A JEWISH RENAISSANCE TRIP TO CHINA

October - November 2009 Acknowledgments

Grateful thanks are due to all those who were prepared to commit their memories to paper, thereby contributing articles to this journal.

Acknowledgment of the following art work should also be made: line illustrations by Ruth Barnett; photos by Tania Barnett, Ruth Baumberg, Jonathan Burg, Hersch Kikoler and Mimi Rolbant.

Editing and layout by Mimi Rolbant; copy editing by Susan Kikoler.

2 A Rickshaw Ride in Beijing by Ruth Barnett Monday, 19 October

After months of planning and mounting anticipation, there we were in Beijing’s ultra-modern airport at 2 a.m. British time, after a 10 hour non-stop flight. Mimi, the tour organiser, was there already to meet us and gather together our party of 23 and introduce us to Feng, our Beijing guide, and Professor Xu Xin, who was to accompany us for the whole tour and from whom we were to learn so much.

As it was 9 a.m. Chinese time and we had had breakfast on the plane, our coach took us straight to the biggest Lama Temple in Beijing, built in 1694 and used as a residence for the visiting Dalai Lama. Incense was burning in the five successive courtyards between magnificent all-wooden temples painted with intricate patterns in four colours, which we learned were gold for the emperor and the universe, blue for the heavens, green for the earth and red for happiness. Even the Beijing taxis were gold-sided with blue, green or red tops. The pièce de resistance was an 80 metre high Buddha made out of one sandal-wood tree.

Beijing traffic in five-lane, tree-lined boulevards was awe-inspiring, as were the endless, towering blocks of newly-built high-rise flats. We learned that traffic was reduced to just manageable by banning cars with certain number plates on different days of the week. Shoals of bicycles, scooters and electric bicycles overtook us at every traffic light and intersection. With remarkable ingenuity, many of the cycles had a variety of vehicles attached at the back; one elderly gent even had his missus attached behind in a wheelchair. Another cyclist was scarcely visible peeking out from a mountain of cardboard boxes piled all around him.

Not until 2 p.m., after a Chinese lunch at three round tables with revolving centres, did we book into the Marriott Hotel West. We were allowed only one hour to unpack and freshen up before the coach took us to the Temple of Heaven, built in 1420 in the reign of the Ming Emperor Yongles, about whom we were to learn so much. This temple was clearly a social meeting and recreation place, as the long, covered walk leading up to it was peopled with card players, smokers, dancers and a hubbub of cheerful chatter. Dragon kites and a multitude of other tourist knik-knaks were offered to us. It was good to a great number of tour groups of Chinese people of all ages exploring their own country.

By now the time difference and lack of sleep were taking their toll on us but we needed to keep awake and alert for further experiences awaiting us, starting with a rickshaw ride ….

Visiting the Locals by Susan Kikoler

By dusk we were all exhausted but perked up at the thought of a rickshaw ride around the Lake of Ten Temples, popular with locals in the evening, to visit a hutong. ‘Hutong’ is a Mongolian word for ‘water-well,’ since the earliest family dwellings were built around them. Today it means a labyrinth of very narrow streets, barely 6 metres across, where the locals live in traditional courtyard dwellings. We visited a family where parents (a former archaeologist and his wife), sons and daughters-in-law all had rooms off the little square 'garden' and met to eat together only on special occasions. We were told that hutong living is very cold in winter, as these courtyard dwellings are quite old and often unmodernised.

3 We were not the first foreign visitors, as Henry Kissinger had been there before, which a photo testified. We sat huddled on chairs of all shapes and sizes in the main room and tried to get our jetlagged brains into gear to find some questions to ask. The owner’s mother had bought the property in the 1950s on a 70-year lease from the government who still owned the land. No one knew what would happen when the lease expired. Apparently, such dwellings are worth a staggering 28 million yuan (£2.8 million), which is incredible. We all admired the photo of the adored granddaughter. There were a lot of smiles of goodwill and mutual incomprehension, but at least we had made contact with the locals.

The rickshaw ride back almost brought us in contact with the local hospital, as our drivers / riders steered their vehicles around, over and through a slalom of road works that threatened to capsize us at every turning. The lake was lined by the multi-coloured lights of various bars and eateries along its shores and made the scene very beautiful. Eventually we reached the sanctuary of the lakeside restaurant for dinner where, miracle of miracles, the meat eaters might have had the best food in their room but the vegetarians were much warmer in theirs. G-d does smile upon the righteous!

Early Autumn in the Summer Palace by Ruth Baumberg Tuesday, 20 October

Writing Day 2 has connotations of the biblical ring of “Vayehi erev, vayehi boker, yom sheni” but, in fact, despite being our first full day of immersion in China, this was a day of the standard tourist itinerary with no Jewish connections. However, listening to our guides and watching what was going on around us, there was plenty to think about. And we had with us for the duration our august, but approachable guide, Professor Xu Xin, who gave us different insights into Chinese culture and looked after us so well, even to the extent that he was always ready to help us down the steps of the bus and answer our often impertinent questions!

After a good night’s rest (despite many of our moans in not being able to sleep after the time zone change and accompanying jetlag) in the quite palatial Marriott Hotel West, we were loaded into our bus and set off for the Summer Palace. We were beginning to get accustomed to the huge crowds of Chinese tourists everywhere (the pleasant autumn weather is the most popular season for travelling), the persistent hawkers dogging our steps and even some beggars, which I had not thought to see in China. There was also the persistent smog, which we had heard about in connection with the Beijing Olympic Games in 2008, but I had not realised that it would be everywhere we went in every city and even noticeable at the Great Wall. But today was a blue sky day after the morning, as our pictures show. Probably the reason for the smog was the appalling traffic everywhere, the multitude of cars that had taken over to a large extent from the bicycle (though there were still more of these than in the West) and the endemic traffic jams. But everywhere was evidence of the pell mell rush to development, huge new tower blocks, vast new cities, movement and a sense of optimism as the old is swept aside in favour of the new. All of the Chinese people whom we met were optimistic about the future and clear that life was improving, whatever their privations in the past.

We walked in the classical grounds of the Summer Palace, from the traditional style buildings, constructed by the all- powerful and notorious Empress Dowager Cixi, relatively late in the 19th century, having burnt down in the Second Opium War of 1860 or, as we had to learn, in the late Qing Dynasty, to the artificial but artful lake with a vista straight from a willow pattern plate – a mist, a temple, a bridge, willow trees, and the remains of the autumnal dying lotus plants in the water. This took us into the myth of the traditional Chinese

4 past and the legitimacy of its modern present. There were gardeners with rakes tending tree peonies which were an ancient speciality of Chinese plant breeding. There was a charming scene on a promontory where a large Chinese choir of visitors assembled and sang and we drank in the beauty and wanted to linger, but we had to continue. At a view of the famous marble ship, a local Chinese group ate sweet corn off a street stall and grinned at us Westerners taking photographs of them.

After a commercial break at a pearl concession, there was a brief stop to see the new Olympic stadium, designed by the Swiss architecture firm Herzog & de Meuron with the artist Ai Weiwei as consultant, a highlight of modern architecture and shaped like a demented bird’s nest but very impressive, with vast acres of space around it. Our next stop was lunch at the Wan-Ha-Ha restaurant where we came to grips with these vast cavernous restaurants, otherwise familiar from our larger urban British Chinese restaurants, where the food, though partly familiar – chicken with lemon, sweet and sour chicken, even a bastardised version of chips, was bountiful and mostly excellent. Mostly big tourist groups were eating there, but even some of us fussy and nervous eaters in the group developed a partiality for such delicacies as Black Fungus mushrooms (which I have found available dried at 85p for a large pack in our local Leeds Chinese supermarket) and a superb, soft, lightly-spiced aubergine dish.

Next, we would see another Beijing icon of modern architecture, the National Centre for the Performing Arts (designed by French architect Paul Andreu and completed in December 2007). It is vast, ellipsoid in shape, titanium-skinned and sits in a moat on which it appears to float; it has been nicknamed “The Egg.” There was some controversy when it was built as it does not harmonise with the local architecture, but it is undoubtedly a spectacular and very popular venue.

But now the showpiece of the nation – Tian’anmen Square, and leading on from one side of it, the gates to the Forbidden City. Imagine Trafalgar Square, The Mall and Buckingham Palace crowded with mostly locals. The spiel about the Square, as our guide described it, forbore to mention the one reason Tian’anmen Square is known in the West – the 1989 pro-Democracy demonstrations. But omissions of that kind are perhaps understandable – events need to be firmly in the past before we feel able to confront our ghosts – look at the many exhibitions and museums of slavery recently opened in the UK. There were many people in the Square, which is huge, and apart from the prominent red and yellow pillars (representing the 56 ethnic groups in China) and the giant screens showing things I do not remember, pretty empty. Apart from a small police vehicle (which I covertly photographed), and the portrait of Mao on the Forbidden City gateway against which the photographers posed their tourist customers, there was little of interest to see. One might regret the wholesale clearance of an old neighbourhood which the Communists swept away in order to produce this emptiness. But to the Chinese, as to the Americans, size is all, and it certainly was a vast space.

