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:: A Little Taste of China
August 6, 2000
A Little Taste of China
Eastern and Southern China
At the food court in Beijing's Sun Dong An shopping plaza, I put my vegetarian translation card to the test. I handed it to the buffet server who nodded, then pointed to five bland-looking steamer trays of edibles. "Food for monks," the literal Mandarin translation for vegetarian cuisine, rang in my head.
Determined not to settle for another unsatisfying meal just because it lacked meat, I pointed to a tray of tasty-looking noodles trying to determine how I would communicate that I wanted them prepared without the diced pink bits. The server was ahead of me. She gestured to the tray, to me and then the kitchen. Great. The cook would whip up a special order. To be sure, I pointed to the meat and said, "Bu yao." "Bu yao, bu yao," she confirmed waving toward the kitchen.
I sat at a free stool at one of the crowded dining counters. Sucking up my noodles, I smiled to myself. You go, girl. You just ordered a vegan meal in Chinese.
Except for the two food court dinners, it was no unusual to have a half dozen entrees set in front of me for my tour-included lunches. Even with a persistent, "No," the food kept coming, sometimes as many as a dozen dishes. By the time I reached entrée number five, I could only handle a taste.
China, like its dining experience, overwhelms.
Slightly bigger in land mass than the U.S., with four times the population and 5,800 more years of history, a week's stay only provided a sampling of the country that, among other inventions, introduced the world to paper, printing and the compass.
Beijing had just emerged from a triple digit heat wave when I arrived: 106 degrees Fahrenheit. But the comparatively cooler weather was of little comfort to me at The Great Wall.
Fifty kilometers northwest of Beijing we came in hundreds, braving temperatures in the mid-90's to climb the only man-made structure visible from space.
It was in the city of Xi'an a few days later, that I made the connection: The Qin Dynasty emperor who unified China and ordered the construction of 8,000 life-sized terra cotta warriors to guard his tomb after his death, was the same imperialist who initiated the construction of The Great Wall.
While hiking up the Great Wall some men wrapped rags around their wrists. Others let white handkerchiefs dangle from their heads. Women mopped up with washcloths while the more dainty balanced umbrellas and fluttered fans. A little girl in a baseball cap with hair plastered to her face, blew down the neck of her T-shirt. And at the first rest stop along the Juyong Guan section of this 3,000 mile landmark, I cemented myself at a shaded window to savor a meager breeze.
By comparison, Tiana'nmen Square - the 100-acre plaza in Beijing's center, the Forbidden City - the imperial residence so-named because it was closed to commoners for 500 years, and the national Buddhist Temple of Heaven, were literal walks in the park.
In a peaceful valley not far from The Great Wall, the Americans on my group tour zipped down the Sacred Way to the Ming Tombs on a golf cart. I savored every green inch on foot, admiring the Avenue of Animals lined with huge white statues of real and mythical beasts.
In Chongquing, 1,500 kilometers southwest of Beijing, I boarded the Splendid China cruise ship for a trip down the Yangtze River. The cruise's main attractions - the Great Qutang, Wu and Xiling Gorges - did not disappoint. And the quiet, placid longboat float through the lesser gorges on the misty green water of the Shennong Stream was an added treat. But what fascinated me was the building of the new dam and its effects on the people and villages along the river.
The Three Gorges Dam is the largest conservancy project ever built in the world. It is composed of a dam, two powerhouses and navigation facilities. The total construction - begun in 1993 - will last seventeen years and is divided into three stages. The second stage is from 1998 to 2003. The project's main objectives are to improve flood control, generate more powerful electricity and enhance navigation conditions allowing 10,000 tons of barge fleets to sail upstream east to west from Yichang to Chongquing.
As early as the 1950's, various ministries, commissions, institutes and universities have researched the ecological and environmental impact of creating this immense reservoir. But no one can say with certainty what the long-range effects will be.
Fengdu is one of nineteen cities that will be submerged under water in 2003. One hundred forty towns, 326 villages and an array of highways, industrial and mining enterprises, cultural heritages and historic relics will also eventually disappear.
As you enter Fengdu, called the Ghost City due to centuries-old karmic legends, its city gate counts down: "1046 days." And building signs mark the 175 meter water level at the completion of the project's second stage.
But our cheerful Fengdu guide told us not to worry about his city as he pointed across the Yangtze to new construction on the upper region of the outer bank. The highest level of the water will be lower than the city's new location. And of the 204 billion yuan or twenty-five billion dollars spent on the total dam project, forty-five percent will go to resettlement.
Disembarking the Splendid China at Yichang, the location of the existing Gezhouba Dam and the new Three Gorges Dam, we drove an hour and a half east to Jingzhou city, home of Mr. Sui.
Mr. Sui is a 2,000-year old corpse. A wealthy county governor, he was buried in 167 B.C. and discovered in 1975. He is a unique tourist attraction because of his state of preservation upon discovery and until today: His skin is soft and tender and his intestines, fingerprints and teeth are fully in tact.
No one knows the secret of Mr. Sui's sophisticated preservation except that his son buried him with a mysterious red powder that, when mixed with the ground water entering Mr. Sui's inner coffin, created an industrial strength embalming fluid.
A three-hour drive further east brought me to Wuhan, the fourth largest city in China - population 7 million - and capital of the Hubei Province.
Not to be missed is the Hubei Provincial Museum, housing 1,000 of the 15,000 eye-popping goodies from the Marquis Yi's tomb, discovered in 1978. The greatly mourned Marquis lived during the 5th century B.C. At age twenty-five he was buried with his dog, twenty-one female sacrifices as well as tributes ranging from bronze wine vessels to enough musical instruments for an orchestra. The most stunning instrument is the two-and-a-half-ton, three-tiered, five-octave chime bells requiring three musicians to play it.
I could have spent a full day admiring the finds at Wuhan's Chinese Rare Stone Museum. Formerly a Bonsai garden, this 10,000 stone museum houses gems from throughout China - including the naturally formed Chrysanthemum Stone - and attracts international collectors.
Back in Beijing, Dean, my guide, helped me dust off the Mandarin I attempted to learn eight years ago. The four tones are still the killer. In Mandarin, "Cha" means fork, tea, bad or underwear depending on the tone used: flat, up, down/up or down.
My last nibble in China was at the recommended Beijing Green Tianshi Vegetarian Restaurant that sported a veggie wall of fame including Plato, Darwin, Shakespeare, Gandhi and Paul Newman.
It's a good thing I eat with chopsticks. It might have looked funny if I'd asked the waitress for underwear.
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