

The graphic signs may seem garish at first, but are a reminder of the civilisation and culture that unify and underly this country.

And everywhere there is movement: cars, scooters, bikes, pedestrians,

And everywhere there is technology: mobile phones absolutely everywhere,

And in preparation for the Spring Festival, flowers, particularly red ones, are being planted out, 

Though these men photographing kingfishers in a park, need shelter from the drizzle,

And it is not really fine for the beach,

And the high rise blocks disappear into the murky clouds that hang over the city.

So we take a trip about an hour south, to Boao, famous for its Forum for Asia, which is modelled on the World Economic Forum, held annually in Davos, and which is committed to promoting regional economic integration and bringing Asian countries closer to their development goals....Which means that there are luxury hotels, a golf course, and lots of development....

But it is attractive, and along the shore, under coconut palms, there are old wooden junks, some used by bars, and others just gently decaying,

While stylish restaurants make the most of the beach as a backdrop.

There is also a colourful temple, right on the sands,

And signs of a more traditional way of life,

And of a more peaceful pace,

And touches of local colour.

This is more, perhaps, what I had expected, and it is fun to browse in the open shops,

And to eat in the local way, with fresh seafood, pineapple, and light Chinese beer.

And I begin, perhaps, to understand a little, especially when, sitting at a pavement table late at night, with a small bottle of Baijiu, we get talking to Mr Kuet Ee Yoon, whose father was born here, but left in 1948, because of the difficulties caused by the last stages of the Chinese Civil War, when Hainan was heavily bombarded by Communist forces to rid it of residual Kuomintang fighters. Consequently Kuet was brought up in Singapore, but returns frequently to see his uncle who is a photographer here.

In the morning we take a three wheeler a few miles out into the jungle to see a remarkable remnant of those days, the Cai Mansion, also as known as the First Mansion of Hainan Oversees Chinese Town. The mansion was built in 1934 by Cai Jiasen, a successful businessman, who was born in Boao in 1886 and went to Indonesia when he was 15 years old, where he made a fortune in rubber.  Unfortunately the family had to abandon the palatial buildings only a few years later, due to the Japanese invasion of the island.  Subsequently it became a refuge for guerilla fighters, and now stands rather forlornly awaiting developments around it which will, no doubt, strip it of some of its melancholy....

We return to Haikou, surviving a hair-raising blow-out of one of our taxi's tyres on the way, and spend a few more days preparing for the next stage of our trip....  

Reflecting on what we had expected, and on our first impressions of what we have experienced, and reading Yu Hua, Stories of the Hidden China.  

Although it has been quite a culture shock, we are now really looking forward to seeing something else in this fascinating world, including the spectacular scenery of Guanxi Province.....