The cuddliest, cutest, best-behaved pet you could want for your bamboo garden? Whatever you end up thinking of this most peculiar creature, it is impossible to take your eyes off them, and the place to explore questions surrounding this dichromatic bear of bears is the Panda Research and Breeding Centre in Chengdu .
The panda is a native of the mountain forests in Sichuan , with some territory overlapping into the neighboring Gansu and Shaanxi Provinces . There are only a little over one thousand left in the wild, and over eighty percent of them are in Sichuan . Most of them are to be found in the mountain forests at the edge of the Tibetan Plateau. The government has taken a number of administrative steps to protect the pandas: they have introduced legislation against further logging in the habitat areas and have brought those areas under conservation orders. Despite this good work there are substantial worries about the long-term survival of the bears if left to their own devices; while there are around thirty distinct populations in the wild the majority of those populations have less than fifty individuals, not a high enough number to ensure survival. Partly to offset that lack of numbers this large institution on the outskirts of Chengdu was set up with the aim of increasing panda reproduction, and then training the young so that they can be released back into the wild. It is hoped that greater numbers and less fragmentation will eventually guarantee the species a future. However, the reproductive habits of the panda make this task much more difficult than it may appear. Female pandas only ovulate once a year, in the spring. This short period of two to three days is the only time she can conceive. She will give birth somewhere between three and seven months later. Births are usually single, and even when two cubs appear more often than not only one will survive. Because the panda young stay with their mother for a minimum of two years this generally means she can breed at most only every second year. With a life expectancy around thirty and a sexually active period of up to fifteen years it is easy to see why the population will take a long time to recover from any setbacks it suffers.
The institute covers a large area mostly of bamboo forests and a lake, and the animals here seem to like where they are. In the grounds you can often see both adults and young of the giant panda; the red panda and some water birds can also be found on the grounds. If you can take your eyes off the main attraction, the bamboo groves make for a pleasant stroll, especially if you've not experienced them before.
But the headline attraction cannot be anything but the giant pandas. They strip, shred, and eat bamboo with gusto; the young ones play in the trees and climb out on branches where they always elicit "oohs" and "aahs" from their rapt audience by balancing awkwardly from branches that seem to light to hold them. There aren't many places in the Chinese world where animals are so well on show.
Day One
Today you will fly to Chengdu, the capital of modern Sichuan province. A historic capital serving as the traditional gateway to the Tibetan plateau, Chengdu has in recent years become a vibrant and sophisticated metropolis. Prepare yourself for mouth-watering Sichuan food, wonderful cultural sites and of course one of the rarest bears on our planet. (Shangri-la Hotel – Executive Riverview Room) (B, L, D)
Day Two
Early this morning we will take you to the Panda Research Institute, set within spacious parkland, where you will be able to observe pandas being fed a breakfast of bamboo shoots in their lush green pens.
Before lunch, we will visit a traditional Chengdu street to view, if not taste, some traditional Sichuanese street foods and tea-houses. This afternoon, you will drive an hour outside the city to visit one of the most mysterious archaeological discoveries of the twentieth century – Sanxingdui. The site is believed to date from the third millennium BCE. As well as cast bronze "sacred trees" on which stand molded singing birds and hundreds of jade and lacquer wares, there are a series of gold-plated bronze masks that are astonishingly beautiful. Compounding the archeological wealth of Sanxingdui is the silence of any historical record positioning this advanced civilization within the arc of China 's pre-history. This has wrapped the site in a shroud of mystery as intriguing and compelling as that of the Egyptian pyramids. (B, L, D)
Day Three
This morning, we will travel to one of China's most important Daoist Temples, Qingyang Temple. Daoism as a religious practice and institution incorporates a broad and set of historic disciplines within its belief system. As well as the worthwhile chemical and herbal research completed over the ages in pursuit of an "Immortality Pill", Qingyanggong also has a Daoist orchestra, a Taiji master, a Taiji tea instructor, a homeophathic doctor and a Daoist restaurant. Quite apart from a personal meeting with a Daoist monk to learn about such ideological matters as synchronicity, the Eight Trigrams and their interaction with the energy forces of Yin & Yang, visitors will be able to investigate some of the above disciplines and also tour the living quarters of the monks. You will be transferred to the airport in time for your flight to your next destination. (B, L)
Please note that B, L, D denotes Breakfast, Lunch Dinner.
The Western view:
"Green mountains surround on all sides the still waters of the lake. Pavilions and towers in hues of gold and azure rise here and there. One would say a landscape composed by a painter. Only towards the east, where there are no hills, does the land open out, and there sparkle, like fishes' scales, the bright coloured tiles of a thousand roofs."
