Bruce's Blog 5

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Yangshuo Impression.

It was a theatrical event to celebrate Liz's birthday. We will never experience the like of it again. The director was the director of the Beijing Olympics opening ceremony. He has taken the natural spectacular beauty of Yangshuo's Li River and its kyrsts, floodlit them, added a cast of hundreds ordinary folk doing what they know, highlighted them with rays of lights and lasers, set them to a vast musical score overlaid with careful blending of folk and operatic voices, and told a simple love story of which I couldn't understand a word, but felt every emotion.

The performance is in the open air at night, on a stretch of the river. The opening scene is one from classic Chinese opera on a floating stage. Suddenly a torchlit armada of small bamboo boats glide smoothly across a dark surfaces choreographed into infinite patterns with the kyrsts floodlit in the background. They use brightly coloured lengths of material strung across the river to form themselves into bright platoons of male and female choruses. Figures somehow glide across the water as lasers create patterns, first silver, then gold, then scarlet, on their reflective costumes. A crescent moon is rocked by a dancer on its face to the rhythm of strong clear music.

These are the people of Yangshuo in these roles. Fishermen and boatmen, who ply the Li River in the day, become actors in a grand performance at night. women who tend the rice paddies and children transform into prime donnas under the moon. Even the animals such as cormorants and water buffalo make their entrances and take their curtain calls.

It is packed house at every performance, with thousands in tiered seating enthralled by the spectacle. Announcements that photography is not allowed are ignored, but each sudden change of scene is greeted by an audiences collective gasp.



Yangshuo to Shenzhen



LiPing insists we come back to ShenZhen to celebrate Mooncake Day with the family. This is the Chinese Autumn Festival held on the full moon. As it is a four day national holiday and many will be journeying back to their family home, we thought it best to book our travel just to be sure of a seat.

We leave Yangshuo on a ferry up river to Guilin. The scenery continues to unfold as the Li River winds its way through groups of kyrsts with mythical names like 'nine wild horses' and 'watching lion', while the boat picks its way through rapids and shallows past river folk doing their business such as fishing, washing and tending ducks and water buffalo. There are also sets of beach umbrellas with families picnicking by the river. White horses are seen saddled and ready for riding.

After four hours we leave the ferry for a minibus ride into Guilin. It takes an hour and a half but we meet with a Malaysian Indian couple who are most widely traveled. Mahendra is a lawyer and Jacqui an economist. In particular, Jacqui is a free thinker and doesn't hold back in expressing her radical views, to which I find myself in total agreement, politically, morally, religiously, practically and philosophically. This was truly a meeting of minds. We agreed that the Red Star over China was the best thing for the nation, especially when compared to India with its similar population. The Chinese are proud of themselves and the progress their country has made. The streets and countryside are generally clean and hotel rooms are spacious, clean and modern with aircon and wifi. One certainly does not find the general poverty among the people as in India. When I asked Jacqui why this was she quickly answered that what held India back was "religion and a pretence of democracy". Middle class Chinese are compatible in their lifestyle to Australians except they live in multistory apartment blocks but each is fairly spacious. Sitting toilets seem to be replacing the old squat variety. The young have embraced new technology while their elders are not so confident. We all joke about our grandchildren teaching us to use our mobile phones. TV is just the same as Australia, except with Chinese programs. We watched episodes of the Chinese version of The Voice. It was identical to the Oz version, including the sets, the format, and the way the ads cut in just before a decision is made. Oh! The world in becoming so homogenised.



We were dropped off at the Guilin railway station, a dominating concrete building with many sections. After a meal at a street restaurant, and a quick walk around the fairly ugly city, the heat became overpowering and we decided to spend our four hour waiting time in the station. We were pleasantly surprised to find that our pre-booked soft sleeper tickets entitled us to a plush air conditioned waiting room where we could relax in comfort.

Ours was a night train leaving at 21.18 precisely for the 1000 km, 14 hour journey. The Chinese rail system has always been extensive, and has been added by a growing network of bullet trains. Trains have 30 carriages and are electrified. Our train was not speedy but it was comfortable and we slept well in our four bunk berth. They even served coffee in the morning.



Mooncake Day is the Autumn festival and second only to Chinese New Year. We began with a large meal with the extended family. The food dishes included pork, chicken, fish, tofu, yams, veggies and so on. After the meal we walked to areas where the people with children gathered to wave all sorts of lanterns. The full moon was accompanied by hot air lanterns floating from the tops of the tallest buildings. Next we arrived at a friends full moon party. Again the food was laid on including pomelo, a sort of large grapefruit which is a reminder of the full moon. But here the adults drank beer and wine. In fact, the hostess was in the process of brewing several large vats of fruit wine. She loudly challenged all comers to a skulling competition and they usually reeled away after one glass. However another group indulged in the Chinese passion for tea which is brewed and poured with the same reverence I have for coffee.

