A cross-section of urban life in Jinan

I mentioned before that it is difficult to characterise the City of Jinan. After almost a week I don't yet have a mental map of the city’s layout. Our hotel is almost at the geographical centre of town on the edge of a huge square (second only to Tiananmen square in Beijing) where kite flyers come to play. All around buildings are either being constructed or knocked down. There isn’t a single style or theme to the buildings around the central square but the neon and plate glass facades owe much to Hong Kong and New York – a clear indication of Jinan's aspirations. Holes in the skyline are temporarily plugged with billboards printed with images from architect's computer models offering a utopian forward looking vision of buildings which will, no doubt, exist in a year or two.

From here we invariably travel in a chauffeur driven car with darkened windows either to other parts of the city or out to other cities or restaurants. We never know in which direction we are travelling but our driver seems to have a comprehensive knowledge of every street and the ability to navigate the traitorous Jinan traffic.

As we leave the central business district the buildings become more variable. The most modern and impressive sky scrapers inevitably belong to banks or more sober government buildings and huge screens celebrate the immanent arrival, in Jinan, of the Asia games. However, never have I seen such a clear example of the city as an organism independent of the will of the planners.

Whilst Jinan's reconstruction is comprehensive; its architectural vision clear and its scale impressive, the economic realities of life in China mean that where there is the potential for wealth (however small) urban weeds, or perhaps wild flowers (depending on your perspective) grow. Shanty towns of barbeque bars, bakeries, cloths shops and electronics stores fill up the in-between spaces of the city with temporary looking buildings made from concrete blocks and plywood. You won't see these on the architects plans.

Moving to the outskirts of the city through high rise tenement blocks in various states of disrepair and destruction we reach the outskirts. Jinan is surrounded by mountains and wooded hills and, in the UK these would be the leafy suburbs with expensive detached houses making use of the gradients for views. Not in China. The scale of development means that developers can’t afford the luxury of such low density housing. Instead whole hills have been erased to make way for new university campuses, new sports stadia an new high rises to cater for workers in the many factories.

The ‘suburbs’ eventually bleed into ‘rural’ areas. The agriculture is on an industrial scale (it would have to be just to grow the amount of food we have eaten in the last few days). Whilst villages in these areas consist of lover density detached courtyard houses – they are generally basic and in poor repair. A glimpse through a window in one of these dwellings shows that they are basic – with perhaps a few dining type chairs and a table.

And then we reach the outskirts of another city...

Culture Difference

I gave a lecture today at Jinan’s Architecture University. The exact context of this lecture has been shrouded in mystery and, despite only being advertised on Monday, about 150 people turned up. I had been told that the audience would mostly consist of lecturers and postgrad’s but, in reality, I think most were undergraduates. I was expecting a translator but, instead, found myself alone on the stage with instructions to carry on. I confidently talked through the first three slides to what I thought was an attentive and focused audience. Mid flow Meng stood up, stopping me, turned to the audience and asked something in Mandarin. The murmured response revealed that no one in the audience could understand a word I was saying. Meng hastily suggested that she translate for me and we conducted the rest of the lecture as a double act as I falteringly moved through the presentation giving Meng space to desperately try to translate words like ‘Augmented Reality’, ‘Topological Connectivity’ and ‘Spatial Syntax and Semantics’. When I’d finished the audience politely applauded and filed out of the room while a couple of students came up to ask Meng questions. Yes – to ask Meng questions not to ask Meng to translate questions for me. I was an irrelevant bystander and the pressure was on Meng. I was left wondering if the lecture had been any use to anyone but, as with much in China, the content was much less important than the appearance that the event had happened. Jinan Architectural University can now say that it invites international speakers and Meng’s uncle can enjoy the kudos which comes to the one doing the inviting.

When I reflect on the culture differences between us – they are marked and many but we have been somewhat insulated by a bubble of mutual incomprehension created by the language gap and Meng’s valiant efforts to negotiate the social norms of both nations. This process has just begun and isn’t going to be easy but we’ve had our minds and hearts expanded significantly over the last few days and life will certainly never be the same again.

Crazy China

There are conflicting opinions on what I should write in the blog today. On the one hand I could tell you that mums growing infirmity led to a trip to Jinan hospital today and to a series of x-rays on her knees. These have to count among the strangest holiday picks ever taken and we're working out how to put them on the blog!

