We arrive at Slender West Lake. It's a kind of garden carefully designed so that every few steps there is a scenic vista. The story goes that the park was owned or managed or something by a salt merchant and the park was visited by the emperor. The emperor liked the park but commented it would be better if he could see the White Tower from within it. The white tower is a famous tower in Beijing. Over the next night, the salt merchant had a miniature white tower constructed out of salt to the delight of the emperor. It was later reconstructed with proper materials. Pillars of salt are poor choices for long-term construction, as Coldplay once noted in their seminal work, "Viva la Vida." The emperor in question was Qianlong, known for having the largest harem and nearly the longest reign. He would have had the longest reign had he not resigned and passed on the post in order not to take the title from his grandfather, whom he respected.
The park is quite nice and seems unknown or unreachable by Western tourists, as I saw zero non-Chinese people. At first, I was surprised to see so many women in traditional garb getting their pictures taken until we passed the shop renting out the outfits and selling photo shoots.
The other ubiquitous guests were many groups of around 20 high school-aged kids in matching tracksuits. These were the school uniforms of what I was informed was the top high school in all of China. A field trip. I'm a little skeptical of the claim, but the others insisted it was true that the school in question had the highest standardized test scores in the country. Top school or not, the kids were all over the park. Later, each group had a large sheet of paper and seemed to be doing a collaborative watercoloring assignment.
We brought MIL's grandmother along and borrowed a wheelchair where able. There is no Chinese with Disabilities Act, and nearly nothing is designed to accommodate wheelchairs. Many places, especially historical places, have a practice where thresholds are intentionally about a foot off the ground. It's bad luck to step on the elevated threshold, as one should get over and not dwell on their problems, or something. If possible, one should avoid being disabled in China.
Fortunately, Grandmother can handle even stairs on foot given a little help, so we could navigate her around the park well enough. There's a steep and narrow bridge called the 24 Bridge because it has 24 posts and 24 maidens danced on it or something; also, it's 24 meters long. I'm not totally sure this wasn't all made up on the spot, but it's definitely called the 24 Bridge. That was on a sign in English, so it must be the case. We got Grandmother to the top of this bridge, which is maybe 2 meters wide and flat for a meter. Of course, we need to take a picture here on this high-traffic bridge. Somehow, the people around us accommodate this madness, and we get the shot.
MIL has a kind of insistent energy when traveling that drives my wife a little crazy in too high of doses. She likes to maximize every moment of a trip. Take a picture here, move on to the next place to take a picture, repeat. Even resting is done in a kind of purposeful way, explicitly to prepare for the next action. I have a rather opposite approach but appreciate that with her, we cover a lot more ground.
The sun goes down as we reach the end of the park, and it's time to head to dinner. Today is the simplest meal yet. We stop by Grandma's apartment and drop off my sister-in-law, who has a headache, and then just walk around the block, past a small group of locals just hanging out and a new conveniently located grocery store, to a hole-in-the-wall that looked from the outside as much like a restaurant as a crafts space. The walls were plain, and supplies were stored next to the tables. It's just the four of us; Grandma and Uncle left. I'm not sure how ordering worked; we're the only ones in the place, and they just start bringing out dishes to place on the lazy Susan.
If my wife wrote this, the log out would be about 60% descriptions of food. I'd write more about it, but the descriptions themselves are fairly vague. There were meatballs in a kind of brothy soup, fish in a sauce covered in a local corn, the good kind of intestines (my wife has strong feelings on this subject), the standard Chinese chicken where the meat is cut such that you must fight and nibble around bones for every bite, along with a few local vegetable dishes.
I grew up a picky eater but have gradually overcome that status and have resolved to eat almost anything my wife eats on this trip. Still, when I plucked the chicken head from the plate, I passed it over to her; she appreciates it more than I possibly can. Willingness to try anything had garnered me some goodwill among the extended family. I even tried "stinky tofu" at the FIL's grandma's place that even my wife didn't eat. I don't recommend it; it may actually be a prank, like when someone from Chicago convinces an out-of-towner to drink Malört. If it was, then they were committed to the bit, going back in for seconds. Then again, some of my city fellows swear by the terrible liquor. FIL actually liked Malört when he tried it.
