Three reasons why I love China

When you spend a long time outside of your own country, you sometimes, irrationally, get attacks of over the top Nationalism. During these moments everything ‘in my country’ is glorious, nothing is frustrating and everyone there ‘just gets me. You know, the British have a very dry sense of humour.’ During these moments the desire to return home, where you understand the language, the jokes and the cultural nuances, can be pretty intense.
For the majority of my adult life, the concept of China (and it is far more of a concept than a country to those who don’t understand its operations), scared, confused and even angered me. So, because sometimes I need reminding of why I’m here and because China deserves the good rep, here are my top three reasons for loving China: 

1. The utterly bizarre: In Shanghai they had the idea to build a selection of towns modelled on various different countries, mainly in Europe. There are several examples of this but my obvious favourite is Thames Town. Built several years ago, Thames Town was modelled on a selection of British towns across the architectural timeline: there are mock Tudor buildings hanging out next to post-war 1950s concrete blocks; uniform, modern houses lining canals - there’s even a miniature millennium bridge and cathedral. 


The town was originally built with the intention of housing several thousand people; it has a huge, grand (completely empty) hotel, café, pub, corner shop and clothes boutiques, which line its quaint cobbled streets. However, the train line connecting the town with central Shanghai was cancelled and now the town is barely inhabited. It stands as a ghost town, occupied by very few and utilised for wedding pictures and movies (quick side note-when we were there, while the recently married couple had a choice of Cathedral/river/ornate buildings as their wedding picture background, they chose to use the tackiest shop complete with ‘corner shop’ sign and advertisements for British goods that do not now nor have ever existed). This all results in an eerie, utterly bizarre and ‘really??!!’ inducing situation- like a bomb exploded over Russia and sucked Britain and China into a new dimension. My favourite part of this bizarre town is the Chinese beefeater-esq guards who we saw training in the car park in complete seriousness-yi, er, san…three step formations and not-so-perfected ‘queen protecting’ expressions.


This is just one example in a colourful finger painting of examples of Chinese bizarre-ity, all of which induce a delighted expression of utter bewilderment. 

2. Guanxi: The other day a taxi driver picked me up from an address that I couldn’t pronounce. I wanted to return to the exact same spot, so with the help of my assistant teacher on speaker phone, he took me to my apartment, waited outside for ten minutes and then took me back. He didn’t charge me for the time that he was waiting. Instead he shouted at me for the whole trip in the stereotypically gruff way that all taxi drivers seem to have here. It didn’t matter that I had no idea what he was saying; he just wanted me to know that I really should learn how to verbally navigate my own taxi-trips.

On the metro it is customary to barge - no one waits for you to get off, it is a race of excessive importance to reach a spare seat first. There have been several instances of my arriving late to work because I’ve literally got stuck on the metro, squashed too far against the opposite side of the car that I couldn’t break free. However, as soon as you add crutches into the mix, (although everyone stares at you as if you just walked off of the set of Sesame Street still in costume) they go out of their way to help you. My security guard literally runs to open the door for me. Old ladies on the street come up to me, concerned look on their faces, and gesture at my bad leg: 'Bu hao!' I’ve had a couple of really awkward experiences where someone in the toilets has tried to be so helpful that they have ended up in the cubicle with me.



It appears as though the Chinese are very internally focused and ignore common pleasantries, seen in the West as politeness. The language sounds perpetually angry: ‘Ai’, said using the fourth, angry-sounding tone, means love. Yet they will go out of their way to build a relationship with those they come into genuine contact with. It is one of the most generous and helpful cultures I have encountered. However, it is not built upon the great mass of crowd pleasing and is instead a more personally based concept. The concepts of guanxi (the building of relationships) and of mianzi (keeping and maintaining face, equating to respect) are of integral importance in every single aspect of Chinese life. The concept of community is still evident here and is refreshing and sometimes heart warming. 


3. Contrasts: China is vast and therefore is home to every kind of person, belief and natural wonder. This is evident in every part of China that I have visited: the hustle and bustle and polluted skies of Beijing contrasted to the Great Wall, which climbs the mountain side; the fact that in 12 hours we drove through the Gobi desert, the mountains and the grasslands in inner Mongolia; the traditional architecture and mountains which boarder the West Lake in Hangzhou and are accented by large factories and high rise flats. 



