Nanjing

Nanjing is the ancient capital of China and is only 1.5 hours away from Wuhu. I had been meaning to go there for a while, mainly because the city boasts a number of historically interesting places and beauty spots, but also (I am not ashamed to admit) because we were told that western foods and wine are available in abundance. By western, I do not mean KFC but food that I eat at home, such as bread that isn't sweet or a chicken dish served without the bird's feet.

Last week, we both had two of the same days off, so Joe and I took a mini trip there. On the Wednesday morning we went to Kindergarten as usual (my lessons were on animals that day so, naturally, I sang a song about a elephant with a very long nose - hours of fun). Early that afternoon, we boarded the bus, allowing plenty of time to get to the station, unlike the mad rush of the last mini-trip I took. It felt a little bit like the start of the summer holidays for me because I hadn't been out of Wuhu since early October.

After our experience of Hang Zhou, when we were pretty disorganised, Joe and I had decided on a few places to go before we left and had even equipped ourselves with both Chinese- and English-language maps. Of course, we were not so naïve as to expect that a bit of forward-planning is enough to avoid all tourist-related problems in this country. Indeed, just finding the way out of the bus station proved to be a fairly difficult process.

Nevertheless, we remained confident that we could get ourselves to the museum of Nanjing - a must-see, according to Tony. The museum was opened to commemorate the atrocities of The Rape of Nanjing, the English name for when the Japanese attacked Nanjing in the 1940s. Our confidence was not unfounded because we did indeed find our way there. Unfortunately, the whole thing was closed for refurbishment, so the first stop on ‘Joe and Sarah's Day Of Fun' was a flop, and we were unable to learn more about why the Japanese are, to this day, very unwelcome in the city.

Undeterred, we made our way to the Fuzi Miao, the downtown area, which is pictured above. We got there at about 5pm so just had a look around and browsed the wares of the tourist shops. There is an ancient canal that runs through the city and, if we had had time, I would have like to take a pedalo in order to explore. However, it was getting dark and I think we both had dinner on our minds, so we soon set off to find the restaurant we'd chosen from the Lonely Planet Guide, a place run by English-speaking Germans.

The city was far bigger than we had I envisaged so finding it, like everything on the trip, it wasn't exactly easy. After walking for an hour and nearly giving up, we finally reached it. Unlike in Wuhu, the 'natives' didn't stare at us because they are used to the presence of foreigners. It was odd and quite refreshing to walk down the street and forget that you are an ethnic minority. However, it was just plain bizarre to walk into a restaurant when the only Chinese people are waiters, and even they served us like English waiters (i.e they gave us more than 10 seconds to decide what we wanted to eat).

I was so happy when I sipped on, or rather glugged down, my first glass of pinot grigio in months. The second glass helped my bruscetta and mussels go down nicely (a very welcome change from Chinese fare, as much as I like the food here). I could have gone on drinking there, but we decided to go onto a bar. The evening was really lovely, mainly because wine and chatting with a friend in one of my favourite pastimes [Below is a photo that sums up my utter delight, after rediscovering drinkable wine].


Once again, though, finding our way to the hotel was a challenge. The taxi driver dropped us off really nearby but sent us walking in the wrong direction, as did every other person we met. Consequently, we walked around for about half an a hour in the rain before we realised it should have taken us only 3 minutes. Maybe it was just the wine, but we found it really rather amusing.

The next day, we planned to go up Purple Mountain, after picking up our return train tickets from the station. I was genuinely delighted to be understood by the ticket lady first time, when I asked for the tickets - I must be improving if Nanjing-dialect-speaking Chinese ladies understand me! Somehow, we managed to work out how the subway works in Nanjing and also used the public buses to navigate around the city. The subway is very new and sparkly clean - it puts London to shame, it really does. By travelling this way, we saved a load of money - wherever you want to go in one direction cost 1 kuai - less than 10p!!! - and also, we felt a little less like clueless tourists.

