During the 1800’s China was a divided country. Russia,
Germany, Great Britain, France and America, among others all came over, first
as opportunists, next as missionaries and finally educators to settle and
civilize what they considered a nation of natural riches, unfortunately full of
heathens and savages. I believe they didn’t quite realize who or what they were
reckoning with.
After years (Centuries!) of exploitation and occupation, the
Chinese had enough of all these strangers impressing their way of life and
enslaving their people. There ensued a rebellion, The Boxer Rebellion, during
which the Chinese forcefully evicted all foreigners. After this nearly
completely successful expulsion, China closed her borders and didn’t let any
foreigners in for the next eighty years. Of course, she had her own power
struggles within, culminating in the birth of the People’s Republic of China in
1949, ruled by Mao Ze Dong and governed by the Communist Party as we know it
today.
Prior to the Boxer Rebellion, Germany had taken over a large
part of coastal lands and established itself in the religious development of
the country, as well as forming a Naval force and in the shipping industry. The
German stronghold was the coastal city of Qing Dao (pronounced Tsing Tao) and
radiated out from there.
I originally became interested in Qing Dao because of a
movie I watched called The Floating Landscape, situated in that city. Not only
is the story gripping and real but the backdrop to the story, the old part of
Qing Dao haunted me. I wanted to walk those very streets. While watching the
movie, still in the States, I vowed I would make it to Qing Dao one day.
And, there’s another reason: architecture is not the only
thing the Germans left behind. Their monks had taught the Chinese how to brew
beer and now Tsing Tao beer is famous worldwide. You can buy it in select
stores in the States. I was introduced to it when I came to China the first
time in 2008, with the International Scholar Laureate Program, a delegation of
students interested in archeology and anthropology.
That trip/group is where I met Debbie, the one I wrote about
in the Looking Back entry, posted November 2011. She and I are still friends,
of course. By the way: she just graduated from law school: Congrats, Debbie!
Or, could I say, tongue in cheek: Contracts, Debbie!!! LOL (Yes, she does read
this blog).
In our sporadic communication over the years, Debbie has
often said she would thirst for a Tsing Tao beer. I thought I would pay tribute
to her and visit the brewery. You already read about that, 3 posts back.
Qing Dao is divided into 3 distinct parts: Old Town, City
Center and New Developments. I focused my explorations mainly in Old Town.
There was so much to see and do there! I only ventured to New Development once,
by accident (I’ll tell you about that next post), and City Center twice: for
Snack Street (see previous post) and for the May 4th Square. I’ll
get to that in a post or two.
Qing Dao Old Town is pleasantly walkable, reminiscent of San
Francisco, only less steeply hilly. The streets are laid out randomly, as
opposed to the grid patterns one is used to seeing in established
municipalities. Green abounds everywhere; indeed the name Qing Dao means ‘Lush
Island (or Green Island)’. There is
certainly a feel of Germany in Old Town, as its skyline is dominated by the
twin spires of its Catholic cathedral, set upon a hill. The train station, the
city’s transportation hub, is only about 100 meters from the beach. From there
radiate buses that crawl all over town. Of course I made ample use of those
buses.
Everywhere I walked and everywhere I rode showed something
else of interest. I do believe I hit the highlights during the 5 days I was
there but I’m certain there are things I missed. It would not hurt my feelings
to go back.
Could I live there? Only 2 problems: food, and possibly the
weather. Qing Dao’s culinary specialties being mostly seafood, the very smell
of which sickens me would make it hard for me to stay longer than a few days,
or to enjoy dining excursions. And remember: I was there during the height of
summer, when the weather was fine and people were out en masse. What about in
the dead of winter, when that cold ocean wind blows in from the coast? It might
be a completely different town: no festive lanterns hanging, no gaily colored
vendor umbrellas, no relaxed pace or resort like feeling.
I was pondering the ‘Could I Live There’ question while
walking down a shady street past the Christian church, under the watchful domes
of the Old Observatory set on a hill and headed toward the mansion of the
former German Governor when, to my right a quiet voice piped up: “Excuse me: do
you speak English?”
My normal inclination is to respond to the negative. I would
have done so, until I looked at my interlocutor: a petite woman with red hair
and a pink blouse, a large camera slung around her neck. She seemed harmless
enough so I did aver that speaking English is within my repertoire. We stood in
the road talking for maybe twenty minutes before I invited her to have a sit
down and a cup of tea somewhere close. I had been walking all morning and the
temps were climbing, as was the humidity. It seemed like a good time to take a
break.
We found a nearby tea shop, decorated in Victorian style all
but for that telltale plastic tub with turtles swimming in it, indicating we
were still in China. We spent the rest of the afternoon chatting like old friends.
Nan was bitten by the China bug some twenty years ago, when she came here with
her husband and son. Having recently laid both of them to rest, Nan continues
her love affair with China, albeit on yearly rotations. She is no longer able
to obtain a worker’s visa so she buys a tourist visa and stays till it runs
out.
What tales she has! This woman is fascinating! She was here
in the time when China and the Chinese were not necessarily as kind and open to
foreigners as now. Nor was it as capitalist a country as it is now. She told me
of her trials and travails, and gave me opportunity to share my experiences
with her as well. While we swapped stories, enjoyed tea and nibbled cookies the
afternoon gave way to evening.
Come time to part company I offered to pay the bill. I had
gathered the idea that my companion was on a fixed budget and besides, I had
invited her, no? Unfortunately that charming tea house became the scene of our
rape: we were charged 65Yuan for two cups of tea and a small plate of cookies!
Even my complaining and bartering efforts would not reduce the price. And here
I was, wondering how the place managed to stay afloat with no other customers
all afternoon besides us. While Nan visited the restroom I returned to our
table and took the remaining 4 cookies, stowing them in my bag. I had paid
enough for them, why leave them behind?
You can visit Nan’s website at www.gypsyroseintlphotography.com.
You can see a picture of us here.
And, if you get a chance to, please watch that movie: The
Floating Landscape. It is about a young woman who seeks a landscape her lover
painted just before he died. So in love were they that she was seeking every
connection to him she could find, even after his death. She traveled to his
hometown, Qing Dao, and boarded with his Aunt while trying to find the panorama
of his dreams. She meets and keeps running into Lit, a postman and aspiring
artist, who helps her navigate the city and ultimately meets her at the site of
her past lover’s dream. Destiny? Serendipity? Who knows… but the movie does
irrevocably indicate that Fate played a guiding hand in bringing Lit and Maan,
the female protagonist, together.
A beautiful story for a beautiful city. Let’s keep exploring
it, shall we?
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