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In the morning we made our own way around Chengdu, going first to Wenshu Temple. Its walkways were clogged with building materials and the throngs of worshippers had decided not to come that day. If there were signposts to the vegetarian restaurant and teahouses people talk about, we missed them and left seeking food elsewhere. We went into a couple of outdoor equipment shops near the temple and I was drawn to the lightweight clothes. I could have bought trousers there for a third of what I paid in Wuhan. Later I went back and did that. They purported to be a well known brand but were missing a couple of belt loops.

Our energy was fading as we had not had breakfast so I hailed a cab and headed across the river for some Western food. Luckily it was easy to find the places mentioned in the guide and we chose The Red Brick Café, and had a nice brunch. After brunch we went a short way to the Museum of the University of Sichuan where we looked at minorities exhibits, ancient statues and pottery. It was a nice display though not a large museum.

After that we walked along the river and failed to find the Qingshiqiao market for a while. I asked passers-by for directions and a lovely girl went out of her way to take us personally as so often is my experience here and eventually we arrived there. The first part we saw was a huge and smelly food market which Shining girl refused to experience. Me too! Instead we came to a fashion arcade and wandered for a while looking at clothes and jewellery. Soon after leaving that we spotted a street market with a variety of goods from umbrellas to craft items and clothes. I bought a couple of brown elastic hair bands and there was a funny misunderstanding when the staff of the shop asked me if I would let them have my small change and I thought they wanted me to pay ten yuan. Amazingly, one of the hostel staff walked into the shop with perfect timing to explain my mistake and I exchanged my oversupply of ones for a ten. SG bought a watch for the price of a plastic toy.

Despite my being up until three organizing all the things I should have got ready a week before I had no difficulty getting up for our early plane. One plane trip to Chengdu is much like another but there is always something to make it a little more interesting. This time it was the excitement of some other passengers who had obviously never been on a plane before. They were part of a tour group and I enjoyed the thrill with them, thinking back to when I was twelve and went on a plane to Sydney. The uniquely Chinese response was that the men of the party stood up to watch the plane’s descent and the hostesses were not going to enforce the safety warnings. I tapped one of the men on the arm and told him ‘Xiao xin’, be careful (literally ‘small heart’). I mimed the quick deceleration of landing. He passed the message to his friends and they repeated their thanks after the landing.

The bus into town was waiting and after enquiring we were instructed to get off at the second stop, the closest to the guesthouse we had booked. We took a pedicab the rest of the way. It had enthusiastic press in The Lonely Planet Guide but we were not particularly impressed. The guesthouse/hostel is part of a larger hotel but the office is a small shop next door to the entrance. Our room was ok and the staff were friendly but we felt it had become a more cynical money making enterprise than the guide book reported.

It’s a common story in China; a person begins a business with good attitudes and surprisingly quickly changes into a hard-head concerned to milk every cent possible out of his customers. We saw the manager arguing with an English woman who had been given a rail ticket for the wrong date. He came up with some fantastic and even insulting ideas as to why she was saying she had asked for a different day. The most likely reason in China is that the staff misunderstood the date. I pointed out that the ticket could be refunded, partially and sat watching the conversation. He eventually offered to split the difference of the 20% shortfall. It is pretty likely he went to the station and sold the ticket to a waiting customer for 90%, a common practice here. Then he would keep his commission and get commission on the correct ticket too. Of course, I’m speculating.

The building has an interesting history, having been built by northern merchants who wanted to win favour with the provincial governor. They provided a large and beautiful establishment filled with beautiful young women and gained a favourable trading position in Sichuan. The courtyard and hallways of this high class ex-pleasure house retained traces of their elegance but the elegance was a little grimy and alterations for the modern age were not sensitively done.

We went to a building up the road where we were told we could get Western food and found a small apartment upstairs in a blue and yellow building where some women cooked pizzas, chips and some Chinese foods. Not memorable but nourishing enough. We then chose to rest as the life draining pollution of Wuhan and its heat had tired us. It was obvious that Chengdu was little better and perhaps we both felt disappointed. As with most Chinese cities, Chengdu is like a dragon farting poisonous exhaust in its rush to the mythical heaven of Capitalism.

The next day I decided to take her to see Yellow Crane Tower. I wanted to go by bus but was unsure which bus to change to after my usual one. I asked the conductress. She understood me and told me where to get off and which one to wait for. I was not completely certain I had understood her correctly but there was no problem. We took the number 10.

It was warm but not unbearable for us, being used to Queensland weather, but we needed a cool drink when we got to the top of the building, but, thankfully there is no shop there. Shining girl’s camera had to go in for repair before she came and it wasn’t fixed on time for her trip so we shared mine. The building is not very old but it is a beautiful pagoda in line of succession to many which have stood on that spot. Chinese poets loved it and its famous view of the Chiang Jiang (Long River, Yangtze). Many came and tried to write a better poem than previous visitors. Today I have to say that tower is famous because of the poetry and not the view. It is often almost impossible to see the other side of the river through the perpetual Wuhan smog and it will be many years before people will again see the individual blades of grass on Parrot Island. For a foreigner the building itself is a worthwhile experience and many Chinese come to join with its historic and artistic persona. We bought our drinks near the foot of the Tower and in the tourist shops below the Tower we each bought a painted silk fan.