Generally it seems that the women of China are the ones in charge. More women are running businesses and in the family the women make the decisions for the men to complain about. The sexes mix freely and often tease each other in good humour. Although it is rare to see open showing of affection such as kissing or holding hands, they are often laughing together.

A Chinese woman is more likely to complain in a shop although this may be their bargaining technique. Open showing of affection is quite common between people of the same sex, with women often holding hands and men with arms on each others shoulders.

Meizhou is an isolated city 350km north west of Shenzhen. It is the ancestral home of Lizs mums family, the Lai, and also the cultural centre of the Hakka - Lizs dialect group. We visit Meizhou as the final piece of Lizs family jigsaw, but the final piece is difficult to fit, no matter how many ways you turn it.

It is a seven hour bus trip to Meizhou, the first 300km along a freeway taking just 4 hours. It's four lane dual carriageway slices through mountains and into long tunnels equivalent to Switzerland. Then the road turns onto a narrow winding mountainous potholed obstacle course, where the driver takes pleasure in passing trucks over a crest or around a blind corner with a blaring horn. We made it and found a hotel with wifi and aircon (it's still over 35 degrees) and thought we'd check out the Hakka Museum and Hakka Park. We'd been told that everyone in Meizhou would be speaking Hakka, so communications for Liz would be breeze. On the bus we heard Hakka, and Liz was able to speak it with the driver. However, in our hotel, when Liz spoke to them in Hakka, they answered in a version of Mandarin so communication was less than precise. I used my iPad translator to ask specially about the Hakka sites, and they'd never heard of them. I lost it. I stood in the lobby waiving my arms and pounding my head in frustration. "This is Meizhou, supposed to be the centre of Hakka culture," I yelled. "And you cannot tell me where the fuck is the Hakka Park?" We'll, my loud English failed to elicit anything but embarrassed smiles, so we walked out with me tearing at my hair.

Next morning we were determined to find Hakka Park and developed a plan of attack. I got the website on my iPad with a picture of the square Hakka village and showed it to the girls at reception who by now were talking to Liz in disjointed Hakka. Ah ha! Now they understood. Yes they would call us a taxi to take us there. It would cost us 120 yuan (AU$24) which I thought was a bit steep for a one way local trip. However, we didn't know how to get there so we agreed. Off we went but as we got to the other side of the city I thought something was wrong and showed the taxi driver the photo on the iPad. He had every intention of taking us to a round Hakka village 45 km away. I kept saying that we didn't want to go there and I got up a website map with the Hakka Museum written in Chinese. He still insisted on taking us to the round village until I blew my top once more and told him to take us back to the hotel. Back there the receptionist said we couldn't go to the museum because it was closed for a public holiday. I started screaming that we'd come all the way from 'odarlea' (Chinese for Australia) just to see Hakka Park and I want to go there today.

Into the taxi again and we head for the museum. It was open and full of porcelain urns etc. and was very boring. But nearby I found the tourist office marked in English. I barged in and asked if anyone spoke English. They all dived for cover. I then saw a picture of the square Hakka village on the wall and pointed to it. A lady who looked in charge pointed just over the way. After more expletives and telling the taxi driver we was stupid, he took us then to the SQUARE Hakka village. We gladly paid our 20 yuan entrance and went in side to explore. We found an 80 plus lady who lived there and her daughter. Liz enjoyed a long conversation in Hakka and she offers us a drink of water out of hospitality. It is a stone building of three stories with all the houses in a terrace around a central courtyard. The 30 foot outer walls were without windows for protection. Because the Hakka were foreigners to this area they always felt vulnerable to attack, so their villages, whether round or square, were all built with defensive architecture.

I was now happy that our mission had been accomplished. I gave the taxi driver a pat on the shoulder and let go my remnants of frustration with an almighty shout to the heavens "We found it!"

It is sure not easy travelling in China even with Liz speaking some language. My frustrations are getting the better of me, and Liz does get embarrassed at my unChinese ways, but she is secretly glad when my insistence gets us to where we want to go. No direction seems to be precise and everyone makes assumptions about what they think you should want. This has been the case all the way from the cousins in Shenzhen, to restaurant staff, to bus ticket sellers and, dare I say it, to taxi drivers.

Tomorrow we return to Shenzhen for our final night in China before flying out to Kuala Lumpur and Malacca for a few days.

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Photos

Bike Asia
Our Swiss guide on our 70 km bike ride

Yangshuo theatre
Spectacular production involving the ordinary people of Yangshuo

Li River
Water buffalo basking in the river

Mooncake Feast
Liz celebrates Mooncake Day with her long lost cousins

Mooncake Party
The lady with her alcoholic concoctions at her party for the Autumn Festival.

Hakka village
This 80 year old lady lives in her Hakka Village with is protected by the national trust