To cut a long story short, our plans and hopes were once again dashed because the cable car (more like a ski-lift chair), that takes people up to the very top of the mountain, was not working when we eventually arrived at the summit. We saw two westerners who had literally just got off it, both complaining that they'd nearly been both scared and frozen to death, so our bad luck with the timing of our visit was just rubbed in further. I was genuinely gutted not to be able to go up, so we decided to walk up as far as we could on the path.

As it turned out, it was a great walk. The air was fresh and there were relatively few people around - something I particularly treasure in China. The photo above is of me, the intrepid explorer that I am with my backpack and handbag, fearlessly resting my foot on a stone amongst the bamboo trees. Below, Joe is standing at the very top of the observation tower from which we could see the city far below. I think he was trying to work out the direction of the wind (?!). It was quite interesting going up the tower because there were ancient Chinese instruments adorned with fiercesome dragons, once used to measure astrological stuff (I've forgotten the exact word). However, the sky was really cloudy that day, so we didn't miss out on a great view from the cable-car, just th chance to be very high and very cold.

Being tourists in a foreign city, it took us quite a long time to do everything, so we were unable to fit anything more in before we had head back to the train station for our 5pm train. I had never taken the train here before but, because it was only 8 kuai for the trip back, we thought it was worth trying. Despite being surrounded by Chinese people eating seeds and spitting the outsides on the carriage floor, the journey was fine - travelling by train is definitely something I would do again here because it is so crazily cheap.

It was good to get out of Wuhu and I had a lot of fun, but I want to return to Nanjing at some point, in order to do more of the things we couldn't the first time. There is an ancient wall that still runs around parts of the city (we saw parts of it) and a beautiful lake, both of which I want to see properly. Plus there are meant to be some bars that play good English-language music and have a real atmosphere (unlike anything in Wuhu). I have agreed with one of my teachers, Eva, to go together at some point - she is lovely and it might be a more successful trip if I go with a native speaker.

Chinese Wedding - 08/11/06

Apparently, Chinese couples are eager to kick-off their wedding day as early as possible because it is considered lucky to do so. Another widely held belief is that the 8th day of 11th month is a particularly auspicious day on which to get married – something relating to wealth, I think. Accordingly, on Wednesday 8 November, Joe and I met Tony (our Chinese friend from Aston) at 6am outside our apartment block. From there we headed straight to Tony’s house in order to be ready for a lucky 6.30am start.

Poor Tony was visibly excited/nervous/emotional about his sister’s wedding day– he couldn’t sit still. After his Mum offered us Chinese tea, cakes and sweets, for which we had no appetite, Tony explained his duties for the morning (more about which will follow); this helped us understand his state of anxiousness.

Not long afterwards, Wang Yi Kuan, appeared from having her make-up done, dressed in white and looking lovely. After we were quickly introduced and gave to her our wedding gift (cash in a red envelope is what is expected here – no messing around with presents chosen from a John Lewis wish-list – the bride went into her room and hid behind the bed.

If Tony hadn't explained to me the point of this stage of the wedding, I would probably have been mildly perturbed by this behaviour. Thankfully, however, I did understand that a Chinese Bride is traditionally supposed to play ‘hard-to-get’ (the extreme version) until her fiancée has paid enough money for her. Once her family are satisfied that they have got a good deal for their daughter, they will allow her to leave for her new marital home, thus passing into the bosom of a new family.

We knew that this bartering was about to begin as soon as we heard the first round of fireworks that were set off in the courtyard outside. It was ever so exciting. Everyone (by which I mean those in Tony’s flat but also, I am sure, every living soul in the local area) was rushing back and forth to the windows to witness the deafening display of firecrackers. Soon after, there was heavy banging on the front door and the groom’s posse (which included square-jawed men who chain smoked, wore white gloves and were hired to oversee the occasion) started posting red envelopes of money under the door.

I found the whole thing fantastic fun to watch. Frankly, I didn’t know what to expect next (I could barely think over the noise of the fireworks) so I just stood with Joe on the sidelines and stared, agog, as Wang Yi Kuan’s friends, sister and mother all militantly shouted their replies to the banging, insisting that more money was necessary.

