It has been more than a week since I returned to Toronto. When I am asked “How was China?”, I am having difficulty crafting a response that is neither gushing, as in "amazing, exciting, challenging, life changing" or triggers a long hyper paced outpouring of stories and anecdotes that have my poor listeners drinking from the proverbial verbal fire hose. Somewhere in there, is a middle ground but I have not found it yet. For China was all of those things and more for me. On my outbound flight, I read an interesting article, suitably in the airline magazine, that explored the transforming power of travel. I tore it out, not really understanding at the time, how much it would eventually resonate with me, but sensing that there was something in the content that might be important on my journey.
“Getting lost to yourself might be the best way to find out who you are” was the closing statement. Yes, emphatically yes, and now I understand how and why. If you have not had the experience of losing yourself in a city or country, where every simple action becomes a challenge, then it is difficult to convey the sense of consciousness that must accompany every single waking minute. It is tiring at first, and generally frustrating, but once you abandon yourself to the flow of this kind of travel, then it becomes the essence of the experience itself. Every sense is heightened, every adaptive ability is stretched, every strength and weakness exaggerated. You discover that you are braver than you ever thought, not just because you are doing something that others think is brave and they would not attempt themselves. (I got that incredulous reaction from western women around my age almost universally in China). Nonetheless, I also recognized when I was not up to everything that came my way, and where a more adventurous soul might have leaped in for the sake of the memory, the bragging rights, the “we will never pass this way again, so go for it”, I demurred. And I learned to forgive myself for that. For not feeling the need to prove myself brave. To myself or to anyone else.
Was that perhaps the greatest gift of my trip to China? It was certainly one of them. But the greatest prize of all was the discovery of how much I enjoyed writing. And that I have changed my self definition to writer. (Sounds so much more productive than “retired”). When asked what I did for a living in a charming cafe in Shanghai, I said, “I am a writer”. Out loud, to a perfect stranger, just to try it on for size. Now of course, her reaction, was “oh, what have you written?. I cast around for a suitable answer, coming up with only a lame, nothing you would know. Now, that is the downside of verbalizing one’s dreams: you create an expectation in the recipient of something concrete when all you have to offer are some thoughts in a battered notebook and a couple of possible titles. And of course, that opening question is closely followed by: “Are you writing a book? What’s it about?” Mmmh, again, questions to which my answers are vague and mumbled. But, it does force the issue. I recall an oft quoted story of a published writer making polite cocktail chat to a business man who announced somewhat pompously, that when he retired, he too was going to become a writer. To which the novelist replied, yes, and I’m going to become a brain surgeon. The point of course, is that writing says easy and does hard. But like travel, writing puts me in a place where I am truly, completely in the moment. In the zone, as the athletes say. There is no better place for me to be.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Yesterday, I climbed The Great Wall
And tomorrow, I fly home. I would like to write more about China, my impressions and my adventures. But some thoughts are best to wait until I am no longer here. And that, of course, says something about China in itself.
I leave you for the moment with pictures from my trip down the Li River, from the city of Guilin to the town of Yangshou. Whenever I quizzed a fellow traveller about their journeys in China, this destination always came up as one not to be missed. The voyage down the river was obscured by rain and fog, but that did not dampen the enthusiasm of the Chinese men at my table (actually, as a single, I was put at their table and they were the hosts of our long on board lunch) They had ordered the regional specialties for the group: river sails in garlic, deep fried whole fresh water shrimp, beer fish, and steamed flat fish. They tried hard to get me to drink beer with them, but I had been previously cautioned that once you accept one alcoholic drink in China, you will be in deep for the rest of the evening or journey in this case. No stopping or you will be considered a very rude foreigner and not appreciative of your hosts' generosity. But if you firmly but nicely insist that you do not indulge at the outset, there will be no bad feelings. So I turned my glass over, drank my bottle of water, and joked with them (as best you can with no common language) and let them push the snails and whole shrimp on me. They were a little dismayed that the crunchy shrimp with heads on did not deter me from eating them with gusto: making foreign women squirm is good sport apparently!
Our destination of Yangshou is a pretty charming town on this beautiful river, with lots of back backers in dreds and sandals on the circuit from Vietnam and Thailand. It's that sort of place. It also offers the best rock climbing in China, so there are a lot of robust, adventure type travellers too. Over breakfast, I met a retired couple from Arizona who had been here for 6 months teaching English: they advised me that if I wished to stay a month or a year, just walk down the street, take a left and I would be assured of a job for as long as I wanted. I admit, I thought about it. My breakfast was enjoyed at a little cafe owned by a former hot dog vendor from Ottawa and his bride whom he met here on his first day in Yangshou. They live above the cafe with their new baby, where she makes jewellery and they ponder whether to move to Canada. Like most of China, Yangshou is developing, building, growing: it is clinging hard to its image as a laid back haven for city weary tourists and travellers. But I could see the "luxury" condo developments underway at every turn. I think that I came to Yangshou at the best, and last time.
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
Sex in this City
My hosts and I were unable to give the cab driver sufficiently detailed directions to our intended dining spot, (not an uncommon event when street names change each block and street numbers are not sequential) After 30 frustrating minutes of getting nowhere fast, we obeyed the dictates of our rumbling stomachs and got out and walked south in search of a late evening dinner. Normally, a dinner for 3 at a quite elegant Sichuan or Yunnan restaurant would never top $70, even with drinks. But it was getting on 9:30, and with no such haven in sight, we threw frugality to the wind and walked into Jasmine, a high concept and high end Asian fusion restaurant/club.
Here we had entered the rarefied land of plush expense accounts and equally padded bodies camouflaged by well cut Italian suits. It was the sort of place where the only reasonably priced bottles of wine were the 350ml kind. (It took sending the waiter back twice to figure that out!)
As we settled into our large club chairs, I leaned back, enjoying the stylish ambiance, I happened to catch the conversation between the 2 businessmen seated close behind me. (The chairs were so large that it was easier to hear them than converse with my dining companions. Really.) One was Chinese, and the other an attractive American with lots of salt and pepper hair. As the conversation drifted from congratulating each other on the conclusion of a successful deal and an equally pleasant dinner, the Chinese gentleman asked the other if he had a girlfriend. Frankly, as a woman in about the same demographic cohort as the American, my ears perked up. The American said no, that he was in fact, looking for a new girl, that he was not looking for anything long term, and that he had learned that from his previous experience. All of this is verbatim by the way. Then the conversation shifted to real estate in California, how much his wife loved growing grapes in their $11.1 million property, and how his gorgeous and brilliant 25 year old daughter would love the challenge of China but his son was too conventional and would not take the risk.
Now, I am not going to comment on the morality of the man's choice to have a long term girl friend here in China: he knows what California divorce laws are like and perhaps his wife was fully aware of his arrangements. No one really understands anyone else's marriage. It's not the first time that I had heard reference to a "Chinese wife". But I did wonder what had happened to this person , now known only as "Previous Experience".
Was she a still young woman of 30, who after 5 years of entertaining Mr. California, had decided it was time to move on, get her own life, husband and possibly child? Or was it a case of a lady who had spend years catering to him while he was in town for his monthly meetings, planning the special outings, making sure the cupboard had his preferred foods and drink, and the fridge was stocked with cold water and ice, the way Westerners like it. I hoped that he had siphoned off enough funds from his personal or corporate accounts to leave her well provided for, and that she still had her apartment that he had arranged for their trysts: it is unlikely that a Westerner would have been willing to live in a Chinese style flat. I hoped that she was not still not waiting patiently for the special ring tone, the nudge on Messenger, or the knock on the door. But I was unable to suppress the vision of a small elegant woman of a certain age, sitting straight backed , dressed in his favourite silk kimono, hoping it was not, but knowing, that like those beautiful Beijing roses in June, they were finished.
There would be no "unintended consequences" from this liaison: with the Chinese one child policy, abortion is easily available at public hospitals for about $65 per procedure. However, in response to some international pressure about the high rate of abortions, the government outlawed promotional advertising some years ago. Still, flyers and newspaper ads offering the procedure from less savory and less safe outlets are commonplace. Indeed, the easy access to abortion was intended for married women to comply with stringent laws. However, with the increasing rate of sexual activity of unmarried women, especially in urban areas, young single women have become major users of the service. While sexual activity is on the upswing, sexual education has lagged seriously behind. Slogans are everywhere: useful information is not. Getting pregnant while unmarried would be a major loss of face for her family and so her support system would disappear: few unmarried women would want to carry a baby to full term.
Small packs of condoms are available in bright pink, girly packaging and displayed optimistically at the beauty counter check out, along with the lip gloss and the breath mints. But a young male acquaintance of mine told me that his friends will not use them So that other "unintended consequence" of unprotected sexual activity, STD's are also on the rise.
Clubs in cities like Beijing offer frenetic "hook up" opportunities, for Westerners and Chinese natives. Although the nightly outcomes might be the same, intentions between the 2 groups differ. I was told that Chinese men seek out Western women for a night of unencumbered fun because the beautiful Chinese girls in the same clubs might charge them for the privilege. On the other side, young Chinese women often see Western men as their ticket out of China, and would do pretty much anything to make that happen. Western men are not oblivious to the opportunity that circumstance represents and have been known to see the city as a sexual "all you can eat buffet", if you pardon the metaphor. Getting the girl home to your apartment is as easy as flashing a passport: getting her to leave once ensconced is a bit more tricky. Parties that should have been over in the light of day have a strange way of continuing until the next afternoon or evening. But then, how do you get her to leave when she won't put her pants on?
Here we had entered the rarefied land of plush expense accounts and equally padded bodies camouflaged by well cut Italian suits. It was the sort of place where the only reasonably priced bottles of wine were the 350ml kind. (It took sending the waiter back twice to figure that out!)
As we settled into our large club chairs, I leaned back, enjoying the stylish ambiance, I happened to catch the conversation between the 2 businessmen seated close behind me. (The chairs were so large that it was easier to hear them than converse with my dining companions. Really.) One was Chinese, and the other an attractive American with lots of salt and pepper hair. As the conversation drifted from congratulating each other on the conclusion of a successful deal and an equally pleasant dinner, the Chinese gentleman asked the other if he had a girlfriend. Frankly, as a woman in about the same demographic cohort as the American, my ears perked up. The American said no, that he was in fact, looking for a new girl, that he was not looking for anything long term, and that he had learned that from his previous experience. All of this is verbatim by the way. Then the conversation shifted to real estate in California, how much his wife loved growing grapes in their $11.1 million property, and how his gorgeous and brilliant 25 year old daughter would love the challenge of China but his son was too conventional and would not take the risk.
