Drunk in China by Derek Sandhaus

Author:Derek Sandhaus
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: BIO026000 Biography & Autobiography / Personal Memoirs, TRV003020 Travel / Asia / China, CKB100000 Cooking / Beverages / General
Publisher: Potomac Books

I had consumed every last drop of water in the hotel room by the time Auntie called, twenty minutes early, to say she was in the lobby. After I scraped my carcass from the bed, Auntie and Uncle ran me through a battery of local tourist attractions. Uncle offered more baijiu, though only as a halfhearted courtesy. Form dictated at least making the gesture, but he didn’t insist when I declined.

We picked up Grandpa and Grandma. We ate, we took pictures, we went to another museum, we went to a tomb, and then we ate some more. Auntie continued to complain that my appetite would shame my family for several generations, offering me more nourishment at every turn. Grandpa, a slight man with a mat of white hair, added, “I’m an old man, but I can eat more than you can.” We discussed what a model worker I thought their niece/grandchild was, and together we explored every permutation of the differences between our two countries. We played mahjong, and, though I can’t prove it, I suspect they let me win.

Auntie and Uncle stayed with me until midnight, when my train was scheduled to depart. They even went so far as to walk me to the platform, gently reminding me to keep an eye on my luggage and mind my health. They were lovely, generous people, and it was one of those partially hungover days that felt like a fuzzy memory even as it unfolded. But there was a certain moment that sticks with me.

We were standing high atop a Ming dynasty burial mound, more of a hill really. To one side, faintly visible through the dense air, were nuclear cooling towers. To the other a solitary mountain peak, its visible face a sheer cliff with a patch of green on top.

“These mountains used to stretch for miles in both directions. They were much taller than they are today,” said Uncle, a touch of sadness entering his voice. “This is all that’s left. The rest has been turned into concrete.” It was easy to see the rugged beauty the range must have imparted on the stark landscape. And what was it now? An apartment complex? A highway overpass? It was astonishing to contemplate a country that was literally moving mountains to feed its growth engines.

Bleak as the memory may seem in retrospect, a photograph snapped that afternoon tells a different story. There we are, the three of us standing atop the mound. I stand at the center, my arms wrapped around Auntie and Uncle, a genuine smile on all of our faces.

Before I boarded the train they asked me to call them the next time I was in Henan. I promised them that I would. Two strangers took me in, showed me their home, and gave me their wine. Just as has been done for thousands of years.

That was my lasting impression of the Central Plain, the place where it all started. Rivers run dry. Mountains turned to dust. But the people and the traditions endure.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.