The Forbidden City, in contrast, was full of interest. A huge area of historic Chinese buildings started in 1420 and a symbol of imperial rule and the might of the old Chinese State, to which the current regime likes to consider itself heir. Now with vast crowds of Chinese tourists, mostly in vociferous groups, each with a flag and some with caps to readily identify their members. It was quite hard to keep up with our guide and I am afraid that I didn’t listen to all the historic information to which we were treated, but enjoyed it as a vast, colourful and enjoyable spectacle. All the buildings had been repainted (and in any case, being wood, had been constantly restored) for the Beijing Olympics and were vivid in their primary colours. In general we found the crowds friendly everywhere and people smiled at us and the children, all in their one-child families, were universally charming and obviously well-loved.

5 After an early dinner at the Rainbow Hotel restaurant this time, and some hassling by the hawkers and beggars as we waited, we got on our bus to be transported back to our luxurious hotel. We passed Tian’anmen Square, shut to the public after nightfall and patrolled only by police and security guards; still a chilling reminder and an obvious symbol of potential resistance. A good day with many questions to be pondered and an introduction to a vibrant, ancient and modern culture.

To the Countryside: the Wall and the Tombs by Ruth Baumberg Wednesday, 21 October

A blue day for our trip to the Great Wall and our first glimpse of the Chinese countryside, despite the still- persistent smog over Beijing, visible even from the wall itself. We were loaded onto our tour bus early, as for all our sightseeing in China and, negotiating the vast outskirts of Beijing, we were finally in a bucolic scene of fruit orchards, mainly apple ripening visibly on the trees, but some peach, occasional vineyards, sheep and a few patches of rather dried-up maize. Alongside the road were frequent pyramidal piles of red-cheeked apples beside locals trying to sell them, but sadly we could not stop. Finally the hills came up, not the strange shaped hills of Chinese art, but brown, wooded hills rather than high mountains, and we had arrived at Mutianyu, the tourist settlement at the foot of the Great Wall, which we could see on top of the hills around and receding into the distance. It reminded me of the poem, Kubla Khan, “so twice five miles of fertile ground With walls and towers were girdled round.” We fought our way up past the sales stalls and concessions; the dried fruit and nut stalls were attractive, beyond those were the usual souvenir stands. And then we were released with our tickets for the cable car which would take us up the hill to the wall and we had a couple of hours to take it all in.

Everyone was rather breathless in wonderment at the top, watching the walls and watchtowers and mountains stretching away into the distance, and we were all taking the requisite tourist pictures (similar to those not much later of President Obama at the same place). We saw two-compartment litter bins like dog kennels, with one half for recyclables, which were amusing and evidence of China’s efforts to be seen to be taking the environment seriously. The trees had russet autumn colours, which added extra charm, and the crowds at the top dispersed quite rapidly as we ventured as far as we dared in the time available. It was hard to take in that this wall was originally over two thousand years old, but most of it had been reconstructed in the Qin Dynasty to keep out the Mongol tribes to the north and also the Manchu invasions of the 17th century; it has been repaired recently to ensure tourist safety. It reminded me of Hadrian’s Wall, again built to keep out marauding northern tribes! It would be good at some time to be able to complete a longer walk on a circular route, so that we could experience more of the atmosphere and feel of the mountains and the Chinese past which the wall represented.

Finally loaded back into our bus, we had another commercial stop at a cloisonné factory and shop and then it was lunch,

6 which was good. The afternoon was devoted to the Ming Tombs of 13 of the ancient Ming emperors, which were set in a beautiful bowl close to the mountains with romantic tree-clad hills around and distant views of more mountains. The pollution here lent a romantic air to the distant hills and coloured well in the fading light. The tombs were not actually open, as only one had been excavated and fallen prey to ransacking during the Cultural Revolution, but there was a wooden hall with interesting exhibits and the usual courtyards and temples, plus a viewing point to see the surrounding countryside.

Afterwards we had another brief walk down the Spirit Way with strange, ancient Chinese stone sculptures of emperors, elephants, mythical animals and officers, along a plain, grassy- sided walkway lit by the late afternoon sun which provided yet more atmosphere. I wish that we had more of an entrée to the intricacies of Chinese art, as we could see these only with a Westerner’s view, which I am sure was only a superficial appreciation of this extraordinary cultural heritage. The ceramics in China, which I have long loved, were really the only area where I felt a kinship and enthusiasm, as they have been appreciated for hundreds of years in Europe, from the time of blue and white porcelain exported to the West. And the earlier celadon wares were a major inspiration for the studio pottery movement in England in the 1920s.

After another trial by Beijing traffic (I’ll never complain about the rush hour in Leeds again), we were fed and deposited for another famous cultural manifestation of China – the Peking Opera. It was enjoyable, both the mime aspect and the athleticism of the players made for an engrossing, if somewhat mysterious, spectacle but again the music was difficult to understand. However, the costumes and masks appealed directly to the senses and we all enjoyed the performance hugely.

So we ended yet another day of impressions and sights to be slotted into the tapestry of our two weeks in China.

If it’s Thursday, it’s Tianjin by Susan Kikoler Thursday, 22 October

Heavy colds had depleted the group that made the two-hour journey, along a road lined with silver-birch, willows and red Sumac, to Tianjin, the “Port of Heaven,” where Harbin Jews had once sent furs for export to Europe and the USA.

Entering Tianjin, through landscaped residential districts – with even a Tesco supermarket – and a downtown skyline peaked with construction cranes and prestige skyscrapers, we crossed a bridge adorned with 1,181 lions, symbolising authority and peace, towards our first stop – the Ancient Culture Street, rebuilt on the site of a 600-year old handicraft market and, at first sight, disappointingly like any other tacky, plastic Chinatown. Then we turned left.

A narrow street, festooned with traditional shop-banners, swarmed with crowds of Chinese jostling around shops specialising in calligraphy brushes, teapots, swords, lucky charms, paintings, scrolls, gourds, Mao memorabilia, musical instruments and the crafts for which Tianjin is famous – New Year paintings (often of a young boy holding a fish – ‘Yu’ also meaning prosperity and riches), ceramic figures and kites.

7 Bells sounded at the Buddhist Temple where incense burned to the Goddess of the Sea (she who had waited in vain for her fisherman lover to return). Oh for a tape-recorder to capture such cacophony! For once the time for shopping just wasn’t enough.

Lunch in a hotel established by Aerboter Kiessling in 1901 took us back to Tianjin’s Russian past. Cabbage borscht, pickled cucumbers, potato salad, fish and chips or steak in pepper sauce, plus bread with butter and jam, were all deposited in front of us. Salad was brought, then mysteriously taken away and finally brought back to the table. Tania selflessly sampled every dish before her in an attempt to win the accolade of official food taster. We found it all extremely funny, despite not having enough time to eat much of the food. The serving staff were also bemused, we noticed.

A bevy of brides outside the European-style Concert Hall greeted us as we began to explore the old Concession area. Jews had first settled in Tianjin in the 1860s but most had come much later. The Tianjin Hebrew Association had been established in 1903, finally disbanding in 1953. Little remains of that past, except the old school building and the former Shul which sit in what used to be the Jewish quarter. The synagogue, with its stained-glass Menorah and faint Hebrew lettering on the façade, is being renovated by a Sino-French organisation in order to preserve it as a reminder of Tienjin’s Jewish community. The interior has been completely gutted, so we found it difficult to get a sense of it as a former synagogue.

More outrageous decoration awaited us at “The China House” – part Gaudi frenzy, part “Antiques Road Show” – magnificent in its megalomaniacal bad taste. Bought by a Chinese entrepreneur and animal conservationist, this 100- year old French-style mansion is decorated with over 30 million shards of porcelain and 20 tons of natural crystal – and still isn’t finished after seven years of work! Inside, as if hiding from the exterior excesses, nestle precious antiques – a wooden tablet belonging to the last emperor, a temple gateway 800-years old and beautiful Yuan Dynasty table and chairs.

Back in Beijing, dinner was at Dini’s Kosher restaurant tucked away in a colonial- style gated community – hard to find but well worth the effort. Welcomed by the Chabad Rabbi and his family, we all relaxed. Colds and tiredness melted away in the heimische warmth. At a long L-shaped table we supped and savoured the most succulent selection of delights that any Chinese Bubbe could ever make, including the fiercest-looking fried fish imaginable. From the Dim Sum to the dessert, it was one of the most memorably mouth-watering meals ever.

