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| HUANG SHAN, CHINA |
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The train station at Suzhou was not packed. Just the morning crowd going to their daily destinations. The Chinese were quietly doing their own things, but I knew from experience that Chinese nonchalance only hid sharp ears and quick eyes.
The call for the passengers came. Together with the other Chinese passengers, we got up from our seats and followed the queue to the train. We talked little and softly too. With our Chinese skin and the Mandarin we speak, we can pass off as any Chinese nationals. That was what we did accidentally when we got on a local tour to Huangshan. Foreigners to China only get to see China with the official tour organization. Local tour companies are for Chinese only. We got onto our first class seats - comfortable red cushions with Chinese tea and seeds served. Rich locals were all around us. Next to us, a pair of brothers sat. They were the only people who looked around my age.
The train lolled through fields and rivers, mountains and rapids. Excited by the landscape before me, I stood on the seat and took pictures from a small gap above the window. The two brothers looked at me curiously (and, of course, tactfully without being too obvious), but none of us let down our reserved tact to make friends. The train ride went on for 10 hours. I stayed with my family and our neighbours with each other.
When we reached Huang Shan, it was already dusk. We searched for food immediately after putting our bags in the hotel. In the streets, there are many makeshift stores. Fresh vegetable, meat and fruits are displayed as customers choose their dishes. My mother, ever eager to try new exotic dishes, asked for Huang Shan's specialties. Ask and it will be given unto you; but what you ask for may not always be what you want. The dishes taste funny. I spat out one vegetable immediately after putting it in my mouth - it tasted like blood! We left the stall with our food untouched. Miserable and still hungry, we walked in the drizzle hoping to get something to eat. My father settled on bread while my mother and I sat down in another restaurant and had tomato soup with egg.
The next day, we set off for the climb up the mountain. We took a bus, changed into a cable car and walked some distance before we reached an altitude above the clouds. The mist came sometimes and covered our vision, but when the mist clears we saw before our eyes an unbelievable beauty. Ever since I was young, I had looked at Chinese paintings. They always have similar features to them. Tall, thin shaggy mountains, winding rivers and misty clouds. I have always believed them to be exaggerations. After all, I had seen photos of the Alps and mountains in America and Japan. Mountains have huge bases and are triangular. They don't jut out of the cloud like cliffs out of the sea. Well, when I saw Huang Shan, I saw the Chinese paintings in tangible substances.
Leaves of bonsai-shaped tress glisten in the mist. When the mist comes, you can only see the shadows of the trees silhouetted against a shifting cloak of white. When the mist clears, a sea lies before you, immobile, fluffy and deceptively inviting. Sharp peaks rise from above the sea of clouds everywhere, as far as the eye can see. The highest peak hidden behind a mysterious mist calls out to challengers. The tour guide warned us seriously that the death toll in Huang Shan is one of the highest in China because of the number of people who fell from its cliffs.
We stayed that night on the mountain. My family booked a small chalet for ourselves. It was an old army barracks which the Red Guards used during the war against the Japanese. There are even old army uniforms still hunging in the room for our covers. The room was at the end of a dark corridor with no windows. I wonder why I never thought about ghosts when I covered myself with the Communist uniforms to sleep that night. But that night, I dreamed of ghouls eating up a soul. I awoke with a scream. I knew too that my father was breathing heavily and making soft moans in his sleep.
We insist however on enjoying our trip. We woke up early next morning to see the sunrise. To our delight, the weather cleared and we were able to see the sun rising from the above the sea of clouds that morning. We saw the brothers on the train again.
We then began our walk down the mountain. Huang Shan is very beautiful. In every nook and corner you turn to a new natural wonder can be seen. The whole mountain is covered with myths and legends as the locals attempt to explain the shapes of the rocks. The tour guide knew by then that we were foreigners and recovered from his state of shock (In China, foreigners have their separate official agencies!). I suspect our itineraries were slightly changed.
Our bus stopped at several tourist shops on the way down. It is nothing special to us. We have been to China three times and each time we went, the Chinese tour agency will try to persuade us to spend our money on Chinese products. It was also nothing special to us when we stopped at a shop which sells medicinal products. To push the product, the sales girl burnt her own hand with a red-hot iron chain, quickly showing the tourists her burnt hand and applying the medicine to herself. After 5 minutes, she would show a hand that was magically made whole. We never believed in such miracle working product. The interesting thing however is the reaction we observed from our travel companions. Unlike our previous tour groups, our tour group consists of Chinese nationals. They were shell-shocked at the demonstration. Apparently, they have never seen such demonstration before. As we had seen it thrice, we were similarly surprised they never saw it. One of our travel companions is a Chinese journalist. I wonder if anything will appear in any magazine after this…
When we got onto the train back to the city we saw the same two brothers in our cabin again. It was a few hours of us minding our own business again until I decided that it was too unfriendly. They and my parents must be very glad when I initiated a conversation. They got on very well with my parents after that and actually talked with my parents for hours as if to make up lost time! My mother commented later that she never talked so long before in her life.
One thing I really feel about China is that it is a sleeping dragon. Her people are very intelligent. From the ordinary salesman to the taxi-driver, most of the people we talked to have a keen understanding of Chinese economics and politics. They understand the seasons and the times of the international affairs and are sharp about the modernization of China. Even the youths around my age have a certain maturity in thoughts which I really respect. If you are able to speak Chinese fluently, you will know something of the Chinese mind when travelling.
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