Now, I am not going to comment on the morality of the man's choice to have a long term girl friend here in China: he knows what California divorce laws are like and perhaps his wife was fully aware of his arrangements. No one really understands anyone else's marriage. It's not the first time that I had heard reference to a "Chinese wife". But I did wonder what had happened to this person , now known only as "Previous Experience".
Was she a still young woman of 30, who after 5 years of entertaining Mr. California, had decided it was time to move on, get her own life, husband and possibly child? Or was it a case of a lady who had spend years catering to him while he was in town for his monthly meetings, planning the special outings, making sure the cupboard had his preferred foods and drink, and the fridge was stocked with cold water and ice, the way Westerners like it. I hoped that he had siphoned off enough funds from his personal or corporate accounts to leave her well provided for, and that she still had her apartment that he had arranged for their trysts: it is unlikely that a Westerner would have been willing to live in a Chinese style flat. I hoped that she was not still not waiting patiently for the special ring tone, the nudge on Messenger, or the knock on the door. But I was unable to suppress the vision of a small elegant woman of a certain age, sitting straight backed , dressed in his favourite silk kimono, hoping it was not, but knowing, that like those beautiful Beijing roses in June, they were finished.
There would be no "unintended consequences" from this liaison: with the Chinese one child policy, abortion is easily available at public hospitals for about $65 per procedure. However, in response to some international pressure about the high rate of abortions, the government outlawed promotional advertising some years ago. Still, flyers and newspaper ads offering the procedure from less savory and less safe outlets are commonplace. Indeed, the easy access to abortion was intended for married women to comply with stringent laws. However, with the increasing rate of sexual activity of unmarried women, especially in urban areas, young single women have become major users of the service. While sexual activity is on the upswing, sexual education has lagged seriously behind. Slogans are everywhere: useful information is not. Getting pregnant while unmarried would be a major loss of face for her family and so her support system would disappear: few unmarried women would want to carry a baby to full term.
Small packs of condoms are available in bright pink, girly packaging and displayed optimistically at the beauty counter check out, along with the lip gloss and the breath mints. But a young male acquaintance of mine told me that his friends will not use them So that other "unintended consequence" of unprotected sexual activity, STD's are also on the rise.
Clubs in cities like Beijing offer frenetic "hook up" opportunities, for Westerners and Chinese natives. Although the nightly outcomes might be the same, intentions between the 2 groups differ. I was told that Chinese men seek out Western women for a night of unencumbered fun because the beautiful Chinese girls in the same clubs might charge them for the privilege. On the other side, young Chinese women often see Western men as their ticket out of China, and would do pretty much anything to make that happen. Western men are not oblivious to the opportunity that circumstance represents and have been known to see the city as a sexual "all you can eat buffet", if you pardon the metaphor. Getting the girl home to your apartment is as easy as flashing a passport: getting her to leave once ensconced is a bit more tricky. Parties that should have been over in the light of day have a strange way of continuing until the next afternoon or evening. But then, how do you get her to leave when she won't put her pants on?
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Tension in Macau
After an intense 3 days of shopping and touring in Hong Kong, I boarded the busy ferry to the island of Macau. Macau was a Portuguese trading outpost from the 1500's, and the stepping off point for the Jesuit missionaries working in Asia. Hence the unique blend of Asian and Portuguese food, culture and architecture. It is now a "Special Administrative Region" like Hong Kong, but there is a special tension here that Hong Kong does not suffer from. Hong Kong, whatever the pace of development and growth, will always be confident in its core identity as a global center of commerce that pays unapologetic homage every day to the power of trade and the glory of affluence. I have never seen so much money so grandly and proudly displayed: New York seems modest in comparison.
As the only place in China with legalized gambling, Macau has been under aggressive pressure from real estate and gambling consortiums. There is now some dissonance being expressed with the pace and intensity of development: at the time of writing, the local government apparently wanted to put a moratorium on new gambling licenses and land reclamation. ("Land reclamation" is simply a positive spin on "sea destruction ") As you can imagine, pro and con editorials and accusations are flying fast and furious in the local morning papers. As a first time visitor, I can only say, please hold the line.
Don't get me wrong: despite not being interested in slots or table games, I have visited Las Vegas with family and friends and on business on a regular basis for over 15 years. The attraction for me now is a 5 star luxury long weekend with the girls and some of the best dining in North America. Seriously. take a look as this sample of fine restaurants from Frommers; " multi-Michelin-starred chef Joël Robuchon opened two restaurants in the MGM Grand; deservedly famed chef Julian Serrano reigns at Bellagio's Picasso; Thomas Keller, the brains behind Napa Valley's French Laundry -- considered by many to be the best restaurant in the United States -- has a branch of his Bouchon bistro; legendary chef Alain Ducasse is behind Mix at THEhotel; ...2006 James Beard Awards featured several Vegas nominees, while Robuchon's L'Atelier won Best New Restaurant in 2007." Of course, you have to be prepared to spend $30 on a starter and upwards of $75 on a main, but hey, that's what's winnings are for. Or at least, that's what I tell my mom when she scores at the slot machine! Otherwise, it's off to the "all you can eat before 5pm" $12 buffet.
So while Vegas is styled as a place for adult fun, however you define it, the gambling face of Macau is not fun at all. Not because the branches of the Wynn or the Venetian are any grand or luxurious than they are in Vegas; it's because gambling in China is not meant to be fun. At least not that I could see. As I walked through the ill kept, dingy underground passage between the original Casino Lisboa, over to new Wynn , I saw only sad, dejected faces. In the casino, there was no laughter, no shouts of excitement, not even a lot of that annoying ding ding ding from the slots. There are not as many slot machines in Macau which certainly keeps the din to a minimum: I imagine that table games are considered to be more "lucky" or perhaps requiring more skill than simply pushing a button. And no alcohol is consumed while gambling: this is a serious business.
I watched one baccarat table where a young woman appeared to have a streak of good luck, judging from the crowd pressed around her, urging her on. As she was dealt her cards, the women standing behind her started to blow air from their mouths, and waving one hand towards the dealer, as if to wish away bad luck from the player. (Or perhaps bad luck on the house) The Chinese are very superstitious, and never more so than when gambling. And betting is done aggressively: one possible reason for all those disappointed faces I saw earlier was that they bet the whole bankroll on one play and lost. That's normal. It's not about extending out the play for its own sake, seeing how long your money can last, as my friends and I do in Vegas. It's about the chance, the win, the roll, putting everything on the line. And when it's done, it's over.
So why do I think that enough is likely enough. Well, when I travelled over the bridge to the smaller island of Taipa, I passed the massive Venetian complex and 3 equally massive holes in the ground which will shortly become the Hard Rock Cafe, the Sheraton, and a Hyatt. Getting past these works in progress required traversing 4 very large roundabouts. Not a sidewalk to be seen. So what I envision will happen will be a transformation very much like Vegas: huge retail, hotel and casino complexes, connected by above and underground people movers, dominating the skyline and extending ever further out into the harbour until Macau and Taipa are one land mass. The format and intention are very much in line with Vegas: keep in the punters in the complex, away from the outdoors, and always in front of a table or a store. But how much more of it does one or two small islands really need?
And what is at risk? Well you can already feel the impact of the new gambling complexes: I was staying in a charming Portuguese style pousada and I could not get a cab at a casino hotel to take me there at night. Too much easier money to be made shuffling the players from casino to casino. The architecture of Macau is lovely and best appreciated while strolling or sitting at a local coffee shop (did I mention that the egg tarts here are wonderful, as is most of the Portuguese food?)But if the tourists are simply bused from ferry to casino, and then shuffled from one gaming table to another, never to see the light of day, who will support these restaurants, museums and cultural attractions? Macua may be at risk of being a city that simply exists to support the casinos, instead of the other way around.
My advice is to see it soon before it disappears. Have dinner at the well known local culinary school, where you can have an excellent 4 course meal accompanied by very good Portuguese wine for about $50. Stay in a pousada, and admire the lotus flowers growing in ponds with stone fountains and orchids displayed against traditional blue and white tiles. Wander the narrow cobblestone streets and enjoy this special Asian urban experience while you can.
Monday, May 26, 2008
Living the High Life in Hong Kong
A travel guide book that I consulted when planning this excursion said that everyone should spend at least one night of their lives at the legendary Peninsula Hotel in Kong Kong.
Well, I thought that if one night is good, 3 must be better! Indeed, it was the best hotel stay of my life, and I have rested my head in some pretty plush spots. Like the Plaza and the Helmsley Palace in New York in the 90's when the Queen of Mean still reigned. To describe a high end hotel, resort or even a condo development, as "luxurious", is almost meaningless. What was once considered luxurious is now so common place as to be the norm. At a certain price per night, we expect marble bathrooms, fine linens and plasma TVs. Inspired by decorating magazines, lifestyle television shows, and broader travel, many of us have brought that high end "hotel style" into our homes, most certainly into the bedrooms.
So what makes a high end hotel special? And what defines luxury in a town where "over the top" is a way of life? For me, luxury at the Peninsula is best defined by their attention to detail. Details like 2 robes and 2 sets of slippers: one light set for lounging, one terry set for just out of the bath. 2 linen garment bags: one for dry cleaning, one for plain laundry. Nothing plain about the laundry delivery however: my humble work out top was returned in a separate cloth lined basket, wrapped in tissue and closed with a gold foil seal. Needless to say, the room was huge, the white marble clad bathroom came complete with TV and mood lighting, and the LED display on the room door gave you the exterior temperature, (as did the phone by the bed) and allowed you to set your room status to privacy please, or send the valet, so you need not open the door. No flimsy paper door knob hangers here! Indeed, the papers (international and local) were delivered via a separate box just inside your door. No fear of being locked out in your robe (or worse)! The control panel by the king bed means that you never need leave the comfort of your down duvet to open and close the wall of drapes, adjust the lighting, turn on or off the TV and radio. I could go on and on, but you get the gist. Yes, I could learn to live like a "tie, tie".
What is a tie tie you ask? (I am likely spelling it wrong, but the pronunciation is as you see) It is the moniker for the sort of wealthy woman who is so accustomed to being catered to, every minute of every day, that she brings her ama to her club to hold the towel for her as she steps daintily from the shower. She could be from anywhere, even the mainland: apparently no one nationality has a monopoly on the love of excess. Ostentatious jewellery and lots of it, is one of the hallmarks of these ladies. It also serves a practical purpose beyond simply broadcasting your husband's wealth and proclaiming your status: it can be used to fund your defense when you hit said husband over the head with a heavy Chinese antique statue, have your 2 amas and driver help you roll him up in the Persian carpet and put him in the locker for 5 days until he starts to smell. A true story, and one that has inspired the expatriate wives in Hong Kong to threaten their husbands with being rolled in a carpet should they too become a little annoying! Meant with affection of course. I assume.