PS Must ask Professor Xu - how do you say "Ess, ess, mein kind" in Chinese?

Shabbos in Little Moscow by Sylvia Budd Friday, 23 October

On Friday, 23rd October, we said an early morning farewell to the Marriot, our temporary and very comfortable ‘home’ in Beijing, and set out on the next leg of our journey to Harbin. On the way to the airport, members of the group gave their impressions of Beijing, noting in particular the amazing road system, how very clean and tidy everywhere was and how there were many more trees than expected. We also commented on the terrible traffic jams and the pollution. Once we had taken off and were in the air, I turned my thoughts to this most northerly city on our itinerary, wondering if it would be very different from Beijing. I was lucky enough to have a window seat and looked out as we flew over brown, barren mountains and later a snowy landscape. As we approached Harbin the landscape became flat and agricultural, with small clusters of houses and several rivers.

8 As we drove for about an hour into the city we could see that, compared with Beijing, it looked more ‘provincial’ and the roads were rather less good. Our first port of call was the Jewish cemetery which is actually the Jewish section of a large municipal cemetery. The cemetery had been moved to this location in 1953 and while some headstones were removed from the old cemetery, some new stones were put in place then. The last Jewish burial took place here in 1963. There are some 800 graves (originally 3,000 but not all were moved here) and about 600 headstones. By then it was mid-afternoon and getting chilly, but the light was still good enough to see the headstones.

Professor Xu Xin showed us around and introduced us to some of the characters, including members of the Kaufman and Olmert families, who had played an important part in the history of Jewish Harbin and of whom we were to hear more over the next two days. We also saw the grave of Rabbi Kisilev who had served the community for 36 years.

Walking around that cemetery and looking at the headstones with their inscriptions in Cyrillic and Hebrew, we felt as if we were in Russia rather than China and could well understand why Harbin was at one time known as “little Moscow.” There was a fine, large prayer-house on the site, with a domed roof topped with a Magen David but, when we peeped inside, sadly it was totally abandoned and empty.

It was then time to go to our new hotel, and if we thought we had left luxury behind in Beijing, we were wrong! We entered a huge marble foyer and went up to a large room with all mod-cons overlooking a huge plaza and the Songhua River. We had our Friday night dinner in the hotel (goodness knows what the staff made of the candle lighting) and afterwards we wrapped up well and went for a very pleasant, although slightly chilly, stroll along the riverside walk. All in all, it was a very enjoyable introduction to Harbin, leaving us looking forward to the next two days when we would learn much more about the Jews and their legacy to Harbin.

Tania and the Tiger by Alan and Brenda Nathan Saturday, 24 October

The European breakfast buffet didn’t look too good, so (Alan) has Chinese breakfast – noodles, wonton, vegs, including runner beans with scrambled egg. Very good.

After breakfast we go on a walking tour of the central area of Harbin. Several buildings date from the early years of the 20th century, mostly with heavy Russian influence. Some of them were Jewish built or had Jewish connections. The Professor tells us something of the Jewish community in Harbin. They came to the town in the late 1890s to escape Russian persecution and followed trading and commercial opportunities created by the building of a railway across the province by the Russians, a concession of land given to them by the Chinese. The Jewish population grew to about 20,000 by the mid-1930s, but had ceased to exist by the mid-50s, most emigrating to

9 Israel. The last Jew in Harbin died in 1985 in a Jewish residential home that was funded to the end.

We see two Jewish hospitals, one of which is now an eye hospital, and the Jewish Middle School which is still a school, but now for ethnic North Korean Chinese. It still has Jewish architectural features, including Torah scroll-shaped corners on the exterior and Magen David motifs in the interior decoration. We also visit the old synagogue (called the Main Synagogue) – now a hostel. Also in Central Street were the Jewish bank and many Jewish shops, a department store, all testament to a once thriving community. We were told that the very first cinema in China was established in Harbin by Jews.

Our group has become a tourist attraction. Groups of Europeans must be very rare here and people point us out as we pass, and some even tag onto the group for a while, listening to the Professor's explanations - whether they understand what he’s saying is doubtful. The locals seem to be very happy to be photographed by our group, particularly their kids, and the parents line the kids up in front of our cameras, instructing them to smile or strike a suitable cute pose.

We go for lunch at the Modern Hotel, founded in 1903 by a Jew called Joseph Caspé. The founder’s son was kidnapped by a Russian/ Japanese gang and held for ransom. The father was advised by the police not to pay and the son was eventually murdered. Magnificent hotel interior. Lunch basically the same as the previous 8 or 9 meals, with no dessert of any kind, but food good.

Our scheduled boat trip on the Songhua River is cancelled due to its very low level (it has been very dry in China this year). We go instead to the Manchurian (aka Siberian or North East) Tiger Reserve (additional fee as not scheduled in the original itinerary), where these endangered animals are being kept and bred. Beautiful, sleek and powerful creatures, but looking a bit bored. As we got there just before closing time, many animals had been locked away for the night, so we didn’t see all that we might have. However, there was a hilarious moment when Tania got too close to the wire fence and the tiger below suddenly lurched up at her. Poor Tania jumped back in shock and fright, then we all laughed and even she saw the funny side of it. The tiger reserve is on Sun Island, which used to be a summer retreat for the Russians but we didn’t have the opportunity to see their villas as it was already getting dark.

Dinner was the same yet again and no dessert – Chinese food beginning to become a bit too much of a good thing. In the afternoon, after return from the tiger reserve, we searched desperately for chocolate or something sweet to eat. Fearful of eating anything from the many food and fruit stalls, we go to Walmart (yes, there are many American and British stores in China) in the shopping precinct nearby the hotel. An absolutely massive store, but we couldn’t find what we were seeking. We didn’t look properly due to time shortage, but saw Cadbury’s Dairy Milk bars in bins between the up and down escalators as we went down from first floor. We were too slow to grab some; in any case the queues to pay were enormous.

We can’t help but be struck by how happy and relaxed the people seem to be. They don’t look as if they feel they are missing anything by not having what we call democratic rights. We’re struck by the amount of US influence – MacDonalds, KFC, Pizza Hut are everywhere, plus Walmart (there’s a Tesco in Tianjin), all the designer brands and shops, etc. We see the largest selection of women’s boots we’ve ever seen (there must have been at least 100 styles and quite expensive even by British standards) in a department store called Parkson, in the precinct by the hotel.

10 A Tale of Two Cities: Harbin and Xi’an by Jonathan Burg Sunday, 25 October

Memories of the next three days even now are both clear as day and hazy as a Chinese dawn. Leaving Harbin, we bid farewell to the Songhua River, and learn a few new words on the bus including bin piyu (cold beer), a phrase of great utility over the remaining days of the trip. It is hazy this morning.

Our first stop out is to the San Sebastian Church, which could have been transplanted from St Petersburg, with its ornate, grandiose Russian Orthodox style. Meanwhile the Sofia Church has been turned into a museum, being rebuilt in 1932, from wood to brick, no doubt with gift shop and a retinue of eager assistants.

Our guide gives us a potted lesson in railroad history, which some of us found a helpful recap from the occasionally disjointed commentary about the coming of the rails to Harbin – it’s a lot to take in. After the (big, bad) West cut China off from the sea, in 1858-60, the Qing government ceded over 1 million sq. km and, following war with Japan, settled on an arranged “peace.” The key lines, North- South Indo-Russian and East-West Trans-Siberian, form a T shape, with Harbin at the junction, so the city became a natural stopping point and development followed quickly, until it was the most important city in north-east China. In 1896 treaties to build the Chinese railroad were signed and trade, as well as some previously foreign customs, came to China with the new railroads.

By 1902 the community had grown to 3,500, with the first (“Old”) synagogue built in 1907 as the population swelled to 5,000 due to Russian veterans deciding to stay in Harbin after the Russo-Japanese War. The community nearly doubled in the next five years, reaching 15,000 during 1915-18, with a large transient demographic. A cemetery and social centre were also constructed. Power changed hands from Russian to Japanese, following their invasion in 1931 and the community declined to 10,000.

Life during the Japanese invasion was a combination of disdain and reverence, under a nominal Chinese puppet emperor. Japanese attitudes had been formed through prejudice and self-interest, following Schiff’s funding of the loan which enabled Japan to modernise its navy and win the Russo-Japanese war in 1904. Around 5,000 Ashkenazi Russian Jews migrated, mainly to Shanghai, in 1935, which doubled its own previously Sephardic community. Harbin had become a hub for international trade and opened as a source of cultural influence, with the music and cinema both new in China.