In Shanghai you can be in France one minute and stroll straight into an episode of The Jetsons the next, as Pu Dong reminds of a future living on Mars. Driving through downtown on elevated roads which fly over and under one another, is like being inside the internet, flanked on both sides by binary code. Every morning I leave my apartment – ‘the Fortress of Solitude’ – walk through the peaceful gardens and boom…CHINA!! Street food stalls line uneven pavements and cause smoke to billow above. Half dilapidated buildings, the downstairs of which are used for fruit and veg shops or massage parlours, are dwarfed by the towering high rises which sprout up behind. The street market next to where I live and the others around where I work are some of my favourite things about Shanghai – sometimes shocking, even now, and always exciting.



In a country known for its social and political restraints, I have never felt freer, at least in some senses of the word. If you have the money and the know-how, you can do absolutely anything in China. Shanghai in particular is a hub for diverse experiences. So, while there is social control, there is also the world’s largest, well, everything, really (skate park, indoor ski slope, paint balling range, roller coasters); you can have every type of food imaginable, delivered straight to your door. There is also the ability to have an A-list life style when in many ways poverty is all around you, which can be at times slightly shocking and deeply sad. However, the contrasts are what make a thing beautiful and interesting. They set things apart from one another and promote a further understanding.
Contrasts between China and England enhance my understanding of both cultures and also make me appreciate and miss my home more. It’s strange to think that this time next year, after three years away, I’ll be back living in the homeland!

Not so many world apart

Beijing according to Sophie

The thick layer of smog that hung over Beijing and clung to my skin was magnified in contrast to the seemingly fresh mountain air on the Great Wall. As mentioned previously, seeing stars or blue skies can be rare occasions in certain parts of China, so when we do have that lucky bright day or clear night, we tend to appreciate it so much more. Perhaps, therefore, my perception of Beijing has been polluted by the fact that the weather was cold and drizzly and the sky remained a very particular brand of carbon coloured grey.

My friend Erik had given me his much tested ‘Beijing itinerary’ and we booked a night at a hostel on his recommendation. Our hostel was wonderful with a relaxed atmosphere; the décor was simple yet beautiful, a particular highlight being an inner courtyard that is common in traditional Northern Chinese houses. Erik had done well. The hostel was situated a close walk to Tiananmen Square and was surrounded by small roads and alleys, home to a variety of markets selling a myriad of goods; flashing bright lights and red Chinese lanterns adorned almost every doorway and window display. In China you can usually tell the seedy level of an alley as measured by the seedy-o-meter: The more pink, florescent lights, the better it’s left unexplored, (unless, of course, your expedition has a wholly different goal).

Alex and I decided not to allow the rain to destroy our Dora the explorer spirits and planned to explore Beijing by night after having a quick shower, (during which I managed to flood the whole bathroom-this is something I have successfully achieved in several countries now…perhaps there is a book in there somewhere).

Within the first hour of our Beijing exploration we had noticed two things: 1. Beijing people are friendly (Ok, so they were trying to sell us stuff but they were friendly none the less) and 2. Getting a taxi in Beijing is a mission worthy of James Bond. Alex: What does he mean he wants 80 yuan? It cost us 10 yuan to get here, he’s having a laugh!! He was indeed having a laugh…he and his quasi-taxi-driver-friends laughed us right down the street.

Our main goal for the first evening was to get as many odd, fried creatures into Alex’s gob as possible. Well, I say ‘our goal’ but really it was Alex whose heart was set solidly on munching down some scorpions. It didn’t take us long to find the night markets; Erik told us exactly where to go and plus, Beijing seems to give the illusion of being really quite small.

I couldn't catch the movement on camera

The night markets are truly fabulous, with a special kind of vibrancy which one only finds in amongst the hustle and bustle of a market place. You can find the same energy in Camden town or in amongst the souks in Marrakesh: it is exciting and intoxicating. This atmosphere was made more incredible by the foreign-ness of the whole affair…like this was absolutely nothing like anywhere else in the world. Bright fairy lights hung in clusters above, putting stars into the Beijing night and lanterns and brightly coloured silks hung over stall after stall.  In and amongst the usual tourist tat and bizarre gift ideas (you can get a model doll made to look exactly like yourself- the definition of freaky-cool), were what we were looking for. Oh what choice, a banquet so splendid that Henry the eighth would tremble with jealousy (interesting side note: the Chinese for jealousy is ‘Chi1 Cu4’ which translates literally to ‘eat vinegar’). Displayed on sticks across counters and counters were a variety of insect and arachnid-the baby scorpions were still alive and moving on the sticks. Alex: I’m going to do it.  Me: You’re a bigger man than I! Oh god…ew! I can’t believe you’re actually eating that. What does it taste like? Alex: Fried bones mainly. Me: Tasty. Let me try a pincer…