I could tell you about yesterday's trip to Tai mountain. I could tell you how we travelled up via bus and cable car to one of the highest status peaks in China and were told about how the tea shops and tourist gift shops are stocked by loyal employees making the 4 hour treacherous trek up the mountain every day to deliver stock because they can't afford the price of the bus ticket.

I could tell you about “University City” – a shake and bake city being built, from scratch and in one go, around a man-made lake which is being directed by Meng's Uncle.

I could tell you about Jinan's ‘modern ruins’ where the ambitions of a city governor has outstripped his resources or term of office leaving half built follies of hotels or shopping complexes scattered throughout the cities outskirts.

Since I can't work out which one to talk about then I'll just have to leave a taste of all the topics and try to regain focus for tomorrow!

Hospitality

There is much I could write about today but I feel I should share a little bit about the dining experience over here. We haven't had a light lunch since arriving in Jinan and although I suspect that we are not experiencing every day life each dining experience has been extraordinary. First of all, in each restaurant we have been given a private room. In fact most of the restaurants we have visited have only consisted of private dining rooms. The first (wedding proposal) night was conducted in a building which would have been considered large if it had manufactured airplanes. We filed past military style rows of greeters through a maze of corridors until we reached our room – a luxurious dining room with two large circular tables. The ordering was formal with us on the ‘top table’ with the senior members of the family. In spite the size of the restaurant the personal room (with its own toilet) was staffed by enthusiastic but also invisible staff who kept the circular serving wheel in the centre stocked and made sure that whenever we looked down our drink was always full.

I thought that this must be the pinnacle of dining in China but this has proved to be the norm. Every lunch and dinner we have been driven to another opulent dining experience with a dizzying array of new dishes to try. Even when we've turned up to restaurants without a booking (as we did at the Confucius temple yesterday) the service has been universally good and the food perfectly presented. Today surpassed our, now highly raised, expectations. We travelled to a mountain just outside Jinan called Tai. The views and experience of this place will have to be saved for another blog post but when we had finished we descended the mountain got into our cars and headed to a restaurant in a tea growing area of China. On this occasion, rather than a room we were given a small temple in which to dine. The restaurant consisted of a small village of traditional style Chinese buildings around courtyards with gardens and fish ponds. Along with a new array of dishes (I don't think I've seen the same dish twice since arriving) a fish bowl appeared with two live fish (each about the size of a stickleback). It was explained to us that these fish were very rare and only survived in certain conditions and altitudes that were unique to this region. The fish were then taken away and returned about 15 mins later having been cooked and ready to be eaten whole.

Then to dinner. Imagine a complex of greenhouses about twice the size of the ones at the back of Windsmore but, instead, consisting of a sort of Chinese theme park restaurant. Inside the greenhouses where gardens of cherry blossom trees, ponds with bridges and stepping stones. Each dining room was its own temple and ours was fit for an emperor with huge high backed chairs around a circular table with motorised serving wheel. Outside our dining temple was a private courtyard with gated entrance. And the food...oh the food...I'll stop before I start to dribble on to my keyboard!

Confucius says...

Confucius says life is full of obstacles when your mum is wheelchair bound because she fell into a toilet.

It's a rough translation but is amazingly accurate given our experience today. In older establishments in China ladies toilets consist of a basin in the floor. Without wishing to go into details mum slipped in such a toilet and...well...injured her knees. It was OK yesterday but today was painful to the point where we needed to use some of Meng's family's hospital contacts to order a wheel chair to allow mum to enjoy our trip to Confucius's home and the temple devoted to him.

Confucius's city is one of Chinas best kept secrets. A site of a similar importance to the Forbidden City but only really visited by native Chinese people, Qufu is off the beaten track – away from airport connections.

We felt very honoured to be there and were not taken for granted by the locals and visitors (a few of whom took photos of my dad and me – either as handsome men or western freaks – we weren't sure which). Qufu represents traditional China – the kind you see in Kung Fu movies but actually exists in a very few enclaves. The temples in Qufu were lessons in Architectural composition (if not disabled access) and I was left wishing that I could bring my students here to learn a thing or two about buildings.