Post-war, the territory was occupied by Soviet Russian forces and finally the Chinese returned. Jewish community leaders had been sent to Siberia and many families left for Israel or returned to the Soviet Union. Once China regained control, just 1,000 Jews remained, declining rapidly to 150 in the 1950s, as official policy discouraged foreign residents – and Soviet pressure complicated the granting of Exit Visas until Singaporean pressure in 1956 reported the cause to Zhou Enlai, who then “looked into” the issue – and Jews were permitted to leave via Hong Kong and South America. By the mid-1960s only a few elderly remained to experience the Cultural Revolution first-hand. Other communities returned to China, but not that of Harbin.

Beer in Harbin is good, with the first bar in China opening in 1900. This held a personal interest for our tour leader, Mimi, as her antecedent Mr Kaufman established the family’s brewing business. Our guide suggests Harbin is one of the top three beer-drinking cities in the world, although I strongly suspect this is more about national pride than pints drunk; the 9 second/pint record is nevertheless impressive. Other Russian habits, which include sausages, ice cream, fur, minks and (for younger women) mini-skirts, are commonplace. In this chic town, extreme cold is almost incidental.

The town itself developed along European lines, with Russian immigrants forming a vital component of the city. Central

11 Avenue, the main street, had the first cinemas for Russians (1902 and 1935) and the largest ski centre in Far East just (!) 200 km from the city. The city held the 2008 student winter Olympics.

Outside the Church we could hear disco music as the locals congregated playing, dancing and performing, with a very serious game of softball tennis, as graceful as dance, with silent racquets. Tania gamely joined in the fun. Meanwhile a speaker blared Wham’s “Wake me up before you go-go.” Just another Sunday morning.

We tour the 1918 New Synagogue, which is now a most impressive museum of Harbin Jewish life. This is a high point of the tour, as it captures a unique history of the community, with a broad cultural, sporting, social and religious life. A community centre serviced the remnants of the once strong Jewish population until 1960, and the community peaked at up to 20,000. This is a fantastic exhibition, with photographic social history lovingly researched, preserved and displayed by the University of Heilongjiang Social Science department. It’s an insight into an entirely functional community, exhibiting internal cohesion, external relationships with Imperial and Revolutionary China, sporting associations, cultural interchange and even Zionist activism with a Revisionist affiliation to Beitar. It was telling to see a modern Chinese museum proudly displaying the Beitar and Trumpeldor memorabilia, evidence of a tolerated national minority in revolutionary China’s midst. Leading figures played military roles, including a senior medical officer, with a long column of photographs showing Chinese leaders from Mao to Deng, visiting the veterans for many decades subsequent.

Overall the communal life is almost a world forgotten – a minority within a Russian minority, living in a specific context which came to an end with the Soviet invasion and dominance of bordering minorities. Cultural life flourished, with European opera stars and actors travelling all the way to this remote oasis of Russian-Jewish life, for recitals, concerts and teaching. Maccabi sports events and Beitar camps encouraged the younger members to affiliate with Israel and over 500 volunteered to fight for Israel in 1948, albeit arriving too late to see action. Secular, Zionist and Yiddish writing was prolific in this post-emancipation community, repressed by the Soviets in 1945.

Leaving the synagogue, we pass by the former Jewish soup kitchen on our way to the coach. Heading for the airport, our city guide, Eric, tells us enthusiastically about the 100,000 people who visit in early January for the Ice Festival, with group weddings in Sun Island park, and tells us a little more of the local gift culture – noodles for a long relationship, chopsticks for fertility, and leeks for intelligent children. He reads, and then sings a small poem he has composed, and we all feel a little sad to be leaving this outpost of China with its close associations for some members of the group.

At the airport, bear-gall wine costs 238 Yuan (about £23) a bottle. I dare not ask.

Later that day, arriving in Xi’an, our new guide is Lo-Pin, or “Robin.” He’s chatty, jokey and much more cosmopolitan, lacking Eric’s small-town charm but comes with a sharp, cynical wit. His goals include a Chelsea tractor and an Oxbridge degree, perhaps not in that order. Our driver is Mr Mung and he does not say much. On the way in, we’re subjected to the usual “best province” patter which is so typical for each area. Shaanxi province, it seems, is the shape of the UK, 1,000 km high x 360 km wide, with three distinct regions. The north includes many natural resources and is a moneyed area with large mining interests, known as the “Red Cheeks” area and the “Trophy Wife Zone” – older men and younger women are usually not fathers and daughters! The centre is temperate, agricultural and industrial, deforested, hotter and experiencing a dust bowl effect. The south is lower altitude, with rice an important crop.

Over 37 million people live here and, with Indonesian a common second language, residents can interact with over half the world’s

12 population. Xi’an was a historic capital city, with an emphasis on hot springs, and we make our way at a leisurely pace to the city centre. It is quite shocking to feel the difference from Harbin – Xi’an is bustling, busy and much less provincial. The city walls are decked in neon and the shops and markets could easily be Paris or Tel Aviv.

Shaanxi has experienced socio-economic reform, as a test of market principles, lower taxation and foreign capital. Being near the sea, it is an ideal location for this grand experiment driven by the centre, and this masks a 5,000-year old history. Xi’an’s importance predates Beijing’s, with over 1,100 years as a capital, serving 73 emperors, and really known as the birthplace and cradle of Chinese civilisation: 90% of trade routes to the west pass through Xi’an.

Human artefacts are said to date far into the past millennia, with a matriarchal and polyandrous village society approximately 7,000 years ago, and skulls carbon-dated at 200,000 years. Robin suggests that Xi’an will be comfortable. Men regained dominance about 5,000 years ago and Robin seems happy about this – he’s quite the social conservative: he tells us that Mao’s saying, “women hold half of our sky,” is an understatement. Thirteen main dynasties ruled here and Robin launches into a detailed overview from Bronze Age to present day, telling us how the Qin Dynasty’s first emperor Qin Shuhan (approx. 720 BCE) built the Great Wall and the terracotta warriors, and unified China. His impact is as important as Julius Caesar’s in Rome and he too was a tyrant. More detail is promised tomorrow as “Chinese Whisper” (stories not generally in guidebooks).

The third, Han Dynasty, is also important, with peaceful and progressive elements constructing the Silk Road, opening China to world trade and developing technologies of gunpowder, paper (185 BCE), compass and printing. Marco Polo noted paper and coal, the latter cause for the “Red Apple Cheeks” nickname for northern, moneyed coal miners. The Silk Road crosses the second largest desert in the world, allowing flow of goods between China, Africa, India and Europe. Material goods changed hands - silk and porcelain for Arabian horses, grapes, walnuts and pomegranates. So too did Philosophy, with Buddhism introduced in 100 AD and displacing Daoism, the mainstay of the previous millennium.

Three hundred and fifty years of division of China during the Tang Dynasty, 618-907 AD, was a powerful time in Chinese history, with a multi- cultural Xi’an hosting embassies, reaching a population of 7 million and housing its own Forbidden City over five times as large as Beijing’s. The first empress ruled here – Wu Za Tien, who outlawed foot binding during her reign.

Visually the city seems like any northern British town, as we pass through clearly working class outskirts. The centre is spectacularly walled; historically the mosques, shops and offices were lining the walls. We can see prices displayed for the first time on billboards: American-style advertising is everywhere, with European and Japanese brands. Xi’an apparently hosts China’s Eastern mission control for satellites and hosts 74 universities, with martial arts (for security) accompanying the more academic law, music and engineering schools. Xi’an has its long main streets to each direction of the compass with the grand Bell Tower at the busiest intersection. The central walls and moat are lit, with ramparts 120 metres apart, to support arrows with a 60 metres range from each side. The South Gate is a huge junction, which was where Clinton entered the city. Romantic weather or “Liquid Sunshine” is predicted (22 degrees C with a bit of a drizzle).

Xi’an seems to be much more accessible than Beijing for a Westerner; its central pagoda and pedestrian mall area, well appointed hotels and buildings and refined, simpler food, is easier to get on with. For dinner we are served dishes of butternut squash, excellent fish, courgettes and corn soup and bin piyu or cold beer.

13 Goosing around in Lovely Xi’an by Jonathan Burg Monday, 26 October

We visit the Shaanxi History Museum – world-class, this is a stunning array of artefacts and artwork from the key dynasties in China’s opening, and closure, showing the development of abstract art, and eventual self-imposed isolation, from martial, expansionist phases through economic and philosophical flourishing and on to retreat from the rest of the world. I’m captivated by some of the metalwork dragons and the fiery realism and pragmatic, life- like sculptures.

After a 45-minute drive through Xi’an’s working class districts, we arrive at a government guaranteed concession for jade carving. This is one of many such concessions, some of which are more rewarding than others. We’re shown different kinds of jade and instructed in how plasticity, translucence, colour, texture and workmanship detail are all factors in jade valuations.

