The Escape

Last weekend was Qingming festival 清明节, a day to remember the ancestors where tomb sweeping and spring outings are the most popular activities.

One of the Chinese language teachers once told me about the custom of putting miniature objects on the ledge of the tombs in order for the passed away to have a more comfortable after life. Those included things like little cars, fridges and tellies; keeping my face straight at the thought of the after life being exactly like the present one, i.e totally obsessed with material acquisition, was a real struggle. So last week I asked our interpreter (a lovely guy who is currently experiencing all sort of blushing as the only man in the gynae department) about this custom. He looked at me in disbelief and mumbled ‘I don’t think so’. I wasn’t surprised. I made a bleak attempt at asking where the nearest cemetery was but the alarmed look I received made me realize that finding out for myself about the mini fridges and tellies was not worth the hassle.

I remember having dinner with the only other language student left at the end of January and him venting his frustration at not being able to get the same answer from the three language teachers who all seemed to have different opinions on everything. It gave my fellow student searching for ‘best way’ a lot of grief; that same grief I have experienced when trying to look for definitive answers in Chinese medicine. China and anything Chinese related does test my patience on a daily basis.

The Foreign Students Group (us) took advantage of this holiday to flee…not only the Enclosure but Harbin! Trepidation was in the air; we were about to leave what someone defined as the ‘armpit of China’.

The quick stop in Shenyang was packed with a visit to two lovely friends (thank you for the unexpected lush continental breakie!) and a couple of the major touristy things which were worth a visit  (the Imperial Palace and Beiling Park). For the rest, Shenyang seemed like an incredibly heavily industrialized city constellated with monstrous construction sites. I am glad it wasn’t our last stop.

Instead, our real destination was Dalian; because of the holiday period we had to compromise on the train time and go for a 2am night sleeper which meant a few hours to kill after dinner. What followed a rather lovely meal at the oldest dumpling place in the city was the encounter with two local institutions, the bai jiu 白酒 (literally translated ‘white wine’ but truth is that my uncle could make something that tastes better at the back of his garage) and the KTV (karaoke tv). Now, the combination is lethal and not one I want to repeat any time soon especially when followed by a night train with people I have only known for a month. But trust the Brits to get their best side out with a little alcoholic help.  So in a sparkly world of mirrors, lights and various props which resembled nothing of the dodgy karaoke cubicles in London Soho, we wailed away for hours and the following morning, getting off the train, we felt a bit more friendly to each other despite the pounding headaches and radioactive breaths.

A grey, cold and windy Dalian greeted us despite the Qingming festival usually marking a rise in temperature. For a place called the Chinese Riviera I was expecting blue water and idyllic settings. Instead we were never too far from some sort of ugly building being built and the omnipresent sound of human phlegm being powerfully dislodged.  It nevertheless provided respite from the urban setting of the previous months and we indeed managed to find some quiet spots. Cycling along the sea on tandem was fun especially when charging groups of Chinese strolling around, revenge time.

After a shaky start which involved almost walking into the typical tourist scam of being taken to the wrong place for a ridiculous price things started looking up. Until we chose the wrong place for dinner; unknowingly we must have walked into Gangster Land. I had heard about the feistiness of the north easterners before but I wasn’t quite ready for this type of fighting at the dinner table. Full teapots smashed on each other heads, plates and glasses flying and waitresses hiding behind us Westerners. It ended with a pool of blood on the floor and one person being driven to hospital with half an ear hanging off his head. The resigned look on the waiters’ face mopping up the battlefield hinted that he had seen it all before.

Nasty and needless to say it left a bitter taste in our mouth and no desire for food any more. And for an Italian, that is not a good way to end the day.

So…I cannot really bring myself to say that leaving the Enclosure was a pretty experience but it was certainly an eventful one. And that is China for you. Or at least for me so far. 






If you are planning a visit to Dalian,  the best time is probably around May, when the weather is milder and the city is not yet inundated with people on holiday. Dalian is a young city and has very little history so it wouldn't be my first choice where to be based. But if that is not important, it indeed seemed like a rather pleasant and clean place and certainly to be taken into consideration if you want to learn Chinese as the language I heard in the street was close enough to standard Mandarin.

Good accommodation in Dalian: Yijia Express Apartments