What is an ama? It is a housekeeper, cook, cleaner, nanny that lives with you, usually in a cupboard the size of the average North American bathroom. Maybe smaller. In this cupboard is the toilet, shower, and room for a bedroll. Good thing these Filipino and Sri Lankan women are tiny. ( I jest) My expat friend in Hong Kong, aka "Fabulous", and the source of these stories, is the sort of good person who rejected most of the condos offered her family because the living quarters for the ama's were no better than prison cells. It is expected that you will have at least one ama, and likely a driver. Sunday is the day off for the ama's in Hong Kong, and they crowd the central parks of Hong Kong, having lunch after listening to the broad casted Mass, sitting on blankets or newspapers spread out under the trees. If you have ever been to a cocktail party with a hundred women you have some idea of the din caused by a thousand women in animated discussion.
Without their cook, the ex pat families head to their favourite local restaurant or private club. I had dinner in 2 very high end restaurants in Hong Kong and was struck by the lack of locals (unlike Shanghai). After my dinner at a private club with my friend it all become clear: why would you spend money dining out when you can come to your posh club and have a wonderful meal. away from the busy noisy city, overlooking the sparkling lights of the harbour. She certainly appreciates how extraordinary the expat experience is, and works hard to ensure that her kids know it too: life back in Canada is going to be an adjustment, and not just because of the weather!
If you don't want to sit on the terrace, the helpful folks at the club will pack up a hamper for you to take on a private boat to a nearby island. Hong Kong is in the South China Sea, and although most visitors only see the high rises and conjestion, it is surrounded by lush tropical islands with beaches and few people. In fact, that is where I am off to now. On a public ferry mind you.
Well, I thought that if one night is good, 3 must be better! Indeed, it was the best hotel stay of my life, and I have rested my head in some pretty plush spots. Like the Plaza and the Helmsley Palace in New York in the 90's when the Queen of Mean still reigned. To describe a high end hotel, resort or even a condo development, as "luxurious", is almost meaningless. What was once considered luxurious is now so common place as to be the norm. At a certain price per night, we expect marble bathrooms, fine linens and plasma TVs. Inspired by decorating magazines, lifestyle television shows, and broader travel, many of us have brought that high end "hotel style" into our homes, most certainly into the bedrooms.
So what makes a high end hotel special? And what defines luxury in a town where "over the top" is a way of life? For me, luxury at the Peninsula is best defined by their attention to detail. Details like 2 robes and 2 sets of slippers: one light set for lounging, one terry set for just out of the bath. 2 linen garment bags: one for dry cleaning, one for plain laundry. Nothing plain about the laundry delivery however: my humble work out top was returned in a separate cloth lined basket, wrapped in tissue and closed with a gold foil seal. Needless to say, the room was huge, the white marble clad bathroom came complete with TV and mood lighting, and the LED display on the room door gave you the exterior temperature, (as did the phone by the bed) and allowed you to set your room status to privacy please, or send the valet, so you need not open the door. No flimsy paper door knob hangers here! Indeed, the papers (international and local) were delivered via a separate box just inside your door. No fear of being locked out in your robe (or worse)! The control panel by the king bed means that you never need leave the comfort of your down duvet to open and close the wall of drapes, adjust the lighting, turn on or off the TV and radio. I could go on and on, but you get the gist. Yes, I could learn to live like a "tie, tie".
What is a tie tie you ask? (I am likely spelling it wrong, but the pronunciation is as you see) It is the moniker for the sort of wealthy woman who is so accustomed to being catered to, every minute of every day, that she brings her ama to her club to hold the towel for her as she steps daintily from the shower. She could be from anywhere, even the mainland: apparently no one nationality has a monopoly on the love of excess. Ostentatious jewellery and lots of it, is one of the hallmarks of these ladies. It also serves a practical purpose beyond simply broadcasting your husband's wealth and proclaiming your status: it can be used to fund your defense when you hit said husband over the head with a heavy Chinese antique statue, have your 2 amas and driver help you roll him up in the Persian carpet and put him in the locker for 5 days until he starts to smell. A true story, and one that has inspired the expatriate wives in Hong Kong to threaten their husbands with being rolled in a carpet should they too become a little annoying! Meant with affection of course. I assume.
What is an ama? It is a housekeeper, cook, cleaner, nanny that lives with you, usually in a cupboard the size of the average North American bathroom. Maybe smaller. In this cupboard is the toilet, shower, and room for a bedroll. Good thing these Filipino and Sri Lankan women are tiny. ( I jest) My expat friend in Hong Kong, aka "Fabulous", and the source of these stories, is the sort of good person who rejected most of the condos offered her family because the living quarters for the ama's were no better than prison cells. It is expected that you will have at least one ama, and likely a driver. Sunday is the day off for the ama's in Hong Kong, and they crowd the central parks of Hong Kong, having lunch after listening to the broad casted Mass, sitting on blankets or newspapers spread out under the trees. If you have ever been to a cocktail party with a hundred women you have some idea of the din caused by a thousand women in animated discussion.
Without their cook, the ex pat families head to their favourite local restaurant or private club. I had dinner in 2 very high end restaurants in Hong Kong and was struck by the lack of locals (unlike Shanghai). After my dinner at a private club with my friend it all become clear: why would you spend money dining out when you can come to your posh club and have a wonderful meal. away from the busy noisy city, overlooking the sparkling lights of the harbour. She certainly appreciates how extraordinary the expat experience is, and works hard to ensure that her kids know it too: life back in Canada is going to be an adjustment, and not just because of the weather!
If you don't want to sit on the terrace, the helpful folks at the club will pack up a hamper for you to take on a private boat to a nearby island. Hong Kong is in the South China Sea, and although most visitors only see the high rises and conjestion, it is surrounded by lush tropical islands with beaches and few people. In fact, that is where I am off to now. On a public ferry mind you.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Luxe Dining in Shanghai
I had 2 very different dining experiences in the last 2 nights. If I had only gone to one restaurant, I would be convinced that Shanghai is the gastronomical epicentre of the East. If my experience had been limited to the other, I would have left thinking that this city proves yet again that money can buy many things, but good taste is not one of them.
First the disappointment: the M in M on the Bund must stand for mediocre. A cheap shot at an expensive restaurant but well deserved. I had my usual order: 3 appetizers with accompanying wine, all suggested by the maitre de. I find that an appetizer and a main do not offer enough of a stage for the chef to display his or her talents, and often, it is too much food as well. 3 small plates served in courses works well for me, in volume and in variety. So the view of the Bund at night, with the river boats and high rises of the Pudong all lit up in flashing colour is spectacular. And if madam is cold on the terrace, a wrap will be provided. All around me, groups of business colleagues celebrated with champagne and cigars, and large parties of family and friends toasted their special occasions. A festive place warmly lit and elegantly presented. Shame about the food.
I was prepared not to have my culinary socks blown off: it was presented as Shanghai’s first gourmet restaurant (since 2000), not her most innovative now, but a definite must do for visitors. I was expecting something along the lines of Scaramouche or Canoe in Toronto: lovely views of the sparkling city below, comfortable surroundings, and solidly executed cuisine with luxury touches in ingredients and presentation. A place to take out of town business colleagues or go for a special anniversary dinner with family. Well, the lobster and shrimp bisque was the color of brown lentils, tasted mostly of celery and smelled vaguely of fish. If a crustacean came anywhere near this bowl, it was merely waved over the surface to satisfy the description on the menu. The small bird in the roasted pigeon salad was appropriately crisp, richly brown and juicy. Needed salt however. Or some flavour. The accompanying dollop of coriander puree and undressed leaves were green. Nothing more can be said. The final course consisted of 4 small lamb dumplings with a yogurt sauce and a bit of chili: everything was adequate alone but did not hang together as a coherent dish. And the dumpling dough was tough and thick: a sad comparison to the light and delicate pork dumpling wrappers I had that day at a dim sum chain at a quarter of the cost.
The place was packed and so they were in a hurry to turn my table: the courses came swiftly and I was seated and gone within an hour. With so successful a franchise, I suspect that the chef does not see a need to stretch himself or his loyal clientele. In fact, it does not feel like there is a chef at the helm at all, more a corporation. Indeed I understand that they are looking at opening up a location in Beijing. They should save themselves and diners in Beijing the bother and the boredom.
In contrast was my meal on Monday at T8 in the trendy Xintiandi area in the French Concession. I found the place down a dimly lit cobblestone alley, glowing with the candles of other restaurants and cafes. Decor was all Asian inspired antiques, warm wood, stone and comfortable upholstered chairs and low couches. Anyone would look good in such an elegant atmosphere, but who needs to when the food is this stunning. I was first sat at a quiet table for 2 by the window, and when I said it was a little too isolated, and asked if I could sit at the bar, I was quickly moved to the “chef’s counter”. You know, that highly coveted seat right at the open kitchen where you can watch the chef and brigade go through their paces and see everyone else’s dishes come together. A perfect perch for a food voyeur.
First the disappointment: the M in M on the Bund must stand for mediocre. A cheap shot at an expensive restaurant but well deserved. I had my usual order: 3 appetizers with accompanying wine, all suggested by the maitre de. I find that an appetizer and a main do not offer enough of a stage for the chef to display his or her talents, and often, it is too much food as well. 3 small plates served in courses works well for me, in volume and in variety. So the view of the Bund at night, with the river boats and high rises of the Pudong all lit up in flashing colour is spectacular. And if madam is cold on the terrace, a wrap will be provided. All around me, groups of business colleagues celebrated with champagne and cigars, and large parties of family and friends toasted their special occasions. A festive place warmly lit and elegantly presented. Shame about the food.