I give another impression of Yellow Crane Tower (Huang He Lou) in the ‘Where Can I Go’ category under the post title “Poets’ Tower”.
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We left the Tower and I had enough confidence in my Chinese to approach an old street vendor to ask about a bus to Guiyan Si, a temple. We gave her our empty drink bottles, which many old people in particular have the habit of collecting to sell for cash. She gave us directions and asked us for money for the service and I wouldn’t give it to her. Later she came and told us she had been wrong about the bus number and we misjudged her, thinking it was a payback. We were wrong and she came to stop us getting on the bus she originally told us to take. I gave her some money which she tried to refuse but I made her take it, regretting my mistake and calling her auntie.

Soon we were at the temple, an active Buddhist shrine. SG enjoyed the beauty of the statues and respected the worshippers there. There is a hall with many golden figures, whether Arhats, Buddhas or just statues I don’t know. There is a way they can be used for character or fortune divining and I experienced it on my last visit but I couldn’t remember how it worked. It was difficult to find someone who spoke English well enough to tell us but a young woman helped us as well as she could. I found I thought I understood some of her Chinese without being aware I knew the words. Between us we muddled on until I understood that one way to do it was to think of a number and approach a monk who sat at a desk by the door and tell him the number. He would then give a slip of paper that held the divination. I could have had my Chinese friends translate after. However, he disappeared just as we were ready to ask him. We just walked through the hall and looked at the different expressions and moods of the figures.

Outside I took SG to look at the massive statue of GuanYin that stands behind the main temple buildings. It must be twenty metres high. Then we made our way through the gift shops and out. Jesus wouldn’t have enjoyed Chinese temples. He would definitely have got his whip out and chased the shopkeepers. I find it difficult to understand how brassy pictures with flashing coloured lights can enhance religious experience. Religious kitsch is common around Chinese temples.

There was still plenty of time left so I decided to take SG to what I think is the youth fashion centre of Wuhan. On Zhongshan Dadao it is a three-level arcade of small shops frequented by the teens and the always juvenescent looking young twenties. Design goes wild and pretty young things, some rich enough to look like models, flaunt themselves here. SG enjoyed it and tried a couple of things on. Most is made for smaller girls with different proportions and ways of holding themselves but she found a nice top in a shop run by two curly (curled) haired girls with faces which seemed a little different from most Chinese (perhaps descended from one of the Muslim races of Western China).

We went home and I began to pack for our tour.

This is the second in a series of episodes of Shining Girl’s Trip to China, a journal of my daughter’s trip here to see me, the great things we saw and our difficulties and triumphs.

We got up in plenty of time to get to Hong Qiao airport for our flight back to Wuhan. I usually arrive early at Chinese airports, having heard too many stories about people’s seats being resold, so we had time to have breakfast there as we waited. Hong Qiao had a couple of restaurants and I chose the cheaper. Shining girl had her first taste of ‘jiaozi’, boiled dumplings, soft dough parcels with vegetable or meat fillings. Ours were a tasty mixture and she enjoyed them. I remember how slippery I found them when I first tried to eat them with chopsticks but she very practically chose to skewer them. My dexterity has increased greatly and I no longer find eating dumplings with chopsticks difficult and can hold them and dip them in ‘cu’, a vinegar sauce sometimes mixed with soy sauce or other ingredients, without losing them!

SG had a taste of the hazards of Chinese driving as we left the airport. Our driver, as all Chinese do, competitively edged into the queue to leave the car park but misjudged so he crumpled a door panel on another car. She described it well as like a crowd of people in a hurry to leave by a narrow exit. The Chinese do it in cars. Our driver drove outside the airport grounds and stopped and negotiated with the other driver until his offer was accepted and cash handed over on the spot. The same kind of driving behaviour occurs at speed on main roads. Drivers here plainly believe that edging ahead of one more car is going to get them to their destination faster. It actually just causes jams and slows everyone down. Shining girl thought they were all mad.

The driver who picked us up was an official driver for the company I worked for at the time. He and the others from that company were well mannered and patient on the roads so I felt very secure driving with them. As we travelled we experienced many drivers in the various towns we went to. Most had a blatant disregard for the rules of the road and seemed to have no idea of the etiquette required to optimise road use and keep people safe. Many foreigners are frightened by cab rides in China but my girl didn’t let it worry her.

We went to my home and had a rest then took a taxi to Jiefang Lu for a look at a Chinese department store. After window shopping for a while we had tea at Pizza Hut and went to the factory I worked at for a meeting with my students. Shining girl was the centre of attention. It was a little tricky to know how to manage the meeting as no one had really done this before and I suppose my Chinese friends were unsure as to how to relate to an Australian teenager. However we kept things moving when they were in danger of grinding to a halt and everyone gradually relaxed and overcame their shyness. I asked each person to introduce themself and ask questions and soon there was a little bit of play going on about how beautiful the young men thought my daughter was and what age was she and did she have a boyfriend already – all good humoured fun. They thought she was gorgeous! (And she is.) They were very nice to her and she saw why I enjoyed working with them so much.