And then, of course, more food and too much Chinese rice wine. I'm writing this with a growing hang-over and starting to realise the Meng's uncles are a bad influence on me.

Life and Death in Jinan

Jinan isn't a beautiful city. It seems to live in a permanent rush hour and, surrounded by mountains, in a fog of pollution. Unlike Hong Kong there is little familiar here. The city sprawls for miles in all directions and it's hard to characterise what the city is like. Parts could easily belong to a modern American or European city but as we drive through the lawless traffic jams (road markings are considered as guidelines only and a duel carriageway practically consists of at least 5 lanes) its hard to get a handle on what Jinan is. High quality yuppie flats sit next to slum tenements. Stern façaded communist government buildings sit next to flash new cathedrals to capitalism. Such is the city that Meng called home but doesn't recognise from one year to the next.

Meng's foundation is not the city but her family and we were able to meet most of them over the last two days. Her fathers family is dominated by her fathers brothers ‘the uncles’. The uncles are, Meng tells me, government men. This means that they all work in one way or another for the government or one of its subsidiary companies and that they observe Chinese traditions which respect age and seniority. During our meal we were toasted by each uncle's family in order of age and seating round our circular table – although my marriage proposal sent the system in to slight disarray as toasts began coming from all directions. In contrast Meng's mums family were ‘academics’. This means that they are all university educated professionals, mostly doctors, who only loosely observe tradition and dispense with the formalities of seating arrangements. They do however make much longer speeches – so it was a relief that we were joined by an old school friend of Meng’s who was able to translate – letting Meng off the hook for an evening. The biggest speech was made by Meng's Grandfather who had prepared a reasonably long message to Meng and I. It consisted predominantly of praise for me so I was more than happy to wait for my dinner! Translation is an issue though. None of the family from Meng’s mums generation onwards speak English and I can see their frustration (reflecting mine) that we can't talk directly together. Poor Meng has to constantly shift gear from English to Mandarin and back which is exhausting and frankly confusing for her.

Sometimes it's best to remain silent though. This morning we visited Meng's father's and grandparents’ graves with the uncles and aunts. The ceremony was a simple but beautiful one which even I could understand. We left the vestiges of Jinan behind at the gates (where three competing flower sellers aggressively competed for our custom) and on to a tranquil hill overlooking Jinan and covered in hundreds of simple tombstones. We arrived at a plot containing the graves of Meng’s father and her grandparents where the graves were carefully cleaned, flowers laid down, incense burned and a meal of cakes place on the tomb stone. We then kowtowed three times in front of each grave and descended to the base of the hill to burn fake money for these deceased family members to spend in the afterlife. The ceremony was loaded with symbolism, some of which I'm sure was lost on me but I remember being particularly moved by the preparation of the meal of cakes. Food is so important here and there are few more important rituals than preparing and sharing a meal. At lunch that day I made our toast to absent friends...and really meant it.

Real China and a High Stakes Marriage Proposal

We've arrived in real China. I can tell because most of the time I cant really tell what’s going on anymore! From touch down we were treated to a small delegation of assorted uncles, Meng’s Mum, our driver (yes we have a driver here now) and bunches of flowers. From the moment we arrived we were treated like minor royalty – surrounded by an entourage of family who, frustratingly, we (Mum, Dad and Me) couldn’t communicate with directly. We were then bussled through to our hotel and then to the most extraordinary restaurant. We were greeted by possibly 20 or more uniformed staff as we travelled a maze of corridors to our own dining room where we were carefully seated around a circular table in order of age and importance. Then between occasional mouthfuls of delicious food we were toasted by each and every family represented in the room with potent rice wine.

It may have been the wine but more likely the engagement ring in my pocket that persuaded me that now would be a good time to ask Meng to marry me. It might not have been the most romantic proposal ever made but it was certainly one with the highest stakes. It didn’t really occur to me what would happen if Meng said no. It certainly would have had an impact on our evening, not to mention the rest of the trip…oh yes and my life. But she said yes and I seemed to gain the approval of the family…for now. Seems like this really is going to be a trip of a life time.

View Karma Deficit

Our luck had to change. We've been dogged by weather forecasts of heavy rain since we arrived but, whilst its been grey and distinctly humid the rain didn’t really threatened until today.