After dinner, Uncle drives us back to our hotel. He talks about how he's been driving for fifty years. When he was young, delivery driving was a great career in China. The government would train you up, and there was always work. He had driven big trucks, chemicals, and during one war or the other, cannons. He was almost sent to Vietnam, but fortunately, instead, they sent him elsewhere during the war to guard against the Soviets. It seems there wasn't a lot of trust between the two countries during the time, and China feared there might be trouble.
It is insisted that we are ready to be picked up by precisely 7:15 a.m. the next morning. This won't be a problem; we've been waking up at 5 a.m. at the latest. My inclination to sleep in when able is still less powerful than the jet lag. But the reasoning—that we're going to get picked up, ride the 5 minutes to Grandma's, eat breakfast, and leave by 7:30—sounds very optimistic. We've not yet completed a meal in less than an hour and a half.
It's 7:45 the next morning; my wife is splitting our third pastry as Auntie taps a hard-boiled egg on the table to peel. There are all sorts of Chinese breakfast pastries. The fried dough sticks are my favorite and come in sweet or savory variants. Also on offer are fried balls stuffed with a sweet bean paste and covered in sesame seeds, something like hash browns but using gelatinous rice, and finally, a flaky thing meant to be eaten with congee (a type of rice soup that is the single most common breakfast offering) that I can best describe as flaky pizza crust filled with a slim layer of buttery sweet spread. The car is packed, and we leave at 8.
We drop off our bags at a downtown Nanjing hotel where we'll stay for the next three days and head to the Zhongshan Mausoleum. Or as I might call it, Mount Nanjing Government History. But first, a brief overview of recent Chinese history according to FIL:
First, the dude the whole park is named after, Sun Yat-sen, establishes the Republic of China (ROC) by uniting the people of China against the Qing dynasty. It lasted for like 4 seconds before the warlords were like, "Nah, bruh, we want to control fiefs actually," and as they had most of the military power, the nascent ROC got rocked, maybe got rocked twice, possibly three times. Sun Yat-sen then goes and establishes a military school, finds allies in Russia, the US, and all freedom-loving Chinese farmers. Then WW2 happens, and the Japanese come into the picture. Everyone hates that. There's a three-way bloodbath for a while. The ROC + commies + Americans + farmers were led by a Chiang Kai-shek. Eventually, the Japanese and warlords lose, and the major question of whether to make an American (really more British in practice) style democracy or a more Soviet-style state is the next big topic. This is resolved by "look over there!" /hand-waving motion/ oh look, the CPC runs the mainland, and the ROC runs Taiwan, and both claim to run the whole thing, great.
We board a long golf cart. Along with us is the Syracuse grad student who likes Shadow Hart, an auntie, and two younger biology grad students that I'm not sure how we're connected to.
The first stop is the home of Chiang Kai-shek, the second ROC leader. It's very Western-styled inside. There is a small chapel. His wife, a Soong sister, is Christian. There's also a small 6-person barracks in the basement. The two slept in separate beds, which was apparently common at the time for wealthy people in China.
There's a whole exhibit on the three Soong sisters. Another one married Sun Yat-sen. They were all born in China but educated in the US. All throughout the park, I'm struck by how often there are connections to America mentioned. Roughly a third of the plaques in the park have English translations on them. I still don't see any Westerners all day, but I appreciate the accommodation.
We board our golf cart again and take a break from history to visit a cherry blossom garden. We are fortunate enough to be here while they were blossoming. The blossoms are white and come down in waves whenever the wind blows. These ones were gifts from a sister city in Japan. If you've seen cherry blossoms in anime it's basically like that.
While we were taking our pictures, we learn of Syracuse grad's lady troubles as he is distracted by her texts. He's seeing but not official with a girl set up through a family friend. She has an upcoming ski trip in Japan during her birthday and is upset that he plans to give her a gift after the trip rather than before it. We pry for details and learn that she is something like a medical sales rep. We'll be introduced to her later in the week.