Afterwards we see the Great Wild Goose Pagoda, representative of Tang dynasty syncretism of religion and politics. Our guide is not pro-Buddhist, suggesting the critique that Buddhism lowers the aspirations of the poor. With a 19% Buddhist population, Mao’s attempts to stamp out the religion failed, albeit inner thought survived in better shape than external rituals. The temple is a relic from 652 AD, affected by an earthquake, but can still be climbed. The building remains surrounded by Tang architecture, with typical black double-roof pagodas.

The first monk is said to have walked to India and, after 17 years, came back to China with Buddhist books from the Sakhemuni / Siddartha’s text in Sanskrit, which, by imperial decree, were translated by him into Chinese, over a further four years. The story details the supposed 2- year pregnancy of Buddha’s mother, his enlightenment, and his mission to teach thought and the power of sharing. The temple is fascinating, with bored priests taking gifts, perking up occasionally for the better ones, and preparation everywhere for a TV ceremony the following day.

Outside the temple we’re captivated by a toddler gleefully posing with her kites, capturing all with her winning smiles. Dinner that evening is at a vegetarian Buddhist restaurant with very good soya / seitan meat- substitutes.

Finally we tour the Muslim Quarter at night – walking as a disparate group. Hundreds of vendors offer tea, china, clothing, spices and foods. It’s very colourful and exciting, with bargaining “to cut off at the knees” or to start at 25% of the stated price. It’s a cacophony of young and old, brilliant colours, constant buzzing of e-bikes and motor vehicles. Narrow alleys are packed with vendors of all shapes, sizes and types.

14 The Stationary Clay Army by Jonathan Burg Tuesday, 27 October

A very early 8 a.m. start. Robin is pleased to tell us that we are bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and he’s not referring to dinner. We see skyscrapers being constructed, hybrid pagoda / tower block architecture, many decorated buildings and brownstone. Our first stop of the day is to the fabulous Terracotta Warriors, constructed by the first Qin emperor, 259-210 BCE. At the age of 8, the boy prince discerned murder was bad and expansion good, and that the difference between a conqueror who kills millions and a murderer who kills a few is the ability to change minds. His father thought him strange, trained him in military science and at the age of 10 asked him, “When I leave, what will you do?” To which the adept prince replied, “You will never die but, if the day comes, I will lead us to the biggest and most powerful nation.”

He is reputed to have begun construction of his own tomb at 14, a year after being titled Crown Prince. The tomb, spanning up to 66 sq. km, took 72,000 people 38 years to build and was still not finished a year after his death. At 22 he took power from his father who abdicated; started a campaign of foreign wars and co- development with distant powers, eliminating buffer nations; his strategies manipulated his opponents into dissipating their own energy before moving in to take victory. At 39 the emperor had conquered and unified China , already two-thirds its modern size. He died at age 49 from plague carried by rats. One-third of the GDP was expended on the Great Wall, and 50,000 slaves with a 70% death rate were deployed. Half the builders of the mausoleum died. Palaces were built in vassal states to symbolise central control. With thousands of rooms, the emperor moved each night, avoiding four assassination attempts. Following his death, peasant revolts burned cities for over three months.

The warriors were found c. 1974 by local farmers, who unearthed fragments and bricks, tiles and reusable shards. The “Earth Gods” were soon uncovered, and the locals started to break them to “release spells.” The China Daily reported the matter to the Governor and to Central Government who sent in the army and archaeologists. The news electrified China, as the tombs had remained hidden all this time, due to obscure records. The warriors paint fades on exposure to air, so the site has been roofed, and conditions are tightly controlled. There are 6000 warriors estimated in Pit 1, 2000 in Pits 2 and 3. Over 60 Pits are sonar- imaged at the site, and after 30 years and unearthing just 1% of the population of earthen soldiers, work is “just starting” on the recovery programme. The tomb remains in the centre of the formations and three Chinese ministries are responsible for the site.

The pit is truly stunning. Each of the warriors is unique, some clearly are in company of friends, others exhibiting individual characteristics which suggest live studies. The secret of the terracotta army was kept by the elimination of the human labourers who were buried alive, which can be determined from the position of the (fewer) corpses unearthed at the site. The Emperor used similar techniques to repress and purge Chinese scholars, subsequent to the Imperial standardisation of measures and coinage.

The tomb itself is by the side of the mountain, symbolising living (outside) and dead (inside). The north slope and south bank are reserved for the dead as there is less sunlight, and an artificial burial hill (mound) has been raised 371 metres high, with the river as a natural boundary. The easterly direction is open to enemies' approach, and the terracotta warriors face this possible threat to the Emperor’s final position. A relief map of China’s rivers is filled with mercury, and spiked; poison traps await intruders. A jade mine’s produce provides an underground constellation and tomb lamps were buried, perhaps to create a vacuum. The tomb will not be opened in a hurry. Legend has it the Emperor demanded 1,000 real soldiers to be buried alive, and the PM suggested terracotta as “better than real." The realism of the statues is necessary for the “transfer of souls” from live warriors to earthen replicas, who would then last 100 years. No two warriors’ uniforms, faces or features are identical, in any of the massed formations. UNESCO classify this as the eighth wonder of the world. The fabric of the warriors is clay, dug from unfarmed land, with spring water, created in sections and using very slow oven firing for 3-7 days, then painting and lacquering applied. The Emperor abolished ritual human sacrifice, but sacrifice is evident everywhere in this massive installation.

15 Musicians (real), labourers and their horses, and warriors are co-residents of this mammoth installation.

Nothing can prepare you for the wonder and astonishment of seeing the pit at the museum, with rows and rows of the Pit 1 troops, unseeing, in formation, going nowhere. The chariot rooms and coloured photographs of remains show a level of detail well in excess of simply reasonable facsimiles. Meanwhile Chinese visitors climb the mound – at least to have walked on top of an emperor.

[ Before we return to the city we are taken on an unscheduled visit to the Tang Dynasty Art Museum where we are briefly introduced to various styles of Chinese drawing and painting by the director, Lei Ling. On the walls are some fine old specimens and we admire the artistry, without totally comprehending the technique or the significance of the works. Not for the first time, we realise that the Chinese aesthetic is so different to ours, but being exposed to it is what makes this trip so special. Ed. ]

In the afternoon, we walk on Xi’an’s old ramparts and it is great fun to pose by the walls, overlooking the city and its massed old-style houses, modern blocks and the central business district. Cannon adorn the ramparts, and unforgiving Chinese steps, singularly uneven, serve us enough to ascend and descend as one might have done while serving in the city’s defence.

[ Later we visit the Great Mosque in the Muslim quarter to get an idea of how the synagogue in Kaifeng would have looked. Both were designed along the lines of a traditional Chinese temple. However, the mosque dates back only to the mid-18th century, so was built much, much later than the synagogue. We do not go into the prayer hall as entrance to non-Muslims is not allowed. We enjoy wandering around the courtyard gardens, seeing the wooden archways and a pavilion with a three-layered roof.

Close by, and also in the Muslim quarter, is the Gao Family Courtyard, a beautiful villa built in brick and wood with 86 rooms. It is the former residence of Gao Yue Song who was born more than 200 years ago and, after passing the imperial exams, obtained a position in the royal palace, as did a further six generations of his family. The house was confiscated by the government in 1966 but has since opened to the public; the rooms with their antique furniture and various courtyards evoke the award-winning film “Raise the Red Lantern,” directed by Zhang Yimou in 1991, although it wasn’t filmed here. As we arrived after dusk, the red lanterns in the courtyards were already lit, making the place so atmospheric and photogenic. One got a palpable sense of the past here. Ed. ]

16 In the evening we attend a Tang Dynasty show at the same theatre where we had eaten lunch earlier, when we had seen fresh, handmade noodles being made. The restaurant part has been transformed into a theatre, and a spectacle of colour, with some slightly ear-pearcing music, awaits us. This seems to me to be much more enjoyable than the Beijing Peking Opera. While sharing much of the circus and acrobatic elements, it is much more musical, with spectacular costume and lighting, and musicians on original instruments. So much so, that photography, although permitted, is near-impossible and I doubt even a professionally made recording can do this spectacle justice.

Kaifeng: Ancient Seat of Chinese Jewry by Sidney Budd Wednesday, 28 October

Emerging into the sunlight at Zhengzhou, capital of Henan province in the centre of China, we reflected on the events of the previous twelve hours that had been spent on the sleeper train from Xi’an, although “sleep” had been, to a number of our party, a state ardently desired but not attained. Sylvia and I were more fortunate in that on three previous occasions we had been obliged to travel on Indian sleeper trains, so we had acquired some resistance to this sort of travel insomnia.