(Jacques Gernet, Daily life in China on the Eve of the Mongol Invasion)
The Eastern view:
"In heaven there is Paradise, On earth there are Suzhou and Hangzhou." (popular saying)
Hangzhou's inordinate beauty has been an inspiration to artists for centuries – Lin Hejiang, a tenth century poet is famous for having lived as a recluse on Solitary island for twenty years. And indeed, two more of China's most influential poets, Bai Juyi and Su Dongpo, served as governors here at that time.
During the Qing dynasty (1644-1911) the city became known as a popular tourist destination, much frequented by such notables as the Emperor Kangxi and Emperor Qianlong, who built a palace and important library here. Similarly, during the late twentieth century, Mao Ze Dong was smitten by its charm. He snatched moments from his hectic political life to write "Ode to the Mume Blossom", which by its very title recalls Lin Heijiang's "To the Mume Blossom", written a thousand years earlier.
Hangzhou rose to prominence as the capital of the Southern Song dynasty (1127-1279). Forced to flee before the invading Jurched, the Imperial court under the rule of the pusillanimous Emperor Gaozong (1107-1187) moved its capital southwards from Kaifeng to Hangzhou. Under the patronage of this court, Hangzhou's arts and commerce received unprecedented impetus, transforming it, in Marco Polo's words into, "a city of heaven…the finest and most splendid city in the world."
Chinese products, such as silk and ceramics, were traded for wood, pearls and handicrafts from Japan; ginseng and medicinal herbs from Korea; and spices, ivory and jewels from Southeast Asia and the Middle East. As a result, by the end of the thirteenth century, the wealthy population had swelled from half a million to nearly two million. The city became known for its sybaritic life: one resident had the floor of his house covered with tiles inlaid with silver; pets were dyed pink with balsam leaves and Hangzhou's West Lake became the focus of a thirteenth century pleasure-ground with splendid boats, restaurants and entertainers.
Seven hundred years later, Hangzhou's West Lake continues to draw foreign tourists and local Chinese to its beautiful shores.
The Nan mountains, dividing the Yangzi river basin to the north from the Xi river valley to the south, have always protected Guangxi province from unwelcome intruders. They not only shelter this tropical region from the cruelly bitter winds of the Gobi, throughout its history they’ve also shielded it from the encroachments of the Imperialist Han Empire.
From their first invasion here in the 3rd century BC until the 12th century AD, the Han Chinese considered Guangxi an exotic region inhabited by barbaric and unruly aboriginal tribes. From the Yuan dynasty (1271) onwards Imperial control was only successfully maintained by the use of force. Even today, this region, which hosts 12 different ethnic minorities, boasts a fair measure of independence. It is officially known as Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region – its largest ethnic minority is comprised of Zhuang people.
Guilin – Capital of Guangxi Province
The construction of the Ling Canal in the 3rd century B.C.E. made it possible for small craft to pass from the Yangzi river to the southward Xi river. Guilin, named after the scent of the local sweet osmanthus trees, was established in the 1st century B.C.E. on the west bank of the Kuei River, which linked the Ling Canal to the Xi River. It grew into an important trading post on the route between central China and the southern ports of Guangdong (Canton), so that under the Ming dynasty (1368-1644) a garrison was set up here. During this period, a policy of “civilizing” military colonization promoted agricultural production in Guilin’s surrounding fertile valleys.
From this time until 1949, Guilin was primarily a handicraft and agricultural center. Under Communist rule however, when industry was promoted in inland areas, factories were built here for the manufacture of chemicals, engineering, paper and agricultural equipment. Nowadays, high transport costs are driving such industries to locations on China’s more accessible Eastern coast. Forced to adapt to the regulation of market forces, Guilin is encouraging tourism and food processing in their stead.
Yangshuo
Situated 65 kilometers (40 miles) east of Guilin, Yangshuo is an ancient town that was declared a county seat during the Jin dynasty some 1,500 years ago. Nestling amidst spectacular limestone spires and towers, it has long been recognized as a wonderful retreat to enjoy Guangxi’s karst scenery. For as many generations, it has also been known for its abundant produce – particularly its oranges, tangerines, pomelos (a relative of the grapefruit), chestnuts and persimmons.
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Contact :
Margot Kong
Imperial Tours
(888)888-1970
margot@imperialtours.net
Imperial Tours Itinerary to Feature Solar Eclipse
Chasing the Sun-Eating Dragon in Shanghai
SAN FRANCISCO, Ca. (January 29, 2009) – Imperial Tours announced today that it will offer a luxury itinerary to include viewing of the longest eclipse this century from the tallest hotel in the world.