It was only when fireworks were let off under the front door that the groom, Zhang Shou Hua, was able to barge his way in. My photography doesn’t do justice to the drama. Eventually, the bride and groom were allowed to be reunited and exchange rings, which was really lovely. However, this was only after Tony’s heroic running jump and dive to get to his sister’s bedroom door before the Zhang Shou Hua could enter. There was lots of joking and laughing, and then the hired photographer began taking photos, thus marking the end of the first part of the wedding day.

Joe and I had found it all absolutely fascinating, but I did felt a little out of place in this relatively small (if extremely loud and attention-seeking) party, especially as we had met the bride only minutes earlier. For this reason I was completely shocked when Tony’s sister invited us to be in her early-morning wedding photos, while even her close friends were not. Paul later explained that we ought to appreciate that having foreigners at a wedding in Wuhu is on a par with having a minor celebrity at your wedding in England; you’d want them in your photos!

After smiling sheepishly for the cameras, Joe and I rushed down to the courtyard in order to get a good spot to watch as Tony carried his sister down the 4 or 5 flights of stairs to the wedding car. This was the duty he had practiced over and over in the previous few days, and about which he had got so anxious (he is a very slight guy and all eyes in the local community were on him, so it’s understandable!). At this point, more fireworks were set off in the courtyard, making it appear as though Tony was evacuating his family from a minefield.

It was about 7.30 by the time we left for the newly-weds’ new home. According to tradition, the brides’ parents (in this case, just her Mum) have to stay behind, which I found quite harsh because the poor lady was in tears due to the emotion of the day. A big convoy of black cars made their way across town and we spent the hour before we had to leave for work (teaching in Kindergarten) at the new house. Joe and I couldn’t help but laugh when we noticed the hired cameraman standing up, his body sticking up out of the first wedding car to film the cars that followed – now that’s dedication!!

While we chatted and had more photos at the new house, Joe and I were made to eat boiled eggs (to bring us good fortune, naturally). The new house contained brand-new everything, and had studio-staged photographic portraits of the couple hanging all over the place (a normal practice here, it seems ).

One experience I had at this point in the wedding, which I shall never forget, was sitting on the loo next to a live-and-clucking chicken that was being stored in a coal sack for the next day. I had been told about this before I entered the room so it could have been worse, but I still found myself making girly squeals as I left the room as promptly as possible. The reason behind the presence of this bagged bird was that it was due to be given as a thank-you gift to the Bride’s mother, for bringing her up and caring for her until this point. How touching!

We rejoined the wedding later on in the day, in time for the evening meal. Tao, Stewart and Jamie also came to the restuarant. That was good, not least because we could all be stared at together. Compared with the morning, the meal was rather non-eventful. I had hideous red wine, chuckled as the boys stuck a cigarette into the greasy beak of our table's roast duck, and avoided eating the dish of pig's tongue. It was very cool to be part of the celebration and we has a laugh. I think I will certainly remember the day for its morning, although the post-meal games that were played back at the new house (once again the foreigners were invited to this intimate affair) were also pretty memorable:

Although the whole thing was far more sober than you’d expect in England, the bride and groom were instructed to play numerous cheeky but fairly innocent games in front of their guests in their bedroom. One game included the couple having to take toothpicks out of a cupcake using only their mouths, whilst it hanged between them from a string; because they were taking turns to do this, it meant the rather spiky cake kept swinging into their faces. Rather funny to watch!
Overall, the day was a mix of the bizarre and the delightful, and I am so pleased I was invited to be part of it.

Confusion, censorship...China!

Joe and I have had our google blogs blocked in China - we can't even view what's already there! I was actually quite put out by this petty (and futile) act of censorship, but both Joe and I refuse to be silenced indefinitely. Consquently, we've both started up new blogs on a site that is deemed acceptable to the authorities here.

