Fuddland

A few weeks ago I travelled with my faithful companion Rose to Ānhuī (安徽), the province just west of my home province of Jiāngsū (江苏), to visit a range of mountains known as Jǐuhuá Shān (九华山): Nine Glorious Peaks.

Our route from Sūzhōu (苏州) was not the most direct: first we went a couple of hours north of Sūzhōu to spend the night in Tàizhōu (泰州), the hometown of one of Rose’s colleagues — a woman in her early twenties — and were treated to an insight into Chinese family life and culture. We arrived late morning and were presented with quite a lavish lunch — amongst the many and varied dishes, I remember a combination of tofu and crab’s lung being quite tasty, although Rose seemed to think that you’re not supposed to eat the lungs of crabs. [We didn’t suffer any ill-effects, so at the very least perhaps they’re okay in small quantities.]

The conversation was pleasant enough but quite simple, and once Rose’s and my Chinese skills had pretty much been exhausted, talk consisted of various members of the family pointing at a dish, saying, “(吃)” [“chī”, meaning “eat”], us smiling politely and chopsticking a token amount into our mouths.

Tàizhōu itself is spectacularly unspectacular, with no real claims to fame beyond being the hometown of a few renowned masters of the Peking Opera. I thought at one point my hosts told me that Hu Jintao, the current president of China, is also from Tàizhōu, but this appears to be false so I probably misunderstood what they were trying to tell me.

Dinner was taken at a lush public bathhouse, and proved to be mildly farcical in that we changed into cute little short pyjama sets [cream for the boys, pink for the girls], went to the restaurant upstairs for a buffet dinner, then came back down to the changing rooms, stripped off the jammies and went to enjoy the [separate, unisex] sauna, steam room and pool. Why we had to change out of our own clothes in order to dine is something I’m still trying to figure out.

The sleeping arrangements were quite awkward: Rose, her colleague and the mother shared the main bedroom [with the mother insisting on sleeping on the floor]. The father was sent to sleep at a friend’s place [in case he caught a glimpse of Rose’s bare elbow, or something], and I was given the daughter’s bedroom. A child of the one-child-policy era, the room was adorned with portraits of her, glammed-up to the eyeballs and post-processed beyond recognition.

Lunch the next day was along the same lines as the day before, save for the beverages. In an effort to make us feel even more special, and to make a change from the beer that we [the men] drank with yesterday’s lunch, the father decided that a triple brandy was an appropriate lunchtime beverage for a strapping lad such as myself. Rose, being a more delicate — but still Western — female, got away with a standard, shot-sized helping. I managed to finish mine and had a warm fuzzy feeling for my troubles, but it was a shot too far for the dad and he was clearly more than tipsy at the end of the meal, making it even harder than usual to make out what he was saying.

My still cheeks a-glow, and laden with a generous parting gift of fruit, buns and soft drinks, we set off on the next leg of our trip: a train to Héféi (合肥), the capital of Ānhuī.

#1

Gordon | 2007 / 05 / 31 – 19:55

I have been reading, not commenting much but your insights into Chinese culture are absolutely fascinating.

And why no photos of you in those ‘cute’ pyjamas?? ;-)

#2

David | 2007 / 06 / 01 – 02:15

Re #1: Even if they existed, your request for photos is enough to never, ever publish them. ;) But thanks for the compliment, glad you’re still reading. :)

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