Alex with the babies

There. There you have it. My one and only culinary experimentation was a tiny, almost none existent baby scorpion pincer. Alex on the other hand gobbled down all four scorpions and then…he…went…looking for MORE!! I have to say, I am continuously impressed by Alex’s experimental streak; it was around about the second stick of scorpions that me, the stall owner to my left and the random Chinese guy standing behind us started to get a bit nauseous. This time Alex upgraded from baby to daddy scorpion and the only way of eating such a beast, still encased in its very effective armour, is to suck out its wobbly bits.

Daddy scorpion actually not a deeeelish as it looks

 We moved on from the pedestrian street and soon found a whole row of food stalls selling ONLY strange creatures. You know, the kind that usually live in dirt or grass or trees; the kind of creatures which are too exotic to share my nationality. There were bee cocoons, fried birds’ nests, star fish, silk worms, baby sharks, dog stew, cat fillet, locust sticks and centipedes, as well as a selection of other delicacies. It makes sense to me, eating creatures that are in high supply which cost nothing but seeing them all laid out like that, I had to wonder how many actually got sold and what they did with the leftovers. Me: Hey, Alex. Dare you to eat a sheep’s penis. Alex: I don’t want to be the guy who ate penis. Me: Go on, it’ll be funny!!

            *** Some time later *** Alex: I think have some stuck in my teeth.

            *** Even later than that *** Alex: I think it went really far in. It kind of hurts.

Aaaaaand cue one of the all-time funniest moments of my life. I’m sorry Alexiho…I love you but this situation…well, this needs to be immortalised, dear friend.

After a very enjoyable and unforgettable day of climbing the Great Wall followed by a trip to Beijing’s night markets and the ingestion of some interesting, freaky creatures (and their appendages), Alex and I hit the hay.

This is NOT a joke

Our final day in Beijing began early and with enthusiasm. After breakfast we headed off to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Once we arrived we spent quite a long time trying to figure out where exactly Tiananmen Square was…as we stood, in the middle of it! Ho hum…into the not-so-Forbidden-City we traipsed, accompanied by a large crowd of eager tourists with cameras at the ready. Oh, there was Mao’s face over the gate of heavenly peace, very interesting, oh and there goes that toy solider crawling across the courtyard holding the Chinese flag. Me: Are we in the Forbidden City yet? How are we supposed to know? We found out that we were entering when they made us pay- this is always a good indication of when you have arrived somewhere important. Alex and I celebrated our discovery with a series of strangely posed pictures in front of one of many identical buildings.

Being classy in the Forbidden City

Perhaps I will be cursed by the ghosts of traditions past or the spirits of architecture appreciation and I’m not saying that the cultural and architectural importance of the Forbidden City isn’t without extreme and relevant weight. However, I will say that although beautiful and ornate, the Forbidden City is like being stuck in a Chinese hall of mirrors…everything is repeated over and over again. What is initially impressive becomes a very recent memory repeating itself. Perhaps this is crude and for that I am sorry, but really, it’s the truth. Perhaps this was emphasised by the rain and the grey skies- I tend to be effected by the weather.

Before we left for the train station we also went to the Olympic village and moseyed around. It’s a very impressive, futuristic structure, although I’m not sure what they do with it now. The whole area seemed more or less deserted apart from the tourists and usual tat sellers and both of the metro stations joining the area to the main town were closed. We had lunch in Beijing’s answer to Soho or the South bank- unusual, slightly eccentric boutiques, cafes and restaurants lined a pebbled street, which we discovered completely by mistake but which was a definite city highlight, for me at least.

All in all, although Beijing isn’t my favourite city in China or indeed the great wide world, it was a fantastic trip. Staying at and then climbing the Great Wall was a highlight of my life and travelling with such a dear and funny friend as Alex made the experience all the more enjoyable. Beijing was a city of firsts but for me, it is also a city of lasts and that makes it a very special place indeed.