In the last few weeks I have done a number of things that I would have liked to blog, including attending a Chinese Wedding and visiting the ancient (once the capital) city of China, Nanjing. I did write a couple of blog entires, including one about the wedding, in Word documents. Therefore, after my Chinese lesson, which starts in a few mins, i'll just cut and paste and also upload some photos... S x

PS. My profile photograph is supposed to be me looking pensive with chopsticks, as I consider what to blog next - y'see?! Below is a photograph of me and Tao sitting in a restaurant that serves delicious, spicy fish in a big metal bowl. You can see our bowl in the photo that's hanging behing us. Indeed, the first time we went to this place, they took photos of us for advertising purposes - 'look, foreigners eat here!'. They gave us our first meal for free, so we promised to return and pay the next time. When we did go back, we found that they had blown up two of the photographs and hung them on the walls of the tiny little place. I had to have a photo of that - only in Wuhu would this happen!

Catch-up post

I have been unable to blog for a while due to google's ‘maintenance problems'. Unfortunately, I've forgotten many of the things that I would have blogged so I'll just write a couple of things that now come to mind.

Last Wednesday night I made my first visit to the tea house near Wuhu's Buddhist temple. I felt ever so civilised as I sipped my Jasmine tea (actually really nice, despite my reservations about what I see as 'healthy' teas). Whilst Englishmen go to the pub to catch up with mates, the Chinese chat over tea, surrounded by beautifully carved wooden furniture and water features. I was delighted to embrace this thriving tradition with Joe, however much I also would have liked a glass of pinot grigio.

On Saturday I played badminton with Merim, Kaori and Fang Fang (who is taught Japanese by Kaori). Considering I usually avoid all net/ball/bat-related sports, I was mildly amused to find myself in a taxi on the way to the public courts of Wuhu's Olympic Stadium. However, I will happily admit that I enjoyed it a lot, despite my quite dire ability with a shuttlecock. Team sports are such good outlets for competitive urges, so, once over the initial confidence shortage, I really got into it.

The next evening, we were invited for homemade dumplings at Fang Fang's house. I have found that the people of Wuhu will invite you to eat in their home even if they barely know you, and this was not an exception – I had only met this sweet (if unusually energetic) girl two days before. Nevertheless, her mother had made an enormous amount of food and she'd even bought red wine, which I doubt she drinks very often herself.

Really, apart from other such relatively inconsequential events, things have been‘as normal’ here. We didn't celebrate Halloween, both because the Chinese don't and because we boycotted the only Halloween party we knew of (the boys really don't like the Canadian guy who organised it and I wasn't prepared to dress up on my own).

I am spending a large proportion of my time learning Chinese. By that, I refer to time spent in lessons and private study, but also times such as the two hours sat in MacDonald's yesterday, being taught the lyrics of a Chinese popsong by Tao. Actually, I think learning songs is quite a good way to do it because you pick up new words while also having a giggle – marvellous. I honestly don’t care if I sound like a crazy person – I will sing in MacDonald's every night if that's what it takes to learn this bloody language. Besides, people can’t possibly stare anymore if they tried, so singing makes no difference.

This morning after teaching at Kindergarten, as Joe and I were walking along the road with our Chinese colleagues, Eva and Lucy, we saw a big black dog in a cage. Having wandered around a market full of caged animals, during my quest for pot plants about a month ago, I was not in any way surprised by this. However, I was genuinely upset when Eva informed us that this particular dog, caged in unsuspecting ignorance, was almost certainly headed for the bowls of the restaurant it sat outside. Indeed, along that road there are many restaurants-come-street stalls, where food (vegetables and noodles, as well as the live offerings) is displayed and cooked outside and diners tuck into their egg-fried rice and dog meat inside. Yum.

My appetite returned not long after, thankfully, and this evening Joe and Ahmir showed Paul, Merim and me a crazy food stall market, which is off a main road I have walked along many times. Once you've stepped through the near-circular brick wall entrance you are met with a dirty looking narrow street, full of people walking through or queuing up by stalls that cook dishes over open flames or in brick ovens. I had chicken (served on a stick, like most meat in this country) and a huge vegetable pancake wrap thing, which was prepared in front of us. It tasted good, so it was easy to forget that the sticky batter mix was tipped on to the heat from a red bucket with which I wouldn’t want to clean my floors. I am definitely going back to that market because my whole meal cost me 4 kuai – not much more that 30p!!!
I will try and post some more photos on soon; maybe including one of the food market and my meat lollipops x