Any lingering tiredness was dispelled by the task of getting out of Zhengzhou railway station, the route appearing to consist of endless flights of steps. But then, here we were in this bustling city of some seven million people, moving towards our coach which was to take us along a ten-lane motorway to Kaifeng, about an hour’s journey away. Our arrival at the splendid New Century Hotel was in good time for breakfast, but rather early for checking in, so after breakfast it was back to the coach for the business of the day. This primarily concerned the search into the Jewish past of Kaifeng and into the past of Judaism, by staff and students of Henan University.

For nearly a thousand years, until the 19th century, Kaifeng had a Jewish community. This had originated with Jewish traders and travellers from Persia and India using the Silk Road, and they lived and prayed in an area now called “Teaching the Torah Lanes” which we visited. A number of generations of intermarriage with native Chinese led to assimilation and, although there is no Jewish community there now, there are about 600 who claim “Jewish descent.” We were introduced to one such person, Shi Lei, a young man who has reclaimed his Jewish ancestry and is teaching Judaism to other Chinese people who claim Jewish descent.

The area where the synagogue had existed is now occupied by ordinary local buildings, but in any case the synagogue had, during the lifetime of the community, been rebuilt several times – on the last occasion after destruction by the flooded Yellow River. In a nearby house a woman who claimed Jewish descent had set up a small museum in one of her rooms with various old photographs and memorabilia of Jewish life in Kaifeng.

Although we then visited a number of ancient Kaifeng buildings, the Pagodas and the Guildhall, as well as the busy night market with its food stalls, my outstanding memory of the day was the

17 visit to the delightful Kaifeng campus of Henan University. Our group sat around a large table in the centre of a lecture room. At the head of the table sat the head of the Institute of Jewish Studies, together with Professor Xu Xin, President of the China Judaic Studies Association and Director of the Center for Jewish Studies at Nanjing University. Ranged around the room were undergraduate and postgraduate students and each, in middling to excellent English, described the projects on which they had been set to work. What was mind-blowing to me was the range of subjects, from 13th century European Jewry to 20th century Israel. Following these presentations we visited the library which contained a wide range of books of Jewish interest (to which were going to be added those books we had brought for the collection). Some time was left for informal talk with the students, one of whom had described her interest in the cause of the expulsion of the Jews from England in 1290. Since this was a subject on which I had worked I was able to find from her what information she was seeking, which I subsequently emailed to her.

A Tang Dynasty Theme Park by Sidney Budd and Sonia Lovett Thursday, 29 October

We reluctantly left our 5-star hotel, after the very best breakfast of our trip, for a fleeting visit to the Riverside Theme Park - The Millennium City. This is a recreation of an ancient painting of a riverside scene from the Northern Sung Dynasty by Zhang Zeduan who lived in the 12th century. In the painting there are 629 figures of pedlars, monks, business men, cows, donkeys, sedan chairs and camels - all coming to China from the West - the only pictorial material available to scholars and also depicting the time that Jews first came to Kaifeng along the Silk Road. The theme park was very colourful - with people dressed in ancient costumes and hoards of enthusiastic school children enjoying themselves. We were in time to watch the opening ceremony, followed by some incredible stilt-walking.

Time was moving on and we soon had to leave for the airport, but we were able to squeeze in a visit to a pavilion in the park which

18 housed a truly amazing exhibition devoted to the history of the Jewish community of Kaifeng. There was a model of the Jewish compound in Kaifeng as it was in the 10th century - the synagogue looked exactly like a Chinese temple.

Perhaps what was most remarkable about the whole Kaifeng experience was the regard given to its now lost Jewish community by a people who, for all practical purposes, have no experience of Jews and Judaism.

We left the park at 10.30 a.m. and caught a flight to Shanghai, arriving at 3.30 p.m. Our hotel was in the French Concession - the area looked European, with villas surrounded by gardens, a most desirable area to live in, apparently, and many academics had moved in.

[ In the evening we went for a 45-minute boat ride on the Huongpu River to see the amazing sight of the illuminations on both sides of the river - the early-20th century European buildings on the Bund, as well as the contemporary skyscrapers on the newer Pudong side. What a spectacle, and testament to a very dynamic city which we were all excitedly looking forward to exploring over the next couple of days. It was an exhilarating end to the day. Ed. ]

From the Shanghai Ghetto to the Bazaar by Susan Kikoler Friday, 30 October

The sky was overcast as we began our tour of the Ghetto in the small but appropriately named Huoshan Civilised Park which had once been the site of a Jewish cemetery. We huddled around the Jewish Refugee Memorial Monument, erected in 1993, while Professor Xu recounted the story of the Shanghai Jewish community. The Ghetto, never more than six blocks by ten, set up by the Japanese in 1941, had remained 95% Chinese although the Jewish population had swelled to around 25,000 in the war years, including the entire Ivo Yeshiva that had arrived from Poland via Japan.

Across the road we saw the former headquarters of the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee. We walked down Zhousan Street, stopping at a typical tenement building of the Ghetto era that still housed seven families sharing one kitchen and primitive lavatory facilities. Number 59 had a plaque to Michael Blumenthal, later US Treasury Minister, and one of its occupants from 1940 to 1948.

Our next destination was the Ohel Moishe Synagogue and the Shanghai Jewish Refugee Museum housed in its grounds. We gathered to view the moving multimedia introduction to the Holocaust before exploring further rooms dedicated to the life and personalities of the Ghetto. There was a heart-stopping moment when Ruth Barnett recognised her father in an old photo. There was to be a further important discovery. Moving into the synagogue itself, newly renovated to its 1928 appearance, Tania, Ruth’s daughter, found her grandfather’s old address on the database and so they both were able to retrace his steps to the very house he had inhabited.

19 Pudong’s magnificent ultramodern skyline provided a distraction from the emotional rollercoaster of the morning. We photographed the Bund from its shores. Commerce then beckoned - Shanghai means shopping and silk, so we were taken to the silk factory. Despite our guide’s efforts, it was hard to feel outrage at the brief life and violent death of the silk-worm, though fascinating to learn that while Spring cocoons are 1,200 metres long, Summer cocoons only stretch 800 metres because Summer worms are gluttons, eat too quickly and begin to spin five days earlier. We then watched in amazement as 100 layers of this gossamer fibre were stretched out to create a one-kilo blanket.

Stopping briefly for a blitz on bags, while some returned to the hotel for Shabbat, we arrived at the Yu Yuan Gardens, 400 years ago the private gardens of a Treasury Minister and divided into seven sections. These classical Chinese gardens were immediately captivating to our Western eyes but Professor Xu helped us understand the spirit behind them and the art involved in their creation – how limited space was made to seem unlimited through ever-changing vistas and shifting perspectives.

Dusk fell. A bat wheeled overhead and time seemed to stand still. It was a shock to exit into the bustle of the surrounding Bazaar with its 200-year-old Tea-house and bartering bargain-hunters.

Dinner that night was very special. Professor Xu led us through the history and development of Sino-Israeli relations. Then he began to speak of himself and the way Jewish culture and heritage had entered his life and shaped his destiny. That we had been privileged to travel with him had never been in doubt. Our journey would have been so much the poorer without his accompanying expertise. But to see this man, from so different a background, bearing our torch so brightly lit, the champion of our own heritage for his world to see, was intensely moving. We will never forget it.

Thank you, Professor, and thank you, Brian, for putting our gratitude into words.

The Mansion which Became a Palace by Susan Kikoler Saturday, 31 October

Our first stop was outside the Catholic Cathedral where yet another bride stood posing and a spoil-sport street-sign proclaimed “No Fireworks.” We drove through the elegant sycamore-lined streets of the French Concession and through the Consulate area, eventually stopping outside an Art Deco apartment block where Mimi’s aunt had lived with her family in the 1940s. A plaque proclaimed “The Kaufman Apartment.” Managing to enter the building, we found the present owner absent. Inquisitive downstairs neighbours came out. There was much discussion between the Professor and a man, his hair tied in a stubby ponytail, whose wife stood clutching what, at first glance, seemed the ubiquitous grandchild but, on closer inspection, was a European doll. Come in, they beckoned, proudly showing off their home to these strangers who, they could evermore claim, had come halfway across the world to view it.

The “Children’s Palace,” our next stop, was an abode of quite another dimension. The Kedouri residence until 1949, this magnificent white- stucco mansion had been turned by

20 Madame Sun Yatsen into an extra-curricular performing arts academy for local gifted children. As parents waited to collect their talented offspring, budding ballerinas performed for us in pink leotards and knee-protectors. Tiny children concentrated on crayoning, without aprons, yet all remarkably clean. Much older students were drawing a Renaissance marble head.

Lunch was in a Buddhist restaurant and, since Buddhists are vegetarian, for once the group ate together without distinction of carnivore or herbivore. An interesting menu was served – mock salami and beef, samphire, black fungus with sesame seed, pak choy, cabbage and, of course, no meal would have been complete without the watermelon. We hurried back towards the Jade Buddha Temple.

