John had prepared a
complete agenda for my visit, building in plenty of rest time. He had booked a
suite in a fine hotel: the living room offered a couch and a mahjongg table,
with four of the most comfortable chairs I’ve seen in China so far. The bedroom
was standard, with the unusual inclusion of a computer, that I made no use of.
During one of these
downtime periods I reflected how much more I enjoy spending time with male
companions. While females are just as obsessed with lavish entertainment and
indulging my every whim, they go wayyy farrr overboard in assuring themselves
they are taking good care of me. because the contrast is so dramatic, I’d like
to talk more about that later. For now…
Guys are solicitous, but
not to the point of mania. Note such care in John’s selection of
accommodations, in his plans for entertainment with downtime built in, and the
remorse he felt when I made a splash at the swimming hole. Not a good splash,
either. That story is coming up.
After showing off Chi
Bi’s three bridges, he introduced me to his family at a fine restaurant in Old
Town. There I met his mother (who chided him for not taking proper care of me),
his best pals since childhood, his aunt, his cousin and a few other relations.
Of course this meal was a lavish affair, designed to impress, no holds barred,
red wine included. The table fairly groaned under its load of food and we
groaned over our distended stomachs at meal’s end.
Time for a rest. Off to
the hotel, where I am shown my room and accorded a generous 3 hours for a nap.
After that, we (John, his friends and me) went off to the swimming hole.
Unfortunately storms were brewing and the official swimming area was closed. We
drove around the lake and over the dam while gentle rain pattered down. Didn’t
stop us from getting out, admiring the view and taking pictures. Chi Bi has
very scenic outskirts. John offered an illegal trespass into the water so that
we could at least dip our feet in. A timely rumble of thunder sided with my discouragement.
We got back in the car.
We went swimming the next
day. I have to tell you that, although I am an enthusiastic swimmer and a fan
of all water sports, I am leery of chancing a dip in the waterways of China. If
the water out of my tap at home has the ability to eat the first layer of skin
off my fingers (and it does!), what might untreated water do? And then to
submerse myself?
Again John proved
determined. Did not matter that I had no swim clothes; he assured me of a plan
that would involve my enjoying the water while staying dry as a bone. When I
protested the cost and the effort he shrugged my concerns off. After my forth
attempt at nixing the idea I relented. This young man had it in mind that I
should enjoy the water and I was going to, no matter what. He rented an
inflatable raft for me and a life preserver for himself.
Actually, because
swimming is such a novel pastime in China, all who enter the water are mandated
to have a life preserver. This is an extreme I’ll talk more broadly about in
our next post.
As I’ve often iterated,
anything Chinese-sized is much too small for me. Same applies to rubber rafts.
It would have been OK had I followed my original plan to kneel in it, or sit in
the middle tailor fashion. In this instance John and his cohorts felt it
necessary to instruct me: I should sit with my legs pointed directly in front
of me, putting my center of gravity at one end of the raft. That did not work
well. Nothing about the raft idea went well.
In the States all entertainment
venues, from wildlife parks to casinos, all manner of regulation, caution and
barrier to possible physical (and even moral) harm exists. Not so in China.
There may be steps carved out for easy access into the water but these steps
have no handrails and are smooth concrete, overgrown with slippery algae. Step
at your own risk – and there isn’t a sign saying so. That’s what happened.
Stepping onto that first slime
covered step I upended myself, thoroughly soaking everything I was wearing.
While me and my audience, all the bathers, laughed our fool heads off, poor
John and his friends were absolutely mortified. Instantly they surrounded me,
each doing their best to pull me up. Their efforts meant that I was literally
being tugged in three different directions at once, the effect of which,
between the flux of water, the slippery step I was sitting on and their
tugging, was my bobbing to and fro like a tethered buoy.
I finally persuaded them
to just let me be so I could get up on my own. Tremulous, remorseful, nearly
unable to restrain themselves from helping, they stood back while I scooted
myself up to an unslimy stair, where I was sure I would be able to regain my
footing. In the time it took for me to do that, someone else wiped out exactly
the way I did and the crowd laughed anew, this time with me and my group
joining in.
Slimy Concrete: 1.
Krejados: 0. Battle wounds: 1 raw toe and one dislocated knee that did not
manifest itself in its full, glorious pain until later.
Battle wounds! Battle wounds?
Yes! A battle!
That is what we saw that
morning, while visiting the Battlefield of the Red Cliffs. Not really a
reenactment of a battle but a presentation of costumes, customs and dance.
Between divergent annals
and the obliteration of all heritage through the years, very little is known
about the Battle of Red Cliffs. Historians presume the significance of the
locale based on the size of the fort and the relics found there. It has been
speculated to be a conflict of major importance because of the known alliance
between the two southern warlords and the numerically superior and better
organized troops of the northern warlord. The most detailed account of the
battle comes from the biography of Zhou Yu, written in the 3rd
century AD.
Due to the lack of
records I cannot give a proper accounting of this battle or of its historical
significance, but I can include pictures of the magnificent structures that
have been painstakingly restored. I can also positively assert that the city,
formerly called Pu Qi adopted the Chi Bi name in 1998 to tie the area to the
Battle of Chi Bi. I can’t tell you why the battle was called Chi Bi.
What I can tell you is
that the residents love their city.
At night the People’s
Square is filled with dancers, strollers (people walking, not baby carriages)
and folks just enjoying the night. A jumbotron bathes the square’s center with
light, broadcasting topics of interest such as the current wildebeest migration
in Africa. In a less illuminated corner children skate, the lights on their
rollerblades and scooters giving a surreal impression of hip, modern day cool
to their ghostly figures.
John chose this corner
for us to launch our paper lantern. With audience present, he offered me a
marker to inscribe my wish. I rose to the challenge, writing “I love China and
all my friends” in Chinese. Onlookers nodded their approval as my small verse
went from mouth to ear throughout the crowd. John wrote his wish, and then an
onlooker lit the fuel cell while John and I held our balloon aloft, waiting for
the air inside to heat up enough to carry it heavenward. Then, we spent about
15 minutes while I posed for pictures with those from the crowd proffering
cameras. Till then, neither John nor his friends believed people reacted to me
that way. Alternately bemused and called into service as photographer, they
later conceded I was not exaggerating about foreigner fever – that odd syndrome
where people feel compelled to stare and gape, perchance even reach out and
touch.
I don’t think Chi Bi sees
very many foreigners. I drew more than a normal share of attention while there
and did not see any other foreigners. Why John chose to highlight my presence in
the park by adorning my head with a flashing pink bow I have no idea. As though
being foreign, nearly 2 meters tall and twice the size of anybody else in the
park weren’t enough to draw attention to myself.
He honestly did
everything possible to insure my comfort, pleasure and entertainment. He worked
very hard to cover the highlights of his hometown in the short time I planned
to be there.
While I have good reason
to be leery of someone who is so adamant that I come to visit, John was
pleasantly laid back and non-controlling, all while coordinating the whole
event from transportation to food. Now that I know I have nothing to worry
about while visiting this delightful, eager young man I will gladly make
another trip to Chi Bi and spend more time. There really is a lot to do and see
there. Not only that, I have friends I have to visit.
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