Little Snapshots of a Big Country

"It must be China I am beholding
on this early summer evening -
the great sway of rivers,
thousands of birds rising on the wing,
the jade and mulberries of China,
plum blossoms - hear the cry of a pheasant."
- Evening Alone, Billy Collins

Little Snapshots of a Big Country
by Crystal

For me, China is a country of red banners and badly translated signs, of bicycles and beggars, of great natural beauty and terrible man-poverty, of bargaining and boorishness, of great thriving life and endless renewal.

Of Kunming, I remember the endless tea houses and the bitter bitter sweetness of tea-scented rain; of Guangzhou, I remember the gigantic billboards and neon-lit signs trying to peek their heads out of the crowd; of Xiamen, I remember the beautiful tangerine brick houses on the hills like little blocks of pottery and finally; of Hangzhou, I remember the caves – so dark yet filled with hundreds of Buddha sculptures that seemed to have eyes that could see.

There are things I want to share that can’t be found in any travelling documentary, pamphlet or brochure – little snippets, moments, scents and flavours that we lived through in a quick flurry of fourteen days. I can hear Sandy’s voice ringing clearly in my ear, “Crystal, you are right! Everything’s bigger in China!” or the flavours – sweet, sour and salty (sometimes all at once) of all the dishes we ate. I remember being enchanted by Kunming’s quiet charm and thinking that Singapore shouldn’t be called a City of Flowers. There’s something romantic about the women selling flowers on the street in the two gigantic baskets they try to balance on their shoulders with a pole– a careful labour of love – like romance could be born anytime for just a few yuan. They even eat flowers in Kunming. Sadly, Singaporeans aren’t born to be romantic – when eating a rose biscuit, all we could think of was bandung.

Guangzhou was different – if Kunming was soft and feminine, like a sweet girl with pigtails, Guangzhou was its racier older sister, headstrong, wild and bedazzling with its colourful night life. For me, Guangzhou had the best shopping and compared to Singapore’s tidy rows of shops, I enjoyed Guangzhou’s maddening mazes – like a commercialised Alice in the Wonderland with enough bargaining to turn your proper life upside down.

I shall announce unabashedly that Xiamen was my favourite and probably because of the students of Xiamen, who were so warm, generous and open (although I must say all the students who hosted us in China were impeccable). Xiamen was like a long lost younger sibling – there were imprints of Singapore everywhere and it’s funny how beautiful the familiar can be when you are away from home. There’s just something very peaceful about Xiamen that I cannot explain – just strolling down its shopping streets (with no cars allowed to come in) or admiring their beautiful expansive university campus. And, that soft comfortable feeling is probably why I liked Xiamen the best.

Finally, we have Hangzhou, where I remember eating the stickiest dragon beard candy on earth. It’s hard for me to place Hangzhou in this family of Chinese sights. I remember it for its myths and legends of love – unrequited and sacrificial. My memory is cloudiest for Hangzhou but I remember feeling strangely nostalgic and I felt like I was walking through a Chinese lyrical poem.

China can be really beautiful and it can be really ugly - but I suppose my favourite characteristic of China is that no matter its wealth or poverty – it is always filled with such immense history. And so, we walked through the landscape - sometimes under an umbrella, sometimes not - but always walking in air scented bittersweet by the numerous teahouses on the streets of China.