Climbing the ever so great wall of China

After several fist crunchingly frustrating attempts at train/plane ticket booking via the internet, Alex and I experienced our first Beijing related Blue Square Shaped Victory (BSSV): purchasing our soft sleeper tickets at Shanghai railway station…at the English speaking kiosk. Our train departed at 8pm Monday night and would arrive in Beijing at 8 the following morning. As usual, I over packed, unsure of what to expect from the Capital city I had heard so much about (what attire goes most appropriately with scorpion munching, anyway?) As we dragged my unnecessarily heavy suitcase along the platform and gazed in through the carriage windows, our trepidation at what our sleeping arrangements would be grew stronger. What a glorious surprise, therefore, when we arrived at our compartment to find two comfortable (ish) bunk beds complete with slippers and clean (hooorah) bedding! Alex managed to successfully bully the Chinese business man who attempted to camp in with us and the whole 12 hour journey was spent sleeping in relative peace.

Our cabin

Our first mission was to make our way through the Beijing rush hour of intense people traffic to the bus station where we would begin our journey to the Great Wall. Immediately Beijing felt different to Shanghai. There was the same over population issue and similar sardine train effect (several times I’ve been late to work because I’ve been unable to get off the metro). However, it was the lack of something rather than it's presense that was so immediately obvious. Shanghai is so intoxicatingly electric and progressive. Driving through down town Shanghai is like entering the internet, flanked on both sides by binary code. There is nothing in this world quite like Shanghai and leaving it can create a drastic contrast. In comparison Beijing is grey and polluted: a beautiful and interesting depiction of the past but a sense of energy towards the future seems to be lacking.

The bus journey (BSSV no. 2) out of Beijing and into the Northern China country took about two hours; we finally arrived at a bus station in the middle of the countryside, strange that it can feel so remote just outside one of the busiest and most polluted cities in the world. We were collected by a driver and taken up the steep and narrow canyon road into the mountains where we would be spending our first night. Our first view of the Great Wall (aside from the miniature mock wall randomly placed on a roundabout) was when we stopped to use a public restroom.  Above the stink ridden building and rising high into the mountains was one of the seven manmade wonders of the world. ‘Wonder’, ‘great’…there was a lot of hype and expectation leading up to this moment and as we made our way further into the mountains and the wall continued to expand before us, it did not disappoint. It is truly an impressive structure, segments of wall broken up by large turrets and look out spots. The terrain on which this section was built is dangerous and steep; it was almost unbelievable to think about how it had been built and how many lives were lost in the process. The driver drove like any self-respecting Chinese man would- with courage and insanity, turning sharply around bends and teetering dangerously close to the ridge of the road. I chatted to him in Chinese (BSSV no. 3) about the very limited subjects I know how to chat about, as Alex gazed out of the window, silently praying for all four wheels to remain on the ground. Alex: I’m glad I didn’t bring my mum, she would be freaking out right now.’

 We were meant to be sleeping at a tiny hostel on the side of the mountain, outhouse and view included in the price. However, despite my recent battle on the great grasslands of Inner Mongolia, a night in sub zero conditions didn’t appeal and since the room available had no heating and the bed was made of bricks...we opted to sleep slightly further up the mountain in a tiny village. The village comprised of about five shack-like houses surrounded by farm land and the scene brought back happy memories of Sri Lanka and Nuwara Eliya.

The village where we stayed

 The bed took up most of the room and was made of bricks and wood. The underneath was an open space which served as a heating system, circulating hot air brought in from a large fire directly outside the room. It was an incredibly uncomfortable night’s sleep but waking up to see the great wall at dawn was completely worth it. The house was owned by a Chinese family and we ate our breakfast while watching their small children playing in the yard.

The start of our climb

We began our four hour climb on a non-restored section of the wall which was pretty damn dangerous, really. Me: Alex, I’m not sure we’re supposed to be on this section of the wall. Please don’t jump up and down on this rickety, wooden swing bridge suspended across the canyon. Alex, please don’t do the goofy dance right now in the middle of this very old, half broken, rickety swing bridge over a god damn canyon with a 30 foot drop into icy water. Alex, STOP IT!!! The climb was pretty arduous in parts, some of it being almost vertical inclines and a few times we had to get off the wall because it was in such a bad state. We then had to kind of scale the mountain side, using discarded cigarette butts and bottles as reassuring signs of successful adventures before. The benefit of being on a section which we later found out was indeed closed: there was not another soul around. Just us surrounded by shockingly beautiful nature- mountains, gorges and an actually blue sky, thankfully free of the thick layer of pollution which acts as sunglasses for the whole of Beijing. At around 8am the sun began to peep out over the mountains and by 9am it had fully risen, dissipating the mist which hung thickly below. Alex: 'There are seven billion people on this planet; I just can’t believe that none of them are on this bit of the wall with us.' I was massively grateful for it- the experience was incredible.