China –
people
Our first
days in China coincided with the National Holidays, the anniversary of the
proclamation of the People’s Republic of China. This is an occasion for travel
for many Chinese. Immense throngs of people were flooding the Forbidden City
and other sites of interest. It was barely possible to move in the crowd. Worst
was the Summer Palace (Beijing). The paths of the beautiful park were
completely clogged; people were climbing the rocks to bypass the queues. On
such an occasion Kristina fell and scratched her knee. There was a little blood
and immediately a Chinese family rushed to the rescue, producing a Band-Aid and
offering help in general. This was some contrast to what we perceived as rather
inconsiderate pushing and jostling we were subjected to during the whole day.
We went to
see a hutong in the vicinity of the Beihai park.
One of the
houses was opened to the public (for a hefty fee). The guide was a woman about
the age of our daughters, who immediately grabbed us, questioned about our
country, asked for advice about English pronunciation (little did she know what
she’s in for!) and then recited the information about the house.
But the
highlight came during the three Gorges trip on the Yangtze. We took a “basic”
boat, which meant that there were ordinary Chinese. Some of them were partying
on deck. One woman played a sort of lute, very beautifully, others sang and
danced. We were immediately invited.
And at
night there was the same group of people, who invited us again. The singing was
intensive now, aided by beer and rice wine. I drank a Bruderschaft with two gentlemen, and a third intoned something I at
once recognized as pacцвeтaли яблoни и гpyши… only in Chinese, whereupon I could
not help but continued “выхoдила, песню зaвoдила…” and so on. I continued with
Härjarevisan (Gärdebylåten) but it was not such a success.
This went
on and on – the first prize in singing went to the Chinese. Such meetings make going
to another country meaningful for me.
And I was
thinking of the German saying “böse Menschen haben keine Lieder” (Evil men have
no songs). But I don’t know what they were singing; maybe something that belied
the German saying? I am thinking of the Red Guards (of the Cultural revolution)
who were singing too, and then I thought of the scenes in Farewell my concubine and recalled the fate of the playwright Lao She, who drowned himself after
having been manhandled and humiliated by the Red Guards.
Now to something
rather different: I was thinking about the contrast between the cordial, warm
atmosphere on the boat, the helpful family in the Summer Palace (and our guide)
on one hand – and the jostling, inconsiderate crowds on the other hand. In a
way, this fits the ideas of Ferdinand Tönnies about the big, organised and non-personal official world represented by - for instance - the state with its laws and the small world of a community (the village, the family, school pals
etc.) with informal rules of behaviour, often settled in face to face contact. People behave differently in such settings, not only the Chinese. But
here the contrast was really very marked.
Well, reader, you maybe can help me with this?


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