I was prepared not to have my culinary socks blown off: it was presented as Shanghai’s first gourmet restaurant (since 2000), not her most innovative now, but a definite must do for visitors. I was expecting something along the lines of Scaramouche or Canoe in Toronto: lovely views of the sparkling city below, comfortable surroundings, and solidly executed cuisine with luxury touches in ingredients and presentation. A place to take out of town business colleagues or go for a special anniversary dinner with family. Well, the lobster and shrimp bisque was the color of brown lentils, tasted mostly of celery and smelled vaguely of fish. If a crustacean came anywhere near this bowl, it was merely waved over the surface to satisfy the description on the menu. The small bird in the roasted pigeon salad was appropriately crisp, richly brown and juicy. Needed salt however. Or some flavour. The accompanying dollop of coriander puree and undressed leaves were green. Nothing more can be said. The final course consisted of 4 small lamb dumplings with a yogurt sauce and a bit of chili: everything was adequate alone but did not hang together as a coherent dish. And the dumpling dough was tough and thick: a sad comparison to the light and delicate pork dumpling wrappers I had that day at a dim sum chain at a quarter of the cost.
The place was packed and so they were in a hurry to turn my table: the courses came swiftly and I was seated and gone within an hour. With so successful a franchise, I suspect that the chef does not see a need to stretch himself or his loyal clientele. In fact, it does not feel like there is a chef at the helm at all, more a corporation. Indeed I understand that they are looking at opening up a location in Beijing. They should save themselves and diners in Beijing the bother and the boredom.
In contrast was my meal on Monday at T8 in the trendy Xintiandi area in the French Concession. I found the place down a dimly lit cobblestone alley, glowing with the candles of other restaurants and cafes. Decor was all Asian inspired antiques, warm wood, stone and comfortable upholstered chairs and low couches. Anyone would look good in such an elegant atmosphere, but who needs to when the food is this stunning. I was first sat at a quiet table for 2 by the window, and when I said it was a little too isolated, and asked if I could sit at the bar, I was quickly moved to the “chef’s counter”. You know, that highly coveted seat right at the open kitchen where you can watch the chef and brigade go through their paces and see everyone else’s dishes come together. A perfect perch for a food voyeur.
The young man you see on the right is the Chef: born in Hungary, Jeno Friedl trained in Austria, Germany, and spent 3 years in Marbella, absorbing the latest in Spanish gastronomy (so says the website) In softly accented English, he was the one who advised me on my meal selection and took the order from me. After each course, he came and asked me how I was enjoying my meal. Oh happy day.
The first course was marinated scallops: on an 18” long narrow white plate, the thinly sliced perfectly tender scallops were nestled in a row of crème fraiche studded with chives. Over the top he ran a wide translucent ribbon of shimmering ginger jelly. The dish was strewn with yellow and purple nasturtium petals, perfect ½ inch cubes of hot pink watermelon and pale orange melon, and sprinkles of red rice that had been popped in hot oil until crunchy. (I know, because I asked him what the intriguing little red bits were) Not only was it the most exquisite presentation I have ever seen on a plate, it tasted literally dissolved on the tongue as you inhaled the sea and spring all together.
But wait, it gets better. The next course was a beef Carpaccio with arugula. Sounds like a tune we all know the words to. Not in the hands of this man, who is literally a painter on a plate. On a large, 18” long, and 10” wide shallow platter (I mention the plates, because every dish had its own unique presentation and special serving dish ) he placed the tender deep red beef in a large rectangle, over which there was a lattice work pattern of a creamy aioli, topped with bright green baby arugula. A few petals of grilled portabella mushrooms added a color contrast and toasted macadamia nuts were sprinkled over the piece. The whole effect was like looking at a red brick wall with a delicate green vine, trained on a lattice, climbing up it: a small mound of deep crimson beet sorbet in the middle looked just like a rose. And it tasted sublime.
The first course was marinated scallops: on an 18” long narrow white plate, the thinly sliced perfectly tender scallops were nestled in a row of crème fraiche studded with chives. Over the top he ran a wide translucent ribbon of shimmering ginger jelly. The dish was strewn with yellow and purple nasturtium petals, perfect ½ inch cubes of hot pink watermelon and pale orange melon, and sprinkles of red rice that had been popped in hot oil until crunchy. (I know, because I asked him what the intriguing little red bits were) Not only was it the most exquisite presentation I have ever seen on a plate, it tasted literally dissolved on the tongue as you inhaled the sea and spring all together.
But wait, it gets better. The next course was a beef Carpaccio with arugula. Sounds like a tune we all know the words to. Not in the hands of this man, who is literally a painter on a plate. On a large, 18” long, and 10” wide shallow platter (I mention the plates, because every dish had its own unique presentation and special serving dish ) he placed the tender deep red beef in a large rectangle, over which there was a lattice work pattern of a creamy aioli, topped with bright green baby arugula. A few petals of grilled portabella mushrooms added a color contrast and toasted macadamia nuts were sprinkled over the piece. The whole effect was like looking at a red brick wall with a delicate green vine, trained on a lattice, climbing up it: a small mound of deep crimson beet sorbet in the middle looked just like a rose. And it tasted sublime.
My last course was an arugula risotto, perfectly cooked to a al dente texture: the vegetal flavour of the rich green rice was complemented in taste and texture by the earthiness of poached quail eggs and truffled ice cream. Oh baby! The way that ice cream melted into the hot rice was a sensual experience on the tongue that I could have enjoyed for a long long time. Ineed, I was never rushed, and it was the best, most attentive service I can remember having in a restaurant anywhere.
Both meals came in at a little over $100 each, without tax or tip. I confess to having an extra drink and dessert on the terrace at M on the Bund just to prolong my stay! So the meal at T8 was more expensive: it was also more substantive in volume and in the use of luxury ingredients. And of course, in the quality of food, the inventiveness of the menus and the care in presentation, the two establishments are literally at opposite ends of the high end dining spectrum. I know where the smart money is going.
Postscript: I read some reviews online in preparation for writing this review, and discovered to my regret, that T8 is one of those few restaurants in China that does encourage tipping. And I thought it was just my charming Canadian accent that inspired such attention!
Both meals came in at a little over $100 each, without tax or tip. I confess to having an extra drink and dessert on the terrace at M on the Bund just to prolong my stay! So the meal at T8 was more expensive: it was also more substantive in volume and in the use of luxury ingredients. And of course, in the quality of food, the inventiveness of the menus and the care in presentation, the two establishments are literally at opposite ends of the high end dining spectrum. I know where the smart money is going.
Postscript: I read some reviews online in preparation for writing this review, and discovered to my regret, that T8 is one of those few restaurants in China that does encourage tipping. And I thought it was just my charming Canadian accent that inspired such attention!
Monday, May 12, 2008
Roses Blooming with Abandon
Not too much prose today: I am in the midst of trying to capture the essence of a delicious dinner I enjoyed last night. It was at a "fushion" restaurant which was recently judged by Conde Naste to be one of the top 50 in the world. Tonight, I am dining at one of the top 10 in China. It promises to be an interesting comparison of the cuisine of 2 of China's best Western style chefs, overlayed with the relative experience of the solitary diner (that would be me) in their establishments. A hardship I can hardly wait to experience!
As I promised some posts ago, there will be roses, and they are blooming in all their fragrant, beautous glory right now. In China, the rose is the symbol of youth; there is no one flower that symbolizes love exclusively as the rose does in the West. The peony is much revered in China: as a symbol of spring, it is also a metaphor for female beauty and reproduction. Peonies denote wealth and abundance, and in bloom can represent love and affection. According to one Chinese site on symbolism that I scanned, the leaves of the gingko tree also represent love. Novel idea for a Valentines' day gift: nothing says "I love you" like a gingko tree planted in the back yard!
Interestingly, I discovered that our own Maple Leaf is the emblem of lovers in China and Japan. Mmmh, could be the basis for a new tourism marketing campaign for Canada. But we must be wary of overpromising. Indeed, I wonder if travellers from those 2 nations are dissappointed now when they travel to our country and find a wealth of leaves but a dearth of lovers!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Lost In Shanghai
Not literally lost, as in cannot find one's way, although that has happened during this trip to China regularly, and I have just given into its inevitability. No, the lost I am referring to comes from a very thoughtful article that I read, naturally enough, on the plane coming here. The author spoke about getting lost in a city, that is, losing oneself in the rhythm, the textures, the sound, smells, and being in a state of consciousness where you don't react to all of the stimuli; you absorb it, revel in it, feel it, (as opposed to process), roll it around on your tongue as it were. I think that I can do that in Shanghai.
Why here and not in Beijing? After only 2 rainy days here I could sense the difference between the 2 cities. Beijing, as the capital, has a whiff of what I would call, "eau de Ottawa". Well tended expressways for limousines to glide down, large imposing public buildings, all kinds of military presence around the embassies and government offices. Very orderly. Very controlled. A young Chinese man I just met described Beijing as a lady, dressed modestly, with many layers, who chooses to reveal herself carefully, slowly. Shanghai, he said, was a brazen young women who is all show, provocative dress and is blatantly for sale. Quite poetic for an investment broker. And just based on my short acquaintence with the 2 cities, quite accurate.
While Beijing has been cleaning itself up strategically for its big reveal in August (as some ancient hutongs became sanitized historic districts for walking tours, others are torn down so there are lovely parklike views from the limo windows) Shanghai is just on a tear, period. I could not remove the scaffolds, demolished buildings or cranes from my photos, so I just stoped trying. In fact, I have tried to capture the contrast between the new and the "about to be hit by a wrecking ball." The same young man mentioned that his firm might take him to Vegas for a XMAS party: he will find some striking similarities. And not just the outlandish buildings, for they say that in Shanghai that you can get anything built if you pitch it to the right person with the right pockets. Ills such as prostitution and corruption have taken hold like they never left. I was walking down a dirty, neon lit narrow street of clubs and restaurants one rainy evening, thinking that if not for the modern cars, I could be in the disreputable and dangerous Shanghai of the 1930's. Then I saw the bored young women, squeezed into too small black dresses, sitting on a dirty couch waiting for "foot massage"customers. Nothing's changed on this street.
It is confident, daring, painfully image conscious, hardworking and resolutely commercial. Some pundits say that Shanghai is the future of China. For good and ill.
Why here and not in Beijing? After only 2 rainy days here I could sense the difference between the 2 cities. Beijing, as the capital, has a whiff of what I would call, "eau de Ottawa". Well tended expressways for limousines to glide down, large imposing public buildings, all kinds of military presence around the embassies and government offices. Very orderly. Very controlled. A young Chinese man I just met described Beijing as a lady, dressed modestly, with many layers, who chooses to reveal herself carefully, slowly. Shanghai, he said, was a brazen young women who is all show, provocative dress and is blatantly for sale. Quite poetic for an investment broker. And just based on my short acquaintence with the 2 cities, quite accurate.