A heavy downpour began as soon as we stepped of the boat form Kowloon and persisted for our whole stay on Hong Kong island. Hong Kong is, in essence and insane place to build anything (let alone a high density high rise city). Within mins of the rain starting the streets and corporate water features were indistinguishable as torrents of water flowed down the mountain sides. As we finally left the shelter of the covered walkways we opted to have a lunch early and entered the first café we could find. The establishment consisted, it appeared, of a gap between two buildings covered with tarpaulin which leaked in at least 4 places. We chose from a menu of approx 6 items (all variations on a theme) as the café owner shovelled water out into the street and tried in vein to mend the leaks.

Our primary destination was the Peak and we eventually made it up in the tram past increasingly luxurious apartments to arrive at the top…in a cloud. Since we arrived, and had our rooms upgraded to suites with panoramic views, we’ve been suffering a sort of view Karma deficit. Clouds and low fog have consistently stopped us enjoying views in all the normal places and we went to the Peninsula Café only to find it was closed. Today was know exception. We looked out from the Peak building through huge glazed panels that looked out on to a blank white space. To add to our dismay we were also surrounded by shops offering pictures of the views we should be seeing. We made it to the top of the building, but only for symbolic reasons. When we got to the top we found there was a £2 admission fee for the ‘viewing deck’ and were accosted by a team offering to take photos of us at the top. I had to admire their ambition and sheer nerve.

You cant have it all I guess.

The last few days has been China lite….Tomorrow its China proper. Watch this space!

Another day another 4000 Hong Kong Dollars

Things are expensive in Hong Kong but some things are worth it. Like sitting on the Pier in Kowloon drinking a beer and watching the light fade and the sky scrapers on Hong Kong island light up. Some would watch something like this with despair at the city's carbon footprint but I can’t help but look with pride that our civilisation created such an amazing spectacle.

Today was mostly about shopping or at least window shopping. My favourite was the ‘craft shop’ full of useful trinkets for about £20,000. I could easily have filled our flat with Mammoth Tusk sculptures and Jade Dragons but, given that our flat is less valuable than most of the items on sale it would have felt silly buying anything. Then the night market full of useful trinkets for about 20p. Too far in the other direction for me.

Hong Kong is a strange place. It should be remote and exotic and in many ways it is. Walking through the centre of Kowloon down Nathan Street last night felt like being in dystopian sci-fi movie.

Yet everything still feels oddly familiar. I've travelled to a few countries and, although I've often enjoyed it I've felt very British and glad to be home afterward. Even in America I felt like the Sting song “an Alien in New York”. I also don’t really like big cities – I've always though that London is a squalid place in parts – yet Hong Kong seems dirty, smelly, busy but also exciting and welcoming. Which brings me to my final point. I visited Hong Kong Uni this morning and was given strong encouragement to apply for a job and...to my surprise...I'm seriously considering it.

Arriving at Hong Kong

We’ve arrived in Hong Kong which seems currently to be completely submerged in clouds – with humidity to match.

Arriving at the airport was a largely efficient process – a little to efficient actually as a yellow blazered porter met us, collected one of our cases and lead us, at break neck speed through miles of airport corridor. Excitement and adrenalin from our impromptu workout took over as we landed, and any thoughts of jetlag were forgotten until we got to the hotel and made the mistake of sitting down as we waited for our rooms to get sorted.

View from Mum and Dads Hotel Room Window

The first impressions (from what we can see through the mist) is not only how tall the building are here but also how thin. Many of them seem to be made out of upended Stickle Bricks or single Lego pieces piled on top of each other. Oh and that things in our hotel are quite expensive. The £5 pint gave my Dad inevitable heart palpitations.

Now to get cleaned up and ready to hit the town…or at least go for a quiet stroll.

Before We Go...

This...assuming we have time to update it, will be the Blog for our (Martyn, Meng, Christine and Steve) China Trip - so that our family can follow our progress as we embark on our China adventure for the next month. 

Its the evening before our flight and a sense of excitement is setting in. We have just had 'Chinese' food by way of a sort of acclimatisation and I’ve just finished setting up the various electronic devices we will need to keep us entertained on the 14 hour trip to Hong Kong. 

 Mum is avoiding thinking about the flight and it hasn’t quite sunk for Meng that she is going home.  

I don’t think that any of us knows what to expect but I think we are going to need an early night.