Hangzhou - Part 1

Last Sunday, the Chinese celebrated a traditional festival called Duanwu Jie – or Dragon Boat Festival. The most widely accepted version of the origin of this holiday is that it commemorates the death of poet Qu Yuan, who rose to fame during in the Warring States Period of the Zhou Dynasty. A descendant of Chu royalty, when the king allied with the rival state of Qin, Qu Yuan was banished for his vocal opposition of the alliance. Throughout his exile, Qu Yuan wrote a great deal of poetry, and when the Qin eventually conquered his beloved Chu capital, Qu Yuan committed suicide by drowning himself in the Miluo River on the fifth day of the fifth month of the traditional lunar calendar, which falls on June 8 this year. When villagers took their boats out into the river to collect his body, they would throw zongzi (a Chinese food made of glutinous rice stuffed with different fillings and wrapped in bamboo leaves) into the river to ward of the hungry fish from eating Qu’s body.

The three most widespread activities for the Duanwu Festival are preparing and eating zongzi, drinking realgar wine, and racing dragon boats. Some also adorn their house with images of guardian Zhong Kui, hang up mugwort, take long walks, and wear perfumed medicine bags, leading some modern researchers to conclude that the holiday was superimposed upon an ancient traditional holiday designed to ward off summer disease and evil.

Because this year marks the commencement of a new holiday schedule, which saw the shortening of the Golden Week period in early May, and the addition of several shorter holidays throughout the year, although Dragon Boat Festival fell on a Sunday this year, Monday became a public holiday. The festival has certainly been popular for a very long time, and is celebrated in various forms throughout many Asian countries. Now that it is an official holiday in China, it may rise in significance, though not perhaps for the reasons intended.

Taking advantage of every public holiday they throw at us, my girlfriend and I decided to spend the three day weekend in the city of Hangzhou – a city a few hours west of Shanghai, known as the starting point for China’s Grand Canal (one of the eight ancient wonders of the world), and a place unanimously described in state-run TV commercials as “the most beautiful city in China.”

SATURDAY

After a two hour flight, we arrived in Hangzhou on a misty Saturday morning. I hate early flights, especially after a long rigorous week, even if they are cheaper. From the Hangzhou airport which had just started constructing an adjacent terminal, we jumped into a pink taxi (a horse of a different color) and headed north into the center city. On the way in, I noticed run-down neighborhoods half resembling the less modern parts of Shanghai that are covered by 3-4 story traditional linong buildings (analogous to Beijing’s hutongs) and half resembling the ghetto along the tracks in Bridgeport, Connecticut. Once we approached the river, however, large office buildings and brand-new apartment complexes appeared – undoubtedly a section of the city that was nothing but grass fields only a few years ago. After crossing the surging Qiantang River and navigating through a few valleys and tunnels, we finally made it to our picturesque hotel resort.

The location of our hotel was just south of Hangzhou’s famed West Lake where the urban landscape to the east gives way to lush rolling hills and tea farms in the west. We had received ominous weather forecasts for the weekend but were nevertheless determined to make the best of it. While eating lunch at a small rural restaurant on the road, a short thunderstorm passed over. Luckily these flashes of rain did very little to hamper our plans since they never lasted for more than 30 minutes – of course, the darkness and wetness that characterized the weekend restricted us from fully capturing Hangzhou’s beauty in a photographic sense at least.

After mapping out the day, we walked to the end of the road to catch a bus into town. I was surprised to find myself using the buses frequently throughout the weekend. In Beijing, I try to avoid buses in every possible way since most are packed like clown cars without sufficient air supply and with passengers who have never used deodorant. Hangzhou buses, on the other hand, were properly ventilated, often had open seats, and the drivers were more often than not gregarious and informative. The biggest problem we had with the buses was producing the exact change for the 2 kuai rides. Because many tier two and tier three cities like Hangzhou are still in the habit of using 1 kuai coins, I would learn to collect them in my pocket just for future bus fares – but more than once we had no choice but to put a larger bill in the slot.

Heading north along the eastside of the lake, we were able to capture the splendor of the most pleasant road in Hangzhou, Nanshan Road. This curvy tree-lined road is like nothing found in Beijing, radiating charm with its many quaint coffee shops, restaurants and European-style buildings while the shade from its trees gives this area along the West Lake the allure of a tranquil summer sanctuary.

As we veered off Nanshan Road into more hectic commercial neighborhoods, I was finding Hangzhou’s streets more vibrant that Beijing’s. Because Beijing is a “suburban city” of sorts, a vast metropolitan divided by wide avenues and walls and where walking to most places in the city is considered inconceivable, the street life lacks the pulsating and fast-paced culture characteristic of mega-cities. In cities like Shanghai, New York and even Hangzhou where there are many layers of society that are crammed together to make for a more dynamic urban sprawl, sidewalks are flooded with people from all walks of life, office buildings are accessible from the street (not inside a compound with a driveway), and your apartment building has a doorman (not a gate keeper). Even though I love Beijing for its other qualities I am not a fan of its daqi (grandiose atmosphere) and personally prefer any city that resembles the electricity produced in the Big Apple – but that’s just me.

Eventually we made our way to the ferry (or river bus if translated into English) on one of Hangzhou’s many canals. This commuter vessel only stops at a handful of stations, but for out-of-towners like ourselves, we found much pleasure in just taking it for a ride through this remarkable city. We saw teahouses galore, waterside parks, traditional Chinese arching bridges, and of course developments being erected everywhere. Traffic on the canal is mainly attributed to long flat freight boats that transport coal and other minerals from one side of the city to the other. The men on these long slabs of iron were entertaining, often perched in front with nothing but tighty whiteys on while washing the remainder of their clothes in a bucket.

After hitting the last stop on the circuit, we walked through some of parks and over some of the bridges we had seen on the way upstream. Although the rain had seemed to be letting up, we were starving and immediately took a bus back to the main commercial drag closer to the lake. After perusing the block and discussing our options, we decided upon a restaurant that didn't need a menu – you could literally walk up to the few dozen buckets and baskets downstairs and point at random sea creatures, vegetables, and parts of chickens (like the feet). We eventually ordered green beans, asparagus, and a big lake fish (that came with Hangzhou’s special sauce). Although the fish was delicious, it was extremely hard to eat considering how tiny the bones are to avoid in fresh water fish.

Eating my fish on a makeshift rooftop patio while soaking in Hangzhou was definitely how I had envisioned the weekend, but halfway through thee meal, Hangzhou starting soaking us. Actually, due to a large table umbrella we were protected for the most part, but when this torrential monsoon-like shower started pounding the ground, it felt like it was raining from below us. Since living in China, I have never seen it rain so heavily and so violently. Living in a dry city like Beijing, we would be lucky to see that much rainfall in a whole month or two or three.

After eating a large bowl of noodles while waiting for the rain to stop, we made a quick exit, got on a bus and headed back to the warmth and comfort of our huge hotel room. It was a long day and even a longer day was to follow – after watching a few music videos of Channel V (China's MTV) I dozed off.

To be continued…..