Back in the golf cart and next stop is the mausoleum of the first Ming emperor. I'm beginning to notice that there aren't a lot of golf carts as we zoom past gates. I'd find out later that the two grad students in the party were justifying a VIP package. Everyone in the cart besides me and FIL has or is pursuing a PhD. MIL runs a research lab, and these two grad students were potential collaborators or something, so some grant or another is paying for this ride.
There's not too much to say here; the Ming dynasty started in the 1300s and is known for simple and less ostentatious rule. The tomb itself is buried somewhere and hasn't been opened. There is or was an order of hereditary guards to protect his tomb that still live in the area today. On the way back to the VIP-mobile, we stop and get some drinks. It's almost 90 degrees out, and we could use a cool-down. The rest of the group gets ice cream, my wife opting for a corn-flavored treat. I get a Coke Zero. Syracuse informed me that in China, Coke is called "happy drink for fat people," fair enough.
Next is lunch at the Buddhist temple. It's all vegetarian "monk noodles." Basically like if those big ramen bowls from anime had spaghetti in them along with soft tofu, mushrooms, an egg, and a few other veggies. Good and pretty cheap at 28 yuan for the premium bowl.
Hunger satisfied, we check out the Buddhist temple. The first shrine is the shrine of wealth, which doubles, appropriately, as the gift shop. There's something almost pure about a literal shrine to wealth. No circumlocutions here; you want wealth? Say no more, we've got just the place for you. Also, can I interest you in little Buddha statues? Although the girl manning the register isn't doing a good job selling the merchandise, slumped over snoozing on a display.
We stopped by the fertility shrine to have a word with that Buddha in particular, left a yuan coin on the rooster shrine that represents our zodiac, and said hi to a pale white cat that Syracuse says is always napping in the same position every time he's been here. Maybe the most zen creature in the whole temple. Finally, we visit the jewel of the temple. In a cool stone cavern beneath the main shrine is a piece of the cremains (what remains after cremation) of Tang Sanzang, the main character in "Journey to the West" who traveled to India to retrieve the original Buddhist texts. The remains are stored within an intricate golden miniature structure.
Having seen enough, it's time to return to the electric chariot. There is a 9-story pagoda, essentially a Chinese tower, that we stop in to get a good view of Nanjing.
Walking up all those steps turned out to be a preview as our final destination was the mausoleum of Sun Yat-sen. It's a huge structure, and you need to walk many steps up to the tomb. The steps supposedly represent the further effort needed by the people to complete the revolution. At the top, we pick up some lemonade and waters. Hydration has been a major struggle. The Chinese seem to broadly not care for water that isn't boiled and infused with herbs. Up at the top, though, they have the rare ice-cold water. I cherish the cold liquid, reminded of home.
MIL is very impressed with the scale of the structure, noting only emperors and kings had mausoleums this grand. I can't help but think that wasn't what Yat-sen was going for. There is something about the Chinese worldview that is still hard for my American brain to grok. They speak about ROC and CPC much the same as they speak of the Ming and Qing. Yat-sen may as well have been an emperor. We're living through another era in a long history. Of course, I have a very small and biased view into the Chinese mindset.
There's an exhibit after we finish at the mausoleum going through Sun Yat-sen's life. I'm not going to tell it better than Wikipedia. We're pretty exhausted; it's been a bit of a death march.
We have one last ride to the exit and walk to a restaurant located between a small lake and the imposing wall of Nanjing. This dinner is attended by a family friend who is also the boss of someone else in the family. His kid is studying in the US, a junior in college getting ready to apply for med school. My wife advises him on the process and will probably review his son's application. We drink through the two bottles of moutai he brought. During dinner we learn that Syracuse has come to a resolution with his not quite girlfriend that after the trip is fine but she expects two gifts.
We leave the restaurant feeling good. The temperature is dropping down to tolerable levels, and we walk a short distance to a bus stop, which we take back to the hotel.
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Notes -
I wouldn't translate it like that. A simpler translation would just be Mouth Happiness, but the impressive thing about Coke's localization is that it's pronounced Ke Kou Ke Le, so they managed a name which is both phonetically accurate and still has a useful meaning. Most Western brands just go for a rough transliteration without a clear Mandarin meaning.
I'm not sure he was doing a direct translation. I think it was more what they call it. For whatever value of "they".
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