Mist and Mirage - Kaiping Daiolou

The last place I visited during my epic 40 day trek through the Middle Kingdom was Kaiping. The county is famed for its distinctive watchtowers, known as diaolou. Rising magnificently from fields of green, the diaolou fuse Western and Chinese architectural styles. Originally constructed to keep bandits away during a time of rampant poverty, 1800 of the approximately 3000 structures remain standing today. Many are shuttered and not open to the public, while some still function as active living quarters for locals. Although Kaiping has a population of 700,000 people, it is estimated that another 700,000 Kaipingers are scattered throughout the globe. On a rainy day, I wandered through the cobblestone paths from one diaolou to the other in the village of Zili, accompanied only by a group of clucking roosters. I also visited the nearby Li Gardens and the town of Chikan, both of which also had similar fusion architecture.

After the practice of slavery was largely outlawed in the colonies of the Western powers, the colonialists still needed a source of low cost labour for construction, mining, gold-digging, and other economic pursuits. Their eyes turned to Canton in the 1800's, and Kaiping in particular, for here there was an untapped resoirvor of workers willing to accept any offer for a chance to work abroad. The worker would often get passage to North America or Australasia, and painstakingly work off the debt owed for the ticket in exchange. Many never made it back alive to see their families, others came back much worse off than before, but a few made fortunes in these far off places. These wealthy overseas Chinese then brought back Western ideas and money to fund the construction of these unique structures in Kaiping.

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"Americans are very rich people. They want the Chinaman to come and will make him welcome. There will be big pay, large houses, and food and clothing of the finest description. You can write your friends or send them money at any time, and we will be responsible for its safe delivery. It is a nice country, without mandarins or soldiers. All alike; big man no larger than little man. There are a great many Chinamen there now, and it will not be a strange country. Never fear, and you will be lucky. Money is in great plenty and to spare in America." - advertisement for recruiting workers in Kaiping

Beast Inside

After years of getting the cold shoulder from both Hollywood and Bollywood, my talent was finally recognized in the People's Republic of China. I acted in a short film called Beast Inside. Along with my fellow thespians, I was picked up in a van and taken to an abandoned warehouse where the movie would be filmed. My principal scene was the first to be shot. It would set the tone for the rest of the movie. After a few practice runs to see if the lighting and camera angles were correct, I changed into my costume.

Everyone held their breath as they waited to see how I would perform in my long awaited debut. Crew members ran around me, releasing smoke from canisters to create the proper effect. The director signalled that filming had commenced. Even through the haze, the spotlight shone brightly on me. I rose to the occasion, nailing my scenes after only a few takes. Everyone applauded as the director yelled "Cut!". I humbly acknowledged their praise as I walked off the set.

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"A man of knowledge lives by acting, not by thinking about acting."
- Carlos Castaneda

Forty Days and Forty Nights

After half a year of near continuous overtime at work, I took a 40 day leave of absence to explore the faraway regions of China. I said goodbye to some friends, reunited with others, and made new ones along the way. My Irish roommate and Malaysian diplomat would both leave the country to pursue other opportunities while I was away on my trip. My friend Preston would be my travel partner for the first half of my adventure, before returning to his American homeland. We met up in Xinjiang, crossing deserts (the Taklamakan), borders (into Pakistan), streets, and anything else that we came across.

At the midpoint of my journey I would spend a few days in Chongqing with my father, who would be attending a conference there. Preston and I would continue onwards, sailing the utterly disappointing Three Gorges before going our separate ways in Wuhan. He would return to Beijing to collect his belongings before flying home to America. I would turn my gaze eastwards to Shanghai and the World Expo, before traveling south to a tiny village in Fujian province to attend a colleague's marriage.

One successful wedding and several sessions of heavy drinking later I would find myself in Xiamen, a lovely coastal town near Taiwan. Here I would reunite with my former sidekick Leo for a few days until our paths diverged again. He was headed north and I was going south. My 40 days were almost up as I reached Canton, where I divided my time between the mega-city of Guangzhou and the tiny villages of Kaiping before jetting back to Beijing. All told I traveled over 13000 kilometers during this epic journey, or approximately 1/3 of the circumference of the Earth.

*****

“Not all those who wander are lost.” - J. R. R. Tolkien

The Hanging Monastery

Sixty five kilometers away from the dusty city of Datong is a sight to behold. A 1400 year old monastery is perched halfway up a sheer cliff wall. Constructed fifty meters up the rock face, the monastery is shielded from flooding of the river below. As I approached it from ground level it did not look that high.

The staircase grew increasingly narrow as I ascended the precipice. The monastery is supported by pillars of wood, which act as stilts. The stairs wind their way underneath the monastery, allowing zany Chinese tourists to vigorously shake the lumber that supports the very temple atop their heads. Once I had climbed up and peered down, my attitude about its altitude changed. With narrow pathways and knee high railings, the monk hang out was quite scary from above. I stuck as close to the walls of the monastery as I could.

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"Don't push! Safty first" - an unheeded warning sign atop the Hanging Monastery

Crash Landing

I soared through the air. This time I had taken flight willingly in a hot air balloon and not because I was at the mercy of a Chinese driver. Hovering thousands of meters above the earth, I surveyed the majestic scenery of Yangshuo below. Jagged peaks dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. I sailed up into the clouds as the wisps of air evaporated around me, just barely out of reach. But the beauty of the clouds also posed a threat. The skies were becoming overcast, an ominous portent of things to come. Soon the first drops of rain started to fall, quickly picking up strength until it transformed into a full scale shower.

It was time for us to land but we were not near our base camp, having floated away in the opposite direction. We started our descent, but there was no chair to put back into upright position or seat belt to buckle up. After soaring at high altitudes for nearly an hour, the balloon was now only several hundred feet above the earth. We hovered over paddy fields and then drifted over to a nearby town. A spotter ran through the narrow lanes until he located an opening. He beckoned us towards an apartment complex with a basketball court. My trip to the troposphere became even more memorable as the pilot gracefully guided the hot air balloon on to the court. A few bemused spectators who had come out of their homes watched me breath a sigh of relief as soon as my feet touched the ground.

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"They say any landing you can walk away from is a good one." ~ Alan Shepard