Over the Yangtze River and Through the Woods
Saturday started, sunny and cheerful. I woke up early with the vague idea that I’d try burning off evidence of the piles of noodles, rice and dumplings I’d been consuming daily. On that particular morning, I wasn’t equipped for such lofty goals and I sat, instead, at my computer reading the New York Times.
Though I had originally planned to have absolutely no plans for the weekend, the call to explore one of Jiangxi Province’s country villages was all too tempting. So, at 9:30, I met my fellow lecturer Carlo, his visiting girlfriend Barbara, 3Kou manager Chen Rong and the tightly-coiled spring that is Rong’s dog, Black Bean, to begin our trip.
Rain is considered to bring good luck in China, but I had seen no indication of such fortune prior to the day’s surprise sunrise. Constant downpours, and half a week of icy-cold wind and low-hanging sky, left us all craving a change of scenery. With the wind now tamed to tolerable and periodic gusts, and the sun visibly straining to penetrate the remaining fog and haze, we all felt a short trip away from the city would be a perfect way to celebrate.
After some discussion we agreed to venture to the remote country village of AnYi. Off we drove, across the Hongdu-Hero Bridge, alongside textile, military and chemical factories, into the woods and then past farms, rice paddies and eventually to the foothills of MeiLing Mountain in XiShan.
AnYi could, more or less, be described as the cluster of three small Ming and Qing dynasty gated communities. LuoTian, ShuiNan and JiangTai, each in separate walled enclosures, were the brainchild of developers of a long-forgotten housing boom over 1400 years ago.
Having survived the ravages of time and the ideology of the Red Guard, they’ve recently been gussied up by local officials in an effort to attract tourists. Thankfully, the location is far away from the well-worn paths of day coaches, and the hordes of lumbering sightseers that clog and overwhelm better-known attractions are blessedly absent. What your four-dollar ticket gets you here is a peaceful stroll through the ancient lanes, houses, schools, shrines and businesses of a lively and functioning rural community.
I am a timid photographer, but I like to think of it more as being respectful rather than, well, lame. Despising any camera pointed in my direction, I tend to assume everyone else to be of the same mindset. Not so in AnYi. This is a town of aspiring top models, each of which could find their light, knew their best angles and most definitely loved the camera.
Black Bean did the work when it came time to finding lunch. Exhausted from a morning of chasing chickens and personally exploring the sites, smells and sounds behind every open or cracked door in town, he promptly sat himself down outside of a three table restaurant.
Barbara, Carlo and I, on the other hand, were a smidge more hesitant, at first, to second his choice of chow stop. Rong, however, was immediately in agreement and began to order up, what turned out to be, a perfectly delicious lunch of reconstituted fish, pumpkin blossoms with egg, tofu, broccoli and rice.
After a day of exploring China’s history, the drive back to Nanchang, through construction detours, past gargantuan smokestacks and into ever more increasing traffic and clutter, jolted me from past to present. At some point, I assume, this country will have to find the balance between unfettered growth and responsible, human-scale planning, Yin and Yang, all parts in harmony.
© Markus Horak, 2010
Loved the blog and pictures.
Beautiful pictures, Mark.