I confess that, after two weeks of sightseeing, temples and Buddhas had all merged into a mist of gold figurines and incense. Here there were more figures, more incense and beggars blocking our path, exhibiting their afflictions for sympathy and money. We were invited to climb some steep and very narrow stairs. Why not?

We entered a room where 666 little golden Buddhas sat in patient obeisance to the central figure – a single translucent piece of jade carved into the most exquisite deity, one hand held up flat (a sign of conversion), the second pointing down to earth and help. This was worth the visit.

Saturday is a popular day for the Shanghai Museum and we had to queue to enter. There was merely an hour and a half to explore its treasures. I chose the jade, some furniture, the picture gallery (where lights shone onto the fragile paintings only when someone stood in front), and the porcelain exhibits, so magnificent, that they convinced even me that this is no minor art.

Our last stop brought us bang up to date - a snazzy, trendy development of restaurants and shops called Xin Tian Die, where the Shanghai glitterati could meet to eat at Maxim’s or shop at Shanghai Tang. It was Halloween. Large black cut-out bats hung from the lamp posts and there was the promise of a Venetian Masquerade in celebration. (I am still puzzling over the connection.)

A more traditional treat lay in store for us – The Shanghai Acrobats! We gasped. We laughed. We held our breath. They defied gravity. They defied human anatomy. The show was a wonderful, witty and imaginative production. It was our last evening together. What a way to end!

The next day we would part – Professor Xu back to Nanjing, a small group continuing on to Guilin, but most heading home to the UK. A few rushed goodbyes over the suitcases as we hurried to the coach and it was all over.

21 EXTENSION WEEK TO GUILIN AND ENVIRONS

… and Then There Were Ten by Maggie Garson Sunday, 1 November

Our party of ten was very much looking forward to visiting Guilin and being in a more rural location. The views from the aeroplane windows gave us a foretaste of the limestone karsts for which Guilin is famous. After the two- hour flight we were met by our very pleasant and friendly guide called Summer. She first took us to a dining room in the airport for another banquet and then we headed in the small coach to Elephant Hill Park on the River Li.

Summer told us that the Long March, the military movement of Mao’s Communist Party to recruit the peasants, had marched through Guilin during 1935-6. Seventy-five percent of the city was destroyed during the Second World War when this part of the country was occupied by the Japanese from 1940, so most of Guilin was rebuilt. The current population of the city centre is 600,000 and 4.7 million in Greater Guilin, including the outlying rural areas. Summer explained how the limestone karsts were formed and she answered our questions about the rice crops we could see growing on our journey from the airport into the city. It is a very green city and the streets are lined predominately with Osmanthus trees. This tree is the emblem of Guilin and had finished flowering the week before when the city, we were told, smells pungently sweet. We did find the occasional small yellow flowers still blooming, they’re also dried (reported to stop wrinkles developing) and used to flavour green tea.

We were all impressed by Elephant Hill Park and walked along the lush river bank flanked with trees and tall bamboo. There were a few stalls with the usual offerings for a retail opportunity and postcard vendors but it was all quite low- key and non-aggressive. The Li River is very shallow at this time of the year as this is the dry season. Elephant Hill really did look like an elephant with his trunk in the water. After the stroll some of us ventured up the hill, approximately 100 steps with a very sheer, steep climb and then gentler paths circumnavigating the peak where there is a pagoda. The small Buddhist temple at the base of the hill has survived the war and Japanese occupation. There was also evidence of very old rock carvings at the base of the hill, under the elephant’s trunk.

It was warm and the sun was shining in a bright blue sky, a perfect autumn day. Our hotel wasn’t far away, overlooking the man-made Banyam Lake which, we were told, had finally been renovated and was now open to the public for boat rides. A few of us arranged to go for a night boat ride after dinner that night. We had a short drive around town before the boat ride to get our bearings and see where the street market, the shops and also the town square were. From the boat, the lake looked very pretty at night as the surrounding vegetation was lit with different coloured lights. There were two pagodas in the lake, one lit in gold lights and the other in silver, both spectacular. Specific sites around the lake were floodlit, such as the glass bridge and a group of musicians dressed in traditional clothes. Also there were various bridges crossing the lake which were smaller copies of bridges around the world, such as the bright red Golden Gate Bridge and a Parisian bridge plus Arc de Triumph, very Las Vegas and slightly kitsch. We were serenaded by a violinist on a two string guitar playing international numbers, but the absolute high spot was the cormorants diving for fish for their master, their necks tied with rice stalks so that they cannot swallow the fish.

22 A Cruise on the Li River by Maggie Garson Monday, 2 November

In the morning there was a five-hour boat ride down the Li River. The scenery was very picturesque as we snaked our way down the river in a convoy of some forty boats in the sunshine. Fortunately the river was just about deep enough to allow the boats to sail through with occasional grinding of the stones on the river bed. Intermittently, the boat would stop to let passengers on or off at the villages by the river. The rock formations are stunning. This was a lazy way to pass the day with the opportunity to chat to other tourists, take photos, sketch, sunbathe, nurse a cold, read, sleep or do nothing while messing about on the Li River.

Lunch was served on the boat and there was a possibility of buying Snake Wine, a speciality of this area but, strangely, nobody succumbed. When lunch was cleared away the boat became a floating bazaar with girls producing more and more fancy goods for sale. The occasional jade vendor on a bamboo raft would navigate their way close to the boat to make a sale. Water buffalo waded in the water and the 20- foot high bamboo rustled in the wind, flanked on either side of the river by the limestone karsts.

We disembarked at Yangshuo, having bought more books, postcards, scarves etc. on board. We had no idea that a lot of aggressive selling of tourist souvenirs would take place along the river promenade and the streets of the village. Despite so many shops and stalls it is a pretty location and cars are banned. After wandering around the village and haggling with some proficiency or enjoying a pot of tea in a café by the river, we took an electric car up to the car park at the back of the town.

The ride back to Guilin as the sun was setting was very scenic, past small, bright green rice paddies and other produce growing in allotments. It was all very lush. Dinner that night was at the left-bank restaurant on the top (seventh) floor of another hotel next to the lake. We had a delicious meal and later some of us went shopping in the department stores to find more bargains and designer copies, or wander by the lake, or simply relax in the hotel.

The Picturesque Village of Daxu by Maggie Garson Tuesday 3 November

Today we visited Daxu, a small 300-year old village set on the River Li. The small, one or two storey wooden terraced houses have brick arches built between every ten or so houses to stop fire spreading. Daxu has mainly elderly inhabitants as many of the younger generation have moved to the cities. Some groups of people could be seen dredging the banks of the river searching for any valuables buried in the mud. The village streets gradually filled as the inhabitants set out their stalls of trinkets to sell to tourists. A number of houses had been turned into art galleries selling predominantly painted scrolls. There were also some unusual shops, including a Chinese

23 herbalist selling dried parts or whole dried animals such as bats for herbal remedies. Sounds of Buddhist chanting wafted from the temple and the sun shone on this picturesque scene, as the red lanterns hanging along the street of shops and stalls swayed gently in the breeze.

We were reluctant to leave but we returned to Guilin for another delicious lunch and later visited the Reed Flute Cave, a short drive into the countryside. The cave gets its name from the fact that it once had reeds growing by the entrance. The huge grotto impressed everyone with its fantastic formations of stalactites and stalagmites, lit to reveal unexpected and amazing scenes in the rock.

We made a stop at a university art gallery which offered works for sale. Traditional Chinese art used ink on rice paper but for the last 200 years watercolours, as well as oils, have been used.

Afterwards some of us went on an unscheduled visit to the zoo in the Seven Stars Park in Guilin (the park originally opened to tourists during the Sui Dynasty and covers 137 hectares) to go to see the panda who looked a little sad all alone in its concrete room, munching on carrot and bamboo leaves. We also saw a rare Chinese Golden Monkey. Exhaustion finally overcame us and we returned to the hotel.

Being Mobbed on the Way to Ping’an by Mimi Rolbant Wednesday, 4 November

A two-hour drive brought us to the village of Longsheng at the foothills of a mountain which we would be ascending. We were mobbed by some very spirited elderly ladies of the Yao ethnic group when we disembarked from our coach. They were really tiny, much shorter than us, and had jet black hair tied in a big knot on their forehead. Through humour and persistence, they tried hard to make us buy their souvenirs and postcards. One of them even grabbed Sylvia’s arm and wouldn’t let go! There was much laughter on both sides.