While Beijing has been cleaning itself up strategically for its big reveal in August (as some ancient hutongs became sanitized historic districts for walking tours, others are torn down so there are lovely parklike views from the limo windows) Shanghai is just on a tear, period. I could not remove the scaffolds, demolished buildings or cranes from my photos, so I just stoped trying. In fact, I have tried to capture the contrast between the new and the "about to be hit by a wrecking ball." The same young man mentioned that his firm might take him to Vegas for a XMAS party: he will find some striking similarities. And not just the outlandish buildings, for they say that in Shanghai that you can get anything built if you pitch it to the right person with the right pockets. Ills such as prostitution and corruption have taken hold like they never left. I was walking down a dirty, neon lit narrow street of clubs and restaurants one rainy evening, thinking that if not for the modern cars, I could be in the disreputable and dangerous Shanghai of the 1930's. Then I saw the bored young women, squeezed into too small black dresses, sitting on a dirty couch waiting for "foot massage"customers. Nothing's changed on this street.
It is confident, daring, painfully image conscious, hardworking and resolutely commercial. Some pundits say that Shanghai is the future of China. For good and ill.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Table for One?
Solo dining is an oxymoron in the Chinese culture. Food at mealtimes is meant to be shared and so a person dining alone is an oddity. The nearest nod to an accommodation that I have observed after a month in China is the large bowl of noodles, vegetables and sometimes meat which can be had almost everywhere. However, a bowl of steaming hot broth, while wonderful and warming during the cool, crisp days of early spring, does not seem so appetizing now that the weather has turned warm. And I like the variety offered by the multiple courses of a typical Chinese meal. But it does seem excessive and frankly wasteful since I can rarely finish even one of the plates offered.
The meal you see above was my attempt at a "modest" dinner. I did not realize that the "duck" meant a variation on Peking duck, with the traditional treatments of separate meat, crispy skin, the pancakes for wrapping, and couscous? Yes, the latter was unexpected. Since I had also ordered rice as the starch. A warning for diners in China: unlike in North America, serving staff will not tell you if you have ordered too many courses, how large the dishes are in volume or if your meals come with a starch accompaniment or component so ordering an additional noodle or rice dish is not necessary. Just tuckin and enjoy.
However, they will emphatically make their feelings known if you order too little! I happened on a mid sized respectable looking restaurant in the town which was home to a series of Buddhist grottoes I had toured that day. It had real cloth table clothes and napkins, as real cloth as polyester can be, and that is generally my hurdle for a dinner spot. (My standards have fallen somewhat since going on the Silk Road! Or perhaps just adjusted to my circumstances. ) Tired and dusty, I was looking for a little sustenance before heading back to my equally tired hotel . So I ordered from the illustrated menu, what looked like a half of a roast chicken or duck and some cold buckwheat noodles as an appetizer course. Well, she threw the order pad down in a huff, went off on a rant to the back office, and the next thing I knew there were 5 Chinese people, including the imposing lady owner herself, standing around my table, all trying to tell me the error of my ways.
First, they were pointing at the chili peppers in the noodles, making blowing noises, indicating heat I assumed. I nodded that yes, I understood heat, and that was OK. They made those universally understood, tsk tsk sounds, since I clearly did not know what folly I was about to commit. They then turned to a page with other meat dishes pointing emphatically at what looked like pork in a sauce of some kind. OK, I can go along with the recommendation of the house, and tried to turn the page back to the roast chicken, to indicate that I would have pork instead. No, no, no, more finger wagging, and turning the pages of the menu to the soup page. Dinner is not dinner without soup apparently. I was given a choice of two, and then I naturally picked the wrong one, and was corrected with more emphatic pointing to the other more robust choice. Well, this was 5 on 1 in a foreign country. I conceded to their greater wisdom, closed the menu to indicate agreement, which resulted in satisfied nods all round. Sino-Canadian negotiations round one successfully concluded.
The buckwheat noodles, while served in a chili oil vinaigrette, did not come with the chili peppers promised in the photo. I could see how this was going to go. It was fine regardless. The roast chicken was an entire bird, with crisp mahogany skin and globules of golden fat I tried hard to avoid. Sweet and sour pork, naturally, was that extra meat dish I needed to have. It must be the fall back dish of choice whenever a Caucasian happens by. It was more sweet than sour, being heavy on the corn syrup which was literally laced across the generous pile of pork ribs like spun sugar. And then a full sized tureen of tomato soup. The Chinese grow allot of luscious, rich red, densely fleshed tomatoes which are appearing in the markets now: none of those came near this soup during its creation. It was reminiscent of Heinz but then again, that might have just been the amount of salt and sugar I tasted, both of which are used with a heavy hand in China.
So while I was picking my way through my 4 dishes, owner lady hawk eyed one table over, an earnest young man came and sat down opposite me, and asked in not so bad English, if I liked his city. Well, this posed a wee bit of a conundrum, because frankly, his city, like many polluted post industrialized cities in China was the civic equivalent of a junk yard dog. Dirty, ill kept, smelly, noisy are few of the adjectives that readily came to mind. I chewed slowly and thoughtfully, as I crafted a diplomatic response. His hometown did have 3 redeeming qualities. The Longman grottoes of Buddhist art that I (and 2000 Chinese tourists) had seen today. It holds a famous annual Peony Festival, and large hanging banners with photos of that gorgeous flower in all variations were still hanging from street lamps. And as an effort in civic beautification, there are roses planted among the public thruways: showy floribundas were heavy with pink, red, yellow or orange blossoms in the median of every 4 lane road way and pink carpet roses filled the spaces defining the on/off ramps. So I was able to say in complete honesty that I thought that all of the the flowers of his town made a very beautiful impression, and I liked them very much. Sino-Canadian relations remained positive at the conclusion of discussions. And I think that the staff enjoyed the soup too.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
A Week on the Road
The Silk Road that is. And it was an experience. Too much to relate in one post, and too many photos to share. But I shall try to encapsulate the most powerful and lasting impressions. When I saw the world's largest golden sand dune for the first time, I felt the same way as I do when standing on the ocean's edge, watching the waves relentlessly pound the shore: an overwhelming sense of the immutable and immeasurable power of nature. I thought of the courage it must have taken for traders to brave that sea of sand; economic necessity then as now, a powerful motivator. The lure of the unknown and adventure as compelling.
I saw many sacred relics, still majestic despite faded paint and amputated heads and limbs. Put into historical context, many of these beautiful carvings were commissioned by the wealthy as proof of devotion (and a guarantee of a trip to paradise) during the period after the fall of Rome and before the reign of Charlemagne. The medieval period in the West historically referred to as "the Dark Ages", that are now acknowledged as "Dark" largely because we lack historical record. But you know, you can do only so many Buddha's: after awhile, it becomes like seeing cathedrals in Europe. The first one or two take your breath away: after that, you can let yourself become hostage to "checklist tourism". You know, Cathedral at Chartres, check, Terracotta Warriors, check, and so goes the passion out of your travel.
I also saw the power of China's industrial economy, both the production and the consumption sides and I can tell you right now, emphatically, that this country is not going to slow down, not even for one millisecond. Not for the foreseeable future and by that I mean 20 to 30 years. I was confirmed in this conviction as I travelled on a second class bus for 3 hours one morning, across the highway that runs alongside the mountain range which separates Northern China from Southern.
(As a side note, only when the ledge at the back of the bus had squeezed in 8 people and a baby, and every other seat was taken would a Chinese person sit beside me. I will write later about the peculiarities of travelling solo as a Caucasian in China. Definitely, being treated as an oddity to be either stared at at length or treated as an untouchable is one of them.)
From my grimy bus window, I saw coal fired plants going at full tilt, land scarred by the large open pits of what looked like mining operations, and certainly gravel extractions, up tight against ugly grey cement block apartment buildings, and diaphanous clouds hanging among countless hydro towers that went on into the horizon in every direction. (In contrast, planted among all of this industrial development were carefully tended small plots of vegetables for home consumption or possibly for sale at the local market). There were few cars on this highway since regular Chinese cannot afford cars, gas, or the tolls. But there were so many large transport trucks, hauling shiny new tractors, metal fittings, mine tailings, and all manner of industrial goods, that you felt like you were somehow in the middle of a huge military operation.
I cannot stress this enough. Everything you have read or heard about China's appetite for resources is true. And likely underestimated. I had a vision of a massive swirling vortex of consumption, devouring every single natural resource in China. Is it possible to conceive that it might consume itself into oblivion? Rome did and the United States is considered to be on the same path, according to Homer-Dixon's book The Upside of Down. It's a sobering thought. Perhaps China will start to take the high ground on issues of conservation and measured consumption once it feels itself secure as an influential world power, no longer just an "emerging" market. Right now, I understand that Chinese auto manufacturers are pioneering cars that are on the leading edge of energy conservation . Perhaps for the global market. Right now, in their own country, it feels like the wild wild West. Anyone out there seen Deadwood?
I saw many sacred relics, still majestic despite faded paint and amputated heads and limbs. Put into historical context, many of these beautiful carvings were commissioned by the wealthy as proof of devotion (and a guarantee of a trip to paradise) during the period after the fall of Rome and before the reign of Charlemagne. The medieval period in the West historically referred to as "the Dark Ages", that are now acknowledged as "Dark" largely because we lack historical record. But you know, you can do only so many Buddha's: after awhile, it becomes like seeing cathedrals in Europe. The first one or two take your breath away: after that, you can let yourself become hostage to "checklist tourism". You know, Cathedral at Chartres, check, Terracotta Warriors, check, and so goes the passion out of your travel.
I also saw the power of China's industrial economy, both the production and the consumption sides and I can tell you right now, emphatically, that this country is not going to slow down, not even for one millisecond. Not for the foreseeable future and by that I mean 20 to 30 years. I was confirmed in this conviction as I travelled on a second class bus for 3 hours one morning, across the highway that runs alongside the mountain range which separates Northern China from Southern.
(As a side note, only when the ledge at the back of the bus had squeezed in 8 people and a baby, and every other seat was taken would a Chinese person sit beside me. I will write later about the peculiarities of travelling solo as a Caucasian in China. Definitely, being treated as an oddity to be either stared at at length or treated as an untouchable is one of them.)
From my grimy bus window, I saw coal fired plants going at full tilt, land scarred by the large open pits of what looked like mining operations, and certainly gravel extractions, up tight against ugly grey cement block apartment buildings, and diaphanous clouds hanging among countless hydro towers that went on into the horizon in every direction. (In contrast, planted among all of this industrial development were carefully tended small plots of vegetables for home consumption or possibly for sale at the local market). There were few cars on this highway since regular Chinese cannot afford cars, gas, or the tolls. But there were so many large transport trucks, hauling shiny new tractors, metal fittings, mine tailings, and all manner of industrial goods, that you felt like you were somehow in the middle of a huge military operation.