The 14-day/13-night group tour will include 5 star accommodations, all meals at world-class restaurants, domestic flights within China, ground transportation, services of local guides and drivers, gratuities, luggage handling, airport/hotel taxes and personal concierge service from a bilingual Western China Host. Guests will enjoy luxury experiences such as a private banquet on a secluded section of the Great Wall and exclusive access to a private palace within the Forbidden City.
The ancient Chinese were known to produce great noise and commotion during an eclipse, in attempts to frighten away a sun-eating dragon. On July 22, 2009, darkness will sweep across central India, Nepal, Bhutan, Bangladesh, Tibet, and China then over the East China Sea. The moon will completely cover the sun for five minutes, leaving only a golden halo. Imperial Tours has arranged for guests to experience what some astronomers say may be the best eclipse of the 21st century from the Park Hyatt Shanghai, the tallest hotel in the world.
"Imperial Tours is excited to be able to offer a private breakfast while guests observe the total solar eclipse from the tallest building in Shanghai, one of the best places for viewing in the world," says Margot Kong, Imperial Tours' Director of Sales & Marketing. "At over five minutes, this is the longest eclipse you will see until the year 2132."
The tour departs from Beijing on July 11 and continues to Xi'an, Guilin, Hanghzou, and Shanghai. For more information, call (888)888-1970.
ABOUT IMPERIAL TOURS
Imperial Tours is the leading luxury tour operator based in China offering luxury set-departure and private tours, combining local expertise with the high levels of service and quality expected by sophisticated Western travelers. Imperial Tours has first-hand knowledge of world-class hotels and restaurants as well as the history, culture, arts, and little-known exclusive destinations within China. Founded by Westerners in 1999, Imperial Tours has offices in Beijing, San Francisco, Frankfurt and the UK. For more information, visit www.imperialtours.net or call (888)888-1970.
By Guy Rubin
Centuries ago, in a cliff-face in the midst of China's vast Taklamakan desert, artists hollowed, sculpted and painted 492 caves, creating over 450,000 square feet of spectacular murals, or more than thirty times the mural area of the Sistine Chapel. But whereas the Sistine Chapel was painted over a few years, the works at the Mogao Caves began in the fourth century and were completed over the next millennium.
Given that over that thousand year period competing Imperial dynasties, local aristocracies and even foreign nations conquered the nearby city of Dunhuang, it would have been an astounding feat, perhaps even a miracle, for the painted caves to have survived the subsequent wars and mayhem. However, the Mogao caves – in spite of the unavoidable cultural differences between these different religions and peoples – did not just survive, they prospered through this period. For although rival dynasties, families, tribes, religions and nationalities dominated the area, the sheer magnificence of the Mogao Caves was so overwhelming as to prevail over any differences in its successive rulers. Rather than destroy all vestige of their predecessors, a new ruler would instead fund local artists to incorporate his image into the mythological chorus of the caves' hallowed murals. The ruler would thereby use the caves' beauty to legitimize his new administration. In this way, art served as a bridge linking different peoples to each other; the murals provided a space in which alien cultures could make compromises to each other and salve potential sources of enmity. They were used to finesse contradictions between rich and poor, between Confucianists and Buddhists and between Tibetans, Han and other ethnicities. As such, the murals of the Mogao Caves, bespeaking a universal harmony, herald the triumph of transcendent beauty over the destructive dynamic of temporal orders.
Compare this example of cultural intercourse and compromise with another of Dunhuang's famous sites – the remnants of the earliest sections of the Great Wall. This 16 foot high wall of stamped earth, reinforced with wood, appears as spectacularly random in the midst of the world's second-largest desert. Over two thousand years old, this sinuous fortification, as weathered and cracked as the gargantuan rock formations it purports to divide, now seems more a product of nature than of humanity. Even though the power and scale of the seemingly infinite desert mock the Great Wall's pretensions to mastery, it is an achievement for this human endeavor to have been constructed and have survived for so long in such a hostile environment.
On the one hand, the Mogao Caves create a space for cultures to meet. On the other, the Great Wall was intended to keep cultures apart.
From its inception thousands of years ago, the Great Wall has been a touchstone for debate on how China should deal with her fierce neighbors. Opponents of the Great Wall claimed that peace could only be assured through economic, social and political engagement with China's borderland tribes. When this policy of engagement was preponderant, the borderlands were peaceful. However, at just these times, proponents of the Great Wall argued that Chinese prestige was suffering as a result of China's continual concessions to the warlike tribes, and thus the pendulum swung the other way.