A local minibus took us up the mountain and negotiated the hairpin bends to the village of Ping’an which had a gated entrance. The village, which is 600 years old, is inhabited by the Zhuang ethnic group and has their traditional wooden houses. We saw corn on the cob tied in bunches on the house walls and put out to dry in the sun; red chillies were spread out to dry on the ground and there were ducks roaming around. There were no roads or mountain paths within the village, just long, winding flights of steps, but easy ones to climb as they were shallow. There were stalls selling local wares and handicrafts, as well as the factory-made scarves which have

24 been on sale ubiquitously on our travels. One stall was selling guns, which was bizarre and unsettling.

We had a climb of about 1,200 steps to the summit (where we bumped into a group of Israelis - they / we certainly get around!). It was possible to hire a sedan chair and be taken upto the summit in style; however, the sedan-carriers whom we met on the steps seemed to find the climb with their charges quite arduous due to the steepness of the gradient. On the way we passed some Yao women selling textiles and materials which showed their skills at embroidery, weaving and dyeing and we noticed several eateries and hostels for the foreign traveller. A menu sign outside one eatery advertised “Longji Wild Frog,” which didn’t exactly appeal to me, somehow.

The local people were going up and down with huge straw panniers on their backs containing anything from a tourist’s luggage, to a child, or perhaps food for a restaurant. We ourselves stopped halfway for lunch at an airy wooden restaurant, then continued to the top, where the views were simply astounding. We looked down and all around us were the rice terraces of the Zhuang people. The terraces curved around the mountainside, making circular shapes most pleasing to the eye, especially as some of us had never seen rice paddies before. The views were a photographer’s delight.

It seems that more than one ethnic group is present in these parts and even within the village of Ping’an itself. At the summit, for example, we saw some women in colourful, embroidered traditional dresses, posing with a group of Japanese tourists (supposedly), but we couldn’t identify their ethnicity. We learned that China has 56 ethnic groups in all but the Chinese Jews are not one of them, as they don’t meet certain criteria.

When the local minibus dropped us at Longsheng, the elderly Yao ladies swarmed on us again - it was really funny this time and we all joined in the laughter. It had been a gorgeous day with temperatures of 23 degrees C and a bright blue sky. Perfect. During the coach trip back to Guilin, we stopped briefly at the shop of Liu San Jie Tea Factory, which was selling the teas harvested in the fields close by.

Hangzhou, an Earthly Paradise by Mimi Rolbant Thursday, 5 November

We had a late start in the morning, as we weren’t due to leave Guilin until lunchtime, so there was enough time for a walk along the lakeshore. There we saw a group of women doing their daily exercise which seemed to be some form of elegant dancing. I wondered what they do in winter when it is too cold to stay outdoors, but perhaps it doesn’t get that cold here in Guilin.

On the way to the airport the coach stopped at a pharmacy, at my request, to buy some treatment for a cold sore. I was sold some herbal pills which, Summer informed me, were a commonplace Chinese remedy against the body’s overheating, and I was advised to drink plenty of water. (They did work, by the way.) It was an interesting way of finding out that, in China, medical treatment is different to ours; in Beijing, for example, when I had looked for an acupuncturist, we were informed that acupuncture was offered only in hospitals as standard medical treatment and not privately as alternative treatment.

The flight to Hangzhou took under two hours and we were met at the airport by a very young guide called Aaron. On the drive

25 into town we saw unusual modern houses which belonged to farmers who had become wealthy from growing bonsai trees. Sylvia remarked on the houses which had some strange decorative feature on the roofs, spires with three or four gold / silver balls, and were perhaps symbolic of something. This is the town which was renowned in medieval China as an earthly paradise; it looked very clean and new and quite European, to my eyes.

There were rows of red bicycles for hire on the pavement, probably the first time we had seen them here. Little did we know that a year later we would see the same in London, but in blue.

We were taken to Liuhe Pagoda (Six Harmonies’ Pagoda), which is brown and octagonal in shape; it was rebuilt in 1163. It is constructed from brick and wood and, from the outside, it appears to be 13 storeys high but inside it is only seven. It is situated in lush grounds which showcase miniature pagodas from different eras and in different styles, which I found most interesting. I could have spent longer there; however, dusk turned to night very quickly and we had to depart.

In the evening, after dinner and checking in to our hotel which was close to the West Lake, three of us went for a walk along its famous shores. It was very dark but there were plenty of local people taking a late-night walk too. We found a Starbucks, where we sat and drank coffee; I had to make do with hot chocolate as it was way past my coffee time. Needless to say, it was an incongruous place to find an American coffee shop. How long will it take for the Chinese to acquire the taste for coffee, I wonder? I felt knackered - being a tourist is hard work.

Touring the Dreamy West Lake by Mimi Rolbant Friday, 6 November

Our morning sightseeing comprised of a 40-minute circular boat ride on West Lake (apparently, in China there are 36 lakes called West Lake but this one is the most important and is the lake after which all the others are named). It is man-made, as perhaps they all are, and is located in parklands. It is indeed lovely, with its willow trees lining the two causeways and lush vegetation growing thickly on its banks - there is something dreamy about it. The backdrop of the mountains in the distance which receded in various shades of hazy blue lent an air of infinity to the scene. No wonder it is considered one of the scenic wonders of China and has been painted profusely down the ages, as well as having been the inspiration for poets. We had a short walk in the park in which the lake is located, saw lots of koi fish in the smaller lakes, a crowd-pulling feature.

After an early lunch we headed for the railway station in order to take the bullet train to Shanghai. It was a shame to leave Hangzhou less than 24 hours after arriving; there is much to see here and I found it unlike the rest of China that we had seen - not dusty as the other towns and cities, but quite fresh and green. The bullet train didn’t reach 200 km p/h, reaching a maximum speed of 170 km p/h instead, and the journey was quick and unremarkable.

When we arrived at Shanghai South Station we realised that we had not been given any instructions as to

26 which exit to meet our guide at. Finally a young guide called Gerry approached us and he seemed even more relieved than we were, since he had been running around the four exits and was rather flustered. We were driven to the Hengshan Picardie Hotel, an Art Deco building in the former French Concession and quite well known from the 1930s, when it was an apartment block (some storeys are still residential). The rooms were large and comfortable, as were the bathrooms, and everyone in the group seemed happy. Everyone was anticipating the pleasure of having a free evening and eating in a restaurant of one’s own choice in small groups of twos and fours.

Last Day in Shanghai by Mimi Rolbant Saturday, 7 November

We awoke to a warm, muggy day, during which the sun never managed to break through the clouds. Breakfast was unhurried for once, with no coach awaiting us, and it was possible to savour the art deco interior of the hotel’s dining area. This was to be a leisure day for the group and I intended to use every minute of it to do some more sightseeing. The first item on the agenda was the Shanghai Art Museum, housed in previous clubhouse of the Shanghai Race Club, an eclectic building built in 1933 which has an eye-catching clock tower. The museum usually mounts contemporary art exhibitions as well as the Shanghai biennale. Whilst we were there, it was showing an exhibition of Communist-era art which was captioned solely in Chinese and there were no hand-outs or brochures in English, unfortunately. We ascended the building to see the terrace restaurant which afforded good views of the city - worth remembering for a place to eat on my next visit to Shanghai, whenever that is.

Instead, we kept our reservation for brunch at a rooftop restaurant overlooking the Bund and thoroughly enjoyed the calm, unhurried service. It was so good to be able to eat quietly and without rushing, and to have our familiar Western fare just for a change, though the Chinese buffets we had been served on the trip had been excellent. The views from the rooftop showed clearly the extent of the building works taking place along the Huangpu River below, on the Bund side - it is basically a very noisy and dusty building site. The road is partially closed to traffic as the promenade is being redesigned and other construction works are under way, which should be finished next year in time for the World Expo.

We decided to explore some of the 52 buildings of the former British Settlement (it became the International Settlement when the American one was combined with the British) which line the Bund, in all their differing architectural styles. These buildings are what the Bund is famous for, after all. However, some of the buildings were closed and were being internally renovated; the guards would not allow us to take photographs in most of the others as they were mainly financial institutions. What with all the noise of the lorries and the dust from the rubble, as well as the inaccessibility of the buildings, this was not the experience I was looking for.

Later we went to an outlet selling fake designer bags and succumbed. Extortionate prices were demanded, more reasonable ones were offered by us and accepted by the vendor.... But, reader, once we came back home to the UK and started to use them, the bags fell apart very quickly - seams came undone and zips broke. As we say, if something looks too good to be true, then it probably is, so no more fakes for me.

One more Chinese dinner and so endeth the Chinese adventure. Three weeks had gone by so fast, during which there had been little time for reflection, leaving us with an overload of visual stimuli and facts to absorb. Clearly, this country is in transition, unsentimental of its past in its rush to modernise. Let’s hope that town planners appreciate the culture they still have and manage to hold on to it.

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