I cannot stress this enough. Everything you have read or heard about China's appetite for resources is true. And likely underestimated. I had a vision of a massive swirling vortex of consumption, devouring every single natural resource in China. Is it possible to conceive that it might consume itself into oblivion? Rome did and the United States is considered to be on the same path, according to Homer-Dixon's book The Upside of Down. It's a sobering thought. Perhaps China will start to take the high ground on issues of conservation and measured consumption once it feels itself secure as an influential world power, no longer just an "emerging" market. Right now, I understand that Chinese auto manufacturers are pioneering cars that are on the leading edge of energy conservation . Perhaps for the global market. Right now, in their own country, it feels like the wild wild West. Anyone out there seen Deadwood?
I am off to Shanghai next: so called the Paris of the East, Whore of the Orient. Should be fun!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Xi'an, The End and The Begining of the Silk Road
For several dynasties, Xi'an was the capital city of China, and the focus of immense wealth and political power. There are more imperial burial mounds in the surrounding area than they have time to excavate properly. The site of primary interest and global fascination is of course, the Terracotta Warriors which I go to tour tomorrow. (So excited!) Xi'an is also unique in that it is the only ancient Chinese city with its surrounding fortified wall and moat completely preserved. It defines a vibrant, busy city core, with several historical sites of interest (Drum and Bell Tower, Forest of Thousand Stiles or Writing Tablets) as well as one of the largest Mosques in China. The Muslim Quarter has an active street market which goes well into the evening, with vendors in white caps selling all sorts of preserved fruits, roasted nuts and street food. Indeed, it is reported to have the best street food in Xi'an, but given my nasty experience in Dunhuang, I decided to err on the side of caution and find a proper restaurant with their own bathroom in case I needed it urgently!(yes, that kind of nasty experience)
I wish knew the English name of this place, but all I can tell you is that the last restaurant on the right before you exit the Quarter Market to the north serves some of the best food I have had in China. By the look of the full tables and empty plates that surrounded me, my opinion is shared by many. I decided to stick to appetizers, hoping that would lead to smaller portions. Well, it would have worked, if the main courses here were not portioned to feed 6 to 8. Sigh. The solitary diner is not a concept (outside of a bowl of noodle soup) that the Chinese restaurant can accommodate easily. So you either enjoy a large portion of one thing, or you leave a whole lot of your meal behind. Given that I like to try a number of dishes, I end up most often feeling full but still barely making a dent in the dishes before me. I hope the restaurant staff enjoys what I ordered! So to this evening's meal.
I ordered 2 cold and 1 hot appetizer. This balance of temperature and food choice is very important to overall digestion and health. I don't know why, but that's what the menu said! My first appetizer was black fungus salad in a chili vinaigrette. A standard in Beijing that I have come to look for on menus, this interpretation has a generous portion of the delicate frilled black fungus whose slightly sour taste and sweaky texture contrasts nicely with the crisp shards of sweet white onion. The second course, "Dan's shredded tofu with vegetables", was stunning. Thin julienned strips of celadon green celery, mahagony and amber shaded preserved tofu, fresh sweet red pepper, all tossed with a spicey chili oil, and garnished with peanuts and orange-red chunks of dried chile pepper that put me in mind of discarded lobster shells. It was a vertical Jackson Pollock on a plate. Tasty too.
And I was munching away happily when the lamb appetizer was set before me. Ok, this will take some work to describe, but worth it if makes you salivate even a little. Imagine a full rack of a very young lamb (the bones were not thicker than a chopstick so I mean young), leave the fat back on and don't French the long bones. Cleaver horizontally about 3 times and then again lengthwise so you end up with about 10 or 12 tiny little lamb rib bones. Rub generously with a fragrant Middle Eastern mixture of cumim and corriander seeds and chili pepper and toss in very hot oil until deep golden brown. The delicious result was a crisp, crunchy, spicy exterior while the meat stayed a red rich. Since all of the meat was close to the bone, the flavour and tenderness was just extraordinary. I abandoned my useless chopsticks and dug in with both hands. So much finger licking going on they brought me extra napkins. And all of this from a woman that could barely face Chinese gruel 12 hours earlier. I think I like it here. Perhaps book another day!
I wish knew the English name of this place, but all I can tell you is that the last restaurant on the right before you exit the Quarter Market to the north serves some of the best food I have had in China. By the look of the full tables and empty plates that surrounded me, my opinion is shared by many. I decided to stick to appetizers, hoping that would lead to smaller portions. Well, it would have worked, if the main courses here were not portioned to feed 6 to 8. Sigh. The solitary diner is not a concept (outside of a bowl of noodle soup) that the Chinese restaurant can accommodate easily. So you either enjoy a large portion of one thing, or you leave a whole lot of your meal behind. Given that I like to try a number of dishes, I end up most often feeling full but still barely making a dent in the dishes before me. I hope the restaurant staff enjoys what I ordered! So to this evening's meal.
I ordered 2 cold and 1 hot appetizer. This balance of temperature and food choice is very important to overall digestion and health. I don't know why, but that's what the menu said! My first appetizer was black fungus salad in a chili vinaigrette. A standard in Beijing that I have come to look for on menus, this interpretation has a generous portion of the delicate frilled black fungus whose slightly sour taste and sweaky texture contrasts nicely with the crisp shards of sweet white onion. The second course, "Dan's shredded tofu with vegetables", was stunning. Thin julienned strips of celadon green celery, mahagony and amber shaded preserved tofu, fresh sweet red pepper, all tossed with a spicey chili oil, and garnished with peanuts and orange-red chunks of dried chile pepper that put me in mind of discarded lobster shells. It was a vertical Jackson Pollock on a plate. Tasty too.
And I was munching away happily when the lamb appetizer was set before me. Ok, this will take some work to describe, but worth it if makes you salivate even a little. Imagine a full rack of a very young lamb (the bones were not thicker than a chopstick so I mean young), leave the fat back on and don't French the long bones. Cleaver horizontally about 3 times and then again lengthwise so you end up with about 10 or 12 tiny little lamb rib bones. Rub generously with a fragrant Middle Eastern mixture of cumim and corriander seeds and chili pepper and toss in very hot oil until deep golden brown. The delicious result was a crisp, crunchy, spicy exterior while the meat stayed a red rich. Since all of the meat was close to the bone, the flavour and tenderness was just extraordinary. I abandoned my useless chopsticks and dug in with both hands. So much finger licking going on they brought me extra napkins. And all of this from a woman that could barely face Chinese gruel 12 hours earlier. I think I like it here. Perhaps book another day!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
On the edge of the Desert
Desperately trying to get out of town but to no avail. My flight here was cancelled which delayed my arrival: my flight out was cancelled which delayed my departure. I guess if the planes aren't full, they just don't fly. So an extra hotel night, cancellation and re booking fees from the online booking service for the hotel in my next stop, Xian. So take a deep breath, regroup and find something interesting to do.
I already did the major reason for my visit here -the Caves of Buddhist art. They were magnificent. I have never seen a 2 storey Buddha before, or a reclining one about the size of a basketball court. The painting was exquisite, the colours of lapis blue, Chinese red and jade green still visible though faded in places. They are beautiful now; they must have been a thing of wonder when newly carved and painted, before the Muslims defaced them and the English/Germans/ French/ Americans(in about that order) made off with manuscripts, tapestries and other souvenirs.
In 1900, a hidden cache of over 10,000 manuscripts were found - most of which were sold off to explorers from the West and are now in fine museums around the world. The story is that the caretaker who discovered the sealed up library was cleaning away dust from a wall painting when he noticed that the smoke from his cigarette was wafting up, and apparently disappearing into the wall. Our guide says he walks around smoking all the time now, looking for the next big find (not entirely joking I surmised)
I also discovered the joy of foot massage last evening. They are advertised all over Beijing, but I had not indulged. Well, I am resolved to test the relative merits of foot massage in every city I visit on this trip! After a brief but vigorous neck massage, a small women with hard strong hands plays a sort of drums for an hour on your feet and calves. Remember those Japanese drummers - like that. It's surprisingly loud, and it feels amazing, especially after a long day of treking on the city streets or desert dunes. Warning: if you have had any knee surgery, she did a couple of pressure moves that would likely send you into the stratosphere in pain, so keep one eye open. She did some very interesting pressure point work around trouble spots like shin splits and ankles which would likely be beneficial for runners.
I also climbed the largest sand dune in the world, and then tobogganed down. I kid you not. If I was not at an internet bar, I would post pics of the climb up and the slide down. Well, it is not a bar; more of a warehouse with dozens of computers, and Chinese men smoking, playing computer games, and watching movies while their cell phones go off and Britney Spears asks to be hit one more time in the background. Needless to say, this will not be a long post!
I have also discovered what it is like to be Queen. Of a kind. I am staying in off season in the best hotel in this part of China. It is very large for the area, over 200 rooms. I am about one of 5 people staying here; I am the only person here for more than 1 night. So with an average staff of oh, 30 that I can see and likely another 20 that are behind the scenes, it is pretty generous staff to guest ratio!. It is also a very lovely property, decorated with light wood Ming style furniture, Persian carpets, slate floors and generous bathrooms. And the towels are plush and new - a treat in China I have learned. A uniformed driver took me out today to 2 additional sites, and walked unobstrusively behind me, opening doors and staying just within call range. When I walk around the property, folks stand when I enter or walk by, and say a polite neehow and bow slightly. The cleaning staff put a gift on my pillow and a note with good wishes for my life. And all of this for 50% off the rack rate! And the hotel food was quite good-I had 2 horrid lunches in town that made me ill even without trying the famous local dish of donkey and noodles. There is a really diverse, exhuberant outdoor market here - I will post pics later. If you are interested in coming here, I highly recommend the hotel: The Silk Road Dun Huang Hotel. There is one English speaking manager level person: her name is Wendy and she made my extended stay a treat rather than a trial.
Aside from the Caves and a few other sites, the town does not have much to commend itself to tourists. It is still a place that travellers stop into on the way to somewhere else. The surrounding red desert, apart from the golden dunes which are spectactular, resembles most closely a large flat gravel pit. No redeeming features. No features at all actually. I saw alot of military trucks on the way out of town; I suspect manouevres up here might include some shelling. Tons of pulverized material out there. So I will hopefully fly out tomorrow-Queen for 5 days might go to my head!
I already did the major reason for my visit here -the Caves of Buddhist art. They were magnificent. I have never seen a 2 storey Buddha before, or a reclining one about the size of a basketball court. The painting was exquisite, the colours of lapis blue, Chinese red and jade green still visible though faded in places. They are beautiful now; they must have been a thing of wonder when newly carved and painted, before the Muslims defaced them and the English/Germans/ French/ Americans(in about that order) made off with manuscripts, tapestries and other souvenirs.
In 1900, a hidden cache of over 10,000 manuscripts were found - most of which were sold off to explorers from the West and are now in fine museums around the world. The story is that the caretaker who discovered the sealed up library was cleaning away dust from a wall painting when he noticed that the smoke from his cigarette was wafting up, and apparently disappearing into the wall. Our guide says he walks around smoking all the time now, looking for the next big find (not entirely joking I surmised)
I also discovered the joy of foot massage last evening. They are advertised all over Beijing, but I had not indulged. Well, I am resolved to test the relative merits of foot massage in every city I visit on this trip! After a brief but vigorous neck massage, a small women with hard strong hands plays a sort of drums for an hour on your feet and calves. Remember those Japanese drummers - like that. It's surprisingly loud, and it feels amazing, especially after a long day of treking on the city streets or desert dunes. Warning: if you have had any knee surgery, she did a couple of pressure moves that would likely send you into the stratosphere in pain, so keep one eye open. She did some very interesting pressure point work around trouble spots like shin splits and ankles which would likely be beneficial for runners.
I also climbed the largest sand dune in the world, and then tobogganed down. I kid you not. If I was not at an internet bar, I would post pics of the climb up and the slide down. Well, it is not a bar; more of a warehouse with dozens of computers, and Chinese men smoking, playing computer games, and watching movies while their cell phones go off and Britney Spears asks to be hit one more time in the background. Needless to say, this will not be a long post!
I have also discovered what it is like to be Queen. Of a kind. I am staying in off season in the best hotel in this part of China. It is very large for the area, over 200 rooms. I am about one of 5 people staying here; I am the only person here for more than 1 night. So with an average staff of oh, 30 that I can see and likely another 20 that are behind the scenes, it is pretty generous staff to guest ratio!. It is also a very lovely property, decorated with light wood Ming style furniture, Persian carpets, slate floors and generous bathrooms. And the towels are plush and new - a treat in China I have learned. A uniformed driver took me out today to 2 additional sites, and walked unobstrusively behind me, opening doors and staying just within call range. When I walk around the property, folks stand when I enter or walk by, and say a polite neehow and bow slightly. The cleaning staff put a gift on my pillow and a note with good wishes for my life. And all of this for 50% off the rack rate! And the hotel food was quite good-I had 2 horrid lunches in town that made me ill even without trying the famous local dish of donkey and noodles. There is a really diverse, exhuberant outdoor market here - I will post pics later. If you are interested in coming here, I highly recommend the hotel: The Silk Road Dun Huang Hotel. There is one English speaking manager level person: her name is Wendy and she made my extended stay a treat rather than a trial.
Aside from the Caves and a few other sites, the town does not have much to commend itself to tourists. It is still a place that travellers stop into on the way to somewhere else. The surrounding red desert, apart from the golden dunes which are spectactular, resembles most closely a large flat gravel pit. No redeeming features. No features at all actually. I saw alot of military trucks on the way out of town; I suspect manouevres up here might include some shelling. Tons of pulverized material out there. So I will hopefully fly out tomorrow-Queen for 5 days might go to my head!
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Off to travel the Silk Road
Well, a part of the Silk Road, since do to the whole thing would take more than the 2 months that I have in China. Indeed, one person or one caravan never completed the entire route: goods changed hands many times from origin to destination. And would I would have to transverse the better part of this hemisphere and well into the West. So called the “Silk Road” by a 19th century geologist, there is much more than one road and many more goods than just silk were transported along its routes, over land and ultimately by sea, as well.
I took a fascinating 6 week course on the Silk Roads at the ROM this winter to prepare myself for China. Practicality would have suggested a crash course in Mandarin, but you go where your passion leads right? Mine led me to a darkened classroom every Sunday afternoon with a group of fellow history enthusiasts, lectured by a passionate professor of religious studies from UofT.
Trade with the West was initially driven by China’s desire for the Ferragamo horses of Central Asia. Tall and swift in comparison to indigenous Chinese ponies, these powerful animals gave the Chinese a decisive military advantage on the battlefield. You will see statues of them depicted in spirited mid stride on sideboards in tastefully decorated Asian style homes. (I am trying to find a way to ship one home!) In turn, the cities of the West and Rome coveted China’s exquisite silk, the production of which remained a closely guarded national secret for centuries. And so went over 1600 years of movement, in goods, people and ideas.
I fly tonight to Dunhuang, my first stop on a 10 day journey. (10 days give or take: I have left the return journey open so as to take my time if I wish to linger along the way) Dunhuang is a strategically important oasis town in Central Asia, as it is located near the point where the North and Southern Silk Roads came together to continue on to China’s capital, Xi’an. (I fly there next) The primary attraction now at Dunhuang are the Mogao Caves: they are part of a system of 492 temples or grottoes, which contain what is considered to be one of the finest expressions of Buddhist art, spanning over a period of 1,000 years. Buddhism is one of the ideas that moved from West to East and morphed and changed along the way. We saw Power Point slides of the Caves back in Toronto which were impressive enough to make me want to fly for 4 hours to see the real thing.
Dunhaung is situated at the edge of the Taklamakan desert. I chose my hotel specifically for its location on the edge of this desert: the sunsets are supposed to be spectacular. Taklamakan apparently translates to “if you go in, you won't come out", so no unescorted wandering for me! But perhaps a camel ride is in order.
I took a fascinating 6 week course on the Silk Roads at the ROM this winter to prepare myself for China. Practicality would have suggested a crash course in Mandarin, but you go where your passion leads right? Mine led me to a darkened classroom every Sunday afternoon with a group of fellow history enthusiasts, lectured by a passionate professor of religious studies from UofT.
Trade with the West was initially driven by China’s desire for the Ferragamo horses of Central Asia. Tall and swift in comparison to indigenous Chinese ponies, these powerful animals gave the Chinese a decisive military advantage on the battlefield. You will see statues of them depicted in spirited mid stride on sideboards in tastefully decorated Asian style homes. (I am trying to find a way to ship one home!) In turn, the cities of the West and Rome coveted China’s exquisite silk, the production of which remained a closely guarded national secret for centuries. And so went over 1600 years of movement, in goods, people and ideas.
I fly tonight to Dunhuang, my first stop on a 10 day journey. (10 days give or take: I have left the return journey open so as to take my time if I wish to linger along the way) Dunhuang is a strategically important oasis town in Central Asia, as it is located near the point where the North and Southern Silk Roads came together to continue on to China’s capital, Xi’an. (I fly there next) The primary attraction now at Dunhuang are the Mogao Caves: they are part of a system of 492 temples or grottoes, which contain what is considered to be one of the finest expressions of Buddhist art, spanning over a period of 1,000 years. Buddhism is one of the ideas that moved from West to East and morphed and changed along the way. We saw Power Point slides of the Caves back in Toronto which were impressive enough to make me want to fly for 4 hours to see the real thing.
Dunhaung is situated at the edge of the Taklamakan desert. I chose my hotel specifically for its location on the edge of this desert: the sunsets are supposed to be spectacular. Taklamakan apparently translates to “if you go in, you won't come out", so no unescorted wandering for me! But perhaps a camel ride is in order.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
There will be Roses
One does not readily equate a large, resolutely commercial city like Beijing with tranquility and natural beauty. But that is what you find easily within the numerous parks which punctuate the urban core. Many of the parks were the work of long dead emperors and are laid out in patterns which follow the ritual processions for sacrifice and worship of long forgotten gods. That form results in long winding pathways, and streams and fish ponds wreathed with willows. Formal flower beds are carefully planted and assiduously attended by large busy teams of gardeners. The largest and most elaborate is of course the Summer Palace, which I spoke about in an earlier post. These photos of flowers and kite flyers were taken in Ritan Park. Ritan Park is the oldest park in Beijing and its name means “sun altar” or temple. If you are so inclined, you can join local people at 6 am here, practicing the martial arts of Wushu: you would be familiar with its most common form, Tai-Chi.
Spring in northern China brings peonies and wisteria blossoms, both fragrant and extravagant harbingers of summer roses to come. The peony is one of the most iconic flowers in Chinese art (the other, and more prized historically has been the chrysanthemum, a symbol of long life). The peony is the symbol for nobility, female beauty and fertility, quite fitting to this season of renewal and rebirth.
Of course, I speak of food as well as flowers!
After a visit yesterday to a very good local market, I prepared the evening meal focusing on the first of the season, locally grown produce. Waxy new potatoes tossed with the most pungent mint and rich Irish butter, firm fleshy stalks of asparagus gilded with just a hint of that butter and lemon, and a salad of mixed baby greens with sweet cherry tomatoes. There was some protein in there too; medallions of pork tenderloin in a mustard sauce. And the fridge is full of containers of large juicy strawberries picked by my hosts over the weekend. I can honestly say, my cooking talents aside, that the asparagus was the best example of that grassy, succulent vegetable I have every enjoyed. Fingers crossed for a few more weeks of harvest!
You will note that I said that in Beijing one can find natural beauty: I did not say nature. One of the pronounced cultural differences between us is the almost incalculable value we in the West place on the experience of nature. We seek out nature when we need to be revived, energized or renewed, depending upon our urban malady of moment. For some, we feel closest to the transcendent, a sense of something larger than ourselves, however we define it, only in the presence of nature.
In China, not so much. Nature is that which needs to be, and indeed, must be, controlled, harnessed and mastered. It is emphatically not better left untouched. Better to be bent to one’s will. As I understand it, native Chinese here do not take a walk in the woods, hike in the hills, camp under the stars, or even dine alfresco. In such an ancient civilization, there has been a lot of mastering of nature over the centuries. Given the drive and ambitions of this country to be once again a dominant world power, there will be a lot more. It is not simply a need for ever more resources and power to fuel its exponential growth, although that is an imperative: it is also part of an aesthetic that prefers the tamed to the wild. Yet, there have been parts of China preserved as wildlife sanctuaries or protected zones for species unique or at risk. So perhaps there is a shifting of sentiment, but I do not believe that underlying difference in our perspective with respect to the intrinsic value of nature for its own sake has changed.
The title of this post deals with Roses, although I have not mentioned them yet or included pictures. Roses are the next wave of flowers to bloom here – and I expect a truly breathtaking display. Multiple rose buds on small, large and climbing plants are appearing everywhere – in parks, beside the roadways, ringing public buildings. Roses from China were introduced to Europe in the late 18thC, and they are said to have revolutionized the world of roses. Almost all of what we love about roses: richness in colour, unfurling shape, repeat blooming, and intensity and range of fragrance, we owe to the China genes. I am giddy with anticipation.
Spring in northern China brings peonies and wisteria blossoms, both fragrant and extravagant harbingers of summer roses to come. The peony is one of the most iconic flowers in Chinese art (the other, and more prized historically has been the chrysanthemum, a symbol of long life). The peony is the symbol for nobility, female beauty and fertility, quite fitting to this season of renewal and rebirth.
Of course, I speak of food as well as flowers!
After a visit yesterday to a very good local market, I prepared the evening meal focusing on the first of the season, locally grown produce. Waxy new potatoes tossed with the most pungent mint and rich Irish butter, firm fleshy stalks of asparagus gilded with just a hint of that butter and lemon, and a salad of mixed baby greens with sweet cherry tomatoes. There was some protein in there too; medallions of pork tenderloin in a mustard sauce. And the fridge is full of containers of large juicy strawberries picked by my hosts over the weekend. I can honestly say, my cooking talents aside, that the asparagus was the best example of that grassy, succulent vegetable I have every enjoyed. Fingers crossed for a few more weeks of harvest!
You will note that I said that in Beijing one can find natural beauty: I did not say nature. One of the pronounced cultural differences between us is the almost incalculable value we in the West place on the experience of nature. We seek out nature when we need to be revived, energized or renewed, depending upon our urban malady of moment. For some, we feel closest to the transcendent, a sense of something larger than ourselves, however we define it, only in the presence of nature.
In China, not so much. Nature is that which needs to be, and indeed, must be, controlled, harnessed and mastered. It is emphatically not better left untouched. Better to be bent to one’s will. As I understand it, native Chinese here do not take a walk in the woods, hike in the hills, camp under the stars, or even dine alfresco. In such an ancient civilization, there has been a lot of mastering of nature over the centuries. Given the drive and ambitions of this country to be once again a dominant world power, there will be a lot more. It is not simply a need for ever more resources and power to fuel its exponential growth, although that is an imperative: it is also part of an aesthetic that prefers the tamed to the wild. Yet, there have been parts of China preserved as wildlife sanctuaries or protected zones for species unique or at risk. So perhaps there is a shifting of sentiment, but I do not believe that underlying difference in our perspective with respect to the intrinsic value of nature for its own sake has changed.
The title of this post deals with Roses, although I have not mentioned them yet or included pictures. Roses are the next wave of flowers to bloom here – and I expect a truly breathtaking display. Multiple rose buds on small, large and climbing plants are appearing everywhere – in parks, beside the roadways, ringing public buildings. Roses from China were introduced to Europe in the late 18thC, and they are said to have revolutionized the world of roses. Almost all of what we love about roses: richness in colour, unfurling shape, repeat blooming, and intensity and range of fragrance, we owe to the China genes. I am giddy with anticipation.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
KTV - A Chinese Obsession
It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and my host decided that the best way to escape the downpour was round up some Chinese friends and head out for KTV. KTV is Karaoke, that entertainment form which in the West generally sees a group of drunken friends, crowding a microphone and doing their best Steppenwolf/Springsteen/Bon Jovi/Green Day impression, depending upon generation and musical tastes. (They say that one's taste in popular music is set at around the formative age of 19 - that would explain the wide range of musical options available at Karaoke bars, and why some songs you wish could be expunged from the planet still linger on like the smell of yesterday's Chinese takeout. Mandy anyone?)
The difference with KTV, is that instead of swaying in front of a drunken crowd in a bar, you rent a private room, complete with your own large TV monitor, 2 or more microphones, and comfortable seating. Indeed, depending on the size of the party, you could have a private bar, stage, musical instruments, hostess, multiple seating areas: whatever your budget can accommodate, there is a KTV option for you. These venues are incredibly popular - in fact, I saw so much money being put through an automatic currency counter yesterday, I was reminded of the casino cages in Vegas. On weekend nights, the reception counters at these giant complexes (often 3 or 4 stories) are pressed with representatives for large groups of friends, waving their cash, seeking entry. You rent the room by the hour, and admission includes snacks, buffet lunch or dinner, or even breakfast for the 24 hour spots.
The song selection is in both Chinese and English, featuring the pop stars of the day for Taiwan, HongKong, China as well as the West. You can learn a fair bit about a culture by observing it's popular forms - most Chinese girl singers are achingly beautiful in that fragile way, with porcelain skin (white skin is much prized here) full pouts and large soulful eyes. They wear less revealing or overtly sexual outfits than their American counterparts, tending to more feminine skirts or dresses which flow and flutter in the wind. They are all excruciatingly tiny: their legs are about the size of my arms, and I am not large. Most of the lyrics and stories relate to common, and apparently universal themes of boyfriends lost and found. The songs are primarily romantic (sappy comes in mind) in nature, and if they are not, they are more about female strength and power, than in your face sexuality. Mostly. There was a Chinese version of what looked like the Pussy Cat Dolls - Pussy Cat Kittens anyone?
In the extensive song selection (searchable by song title or artist) there are memories of raging hormones to be evoked back to about 1960. Some of the accompanying videos define cheesy - as in bad 80's frizzy hair, harem pants, big shoulder pads, sparkly hair ornaments, and are just hilarious. Others are the original footage from the 60's - I sang (badly) California Dreaming along with Mama Cass and the gang. You will find all of the classic Beatles song and of course Celine Dion - the theme song from the Titanic, My Heart will Go On, is reported to be the only English language song that all Chinese can sing along to without a tele-prompter. Now that is a pretty sweeping statement but it is said with confidence. Oh, and they also do the hand gestures complete with dramatic chest pounding at the right moments - now that, I need to see!
We spent 5 hours singing - well, they sang- I squawked through about 5 numbers. The hours flew by, partially because I was listening to 3 good singers practice their favourites and learn new tunes, but also because, frankly, I got into it. The technology smooths out most of your rough spots and if you forget how it goes, or can't hit the high notes, your potentially embarrassing moment is filled in for you automatically. One benefit of singing with those who take it seriously, and many do, is that you get encouragement and tips along the way. Like most people who have found something they love, they want to share it with you, and have you enjoy it as much as they do. Next time, I am going to bring my ipod so I can find the songs I love faster. I also want to learn to control my breathing and intonation - should tone down the squawking. Oh, and did I mention that all of this entertainment was had without the benefit of alcohol - although that might have improved my performance. However, it's time to let those Western inhibitions about performing outside my comfort zone go - if not now, when?
There is a seamier side to KTV which you might expect when the words "private" and "room" are put together and offered for sale by the hour. I did see that Youtube has some KTV videos that are restricted: you can assume the rest. I did not see any companionship for hire yesterday, but given that prostitution is pervasive here, and throughout Asia, I am not surprised. There is much that can be said, and has been said already on that unfortunate and some would say inevitable business. But not by me. At least, not today.
Friday, April 18, 2008
Cooking Class
My friends know my passion for food, and that I have been attempting to improve my knowledge and craft by taking cooking lessons at George Brown this past winter. I wanted to take cooking lessons in Beijing, which led me to the home of Chunyi Zhou and her hutongcuisine cooking school. Lessons are given in the tiny kitchen courtyard of her hutong home in the Hou Hai Lake area, a very popular hotspot for clubs and restaurants. Her home is off Nanlouguxiang, a renovated and consequently pretty street with high end craft shops and quirky comfortable café’s – I posted pics from it last week. It is very touristy but up market, so no pesky touts or aggressive stall owners. Since Beijing is the capital city of China, most of the tourists you will see here are other Chinese, and English will be spoken infrequently. In fact, if you are blonde, don’t be surprised if you asked to pose for a photo with Chinese visitors from the rural provinces – yellow and red hair are still a source of wonder there.
The classes are small and intimate – I suspect the most she could handle is 6 students at a time. On Thursday, my fellow devotees were a bejeweled lady from Limoges France, here for her architect daughter’s wedding, and a friendly mother and daughter from Germany. China seems to be a favourite destination for European children of a certain socio-economic group between finishing graduate work in their home countries. European graduate students have to get an internship in another country before finishing their master’s degree. Some of them, like this young woman from the Black Forest, are coming to China, falling in love with the place and making it their permanent home. (Mom was not overly pleased about the change of residence, like mom’s everywhere I imagine) Our menu today was steamed butter fish, Cantonese style steamed pork ribs and black beans, Sichuan style stir fry tofu with minced beef and Sichuan cabbage stir fry. All very tasty and I did discover where I have been going wrong in attempting to replicate Chinese restaurant meals at home. Mostly to do with not enough heat, salt and sugar. She teaches classes every day except Wednesday, and also offers an optional trip to the market and lecture on Chinese seasoning just prior to the main event. The class I took ran from 10:30 to 2:30, of course including lunch and materials and cost 180 yuan or $26, which I consider very good value for a learning experience, lunch and 4 hours of entertainment all rolled into one afternoon.
The classes are small and intimate – I suspect the most she could handle is 6 students at a time. On Thursday, my fellow devotees were a bejeweled lady from Limoges France, here for her architect daughter’s wedding, and a friendly mother and daughter from Germany. China seems to be a favourite destination for European children of a certain socio-economic group between finishing graduate work in their home countries. European graduate students have to get an internship in another country before finishing their master’s degree. Some of them, like this young woman from the Black Forest, are coming to China, falling in love with the place and making it their permanent home. (Mom was not overly pleased about the change of residence, like mom’s everywhere I imagine) Our menu today was steamed butter fish, Cantonese style steamed pork ribs and black beans, Sichuan style stir fry tofu with minced beef and Sichuan cabbage stir fry. All very tasty and I did discover where I have been going wrong in attempting to replicate Chinese restaurant meals at home. Mostly to do with not enough heat, salt and sugar. She teaches classes every day except Wednesday, and also offers an optional trip to the market and lecture on Chinese seasoning just prior to the main event. The class I took ran from 10:30 to 2:30, of course including lunch and materials and cost 180 yuan or $26, which I consider very good value for a learning experience, lunch and 4 hours of entertainment all rolled into one afternoon.
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