Let us leave the ancient remnants of this Great Wall to travel along the local trade route that led Chinese culture to clash for its first time with a foreign civilization. The Silk Road brought great economic and military benefits to China. The westward export of goods from China fostered terrific fortunes: silks, teas and jade products as well as such brilliant inventions as paper, gunpowder and the compass reaped unimaginable financial rewards. The eastward import of goods most importantly introduced the legendary horses of Central Asia's Ferghana valley; their speed and stamina giving China the military edge in the region. However, the benefits of this trade came at a cost, namely commercial and ideological exchange with alien peoples, societies and cultural values. The homegrown religions of Daoism and Confucianism were threatened by the eastward spread of Buddhism. Han Chinese were forced to deal with the growing military threat of Tibet and the semi-nomadic tribes of the Western regions. Meanwhile the rapid economic and territorial growth of the Chinese Empire was drawing an ever increasing diversity and number of peoples' and thought systems into its sphere of influence. There was a clear danger that this crucible of heterogeneous admixtures would so overheat as to blow the Chinese Empire asunder!
So, how did governors of Dunhuang, the wealthiest and most significant of the borderland areas on the Silk Road, deal with the challenge of managing so much diversity? To understand the factors of their successful strategy, you should firstly put yourself in the saddle of a traveler of the time.
The first time you, yourself, journey to Dunhuang, the closest you will probably come to the vicissitudes of the desert, will be in the flickering shadow of your airplane as it fleets across the pitiless expanses. However, not far from Dunhuang, at the Dunes of the Singing Sands, you can mount a camel and recreate the experience of traveling along the Silk Road two thousand years ago. Even when you are lulled into reverie by your proud-nosed camel's lolling sway, you will still feel the heat of the sun parching your skin. In your imagination, you might see yourself within a large caravan of traders. There may even be a protecting contingent of soldiers accompanying your group. However, it is early morning and the hum of the tall, shifting sands fills you with foreboding. You open your eyes to see the dunes rise out of the air before you; instantly you are dwarfed by the immensity of the desert. One foul sand storm is all that is needed for you to lose your group, your family and your bearings. You recall the stark warning of Fa Xian, that famous monk of the fourth century, who writes from this spot, "the only signs of a road are the skeletons of the dead. Wherever they lie, there lies the road to India." Though you have heard tell of brigands along the way, you now feel all too keenly that your greatest threat lies not from other people, but from nature itself.
The perennial threat of the desert hung over every oasis town, inhabitant and traveler. This constant reminder of life's transience and death's arbitrariness acted as a break on any dispute; it added a broader dimension to life along the Silk Road. Although this factor naturally calmed social unrest, Dunhuang's governors did not need to rely on it. At any given moment, they could enforce their will through a forceful military presence. The threat of their strong garrison was softened however by conciliatory cultural policies. It is the syncretic give and take of this cultural policy of engagement that is exhibited in the murals of the Mogao Caves.
In the shadowy caves (take a torch with you), there is no apparent contradiction between the thousands of Buddhas painted on the lower walls and the Daoist symbols painted on the ceiling. Nor is there one between the Confucianist veneration of ancestors on one wall and a representation of the historic Buddha running away from his family on another. Instead of analytically challenging components of each others' belief systems, the artists have assimilated all aspects of the faiths in a rich mythological tapestry. What appears irrational to one person will surely seem inspiring to another – both will agree that the representations are dazzlingly rich and beautiful.
Hegel observed that we learn from history that we do not learn from history. As we enter an age which the historian Samuel Huntingdon has characterized as being afflicted with the clash of competing civilizations, we do well to remember that civilizations have clashed many times before. They did so along the Silk Road approximately two thousand years ago, and the principle fruit of this encounter were hundreds of cave paintings of spell-binding harmony and beauty.
First published March 2003 in Culturaltravels.com under the title "A Study In Harmony".
Two hours from Beijing, Baiyangdian in summer metamorphoses from a drab swamp into a colorful checkerboard of lotus patches and fish nurseries
The sun may have taken the weather forecasters by surprise, but not the lotus flowers. Attuned to the barest climatic fluctuation, they are already on the threshold of their summer bloom.
A gathering tide of flowering lotuses is now sweeping across China, transforming seemingly destitute marshlands into scenic tableaux of white, pink and yellow. Fortunately, Beijing residents do not need to journey far to treat themselves to Nature's floral coronation. For only 150 kilometres south west of the capital, bending under a gentle breeze, sway thousands of blossoming water lilies and lotuses.
Baiyangdian is a wetland area on the central plain of Hebei province. In the summer, as its name implies, it metamorphoses from a drab swamp into a "white ocean of lakes". This 360 square kilometre marsh, criss-crossed by thousands of rivers and ditches, comes alive in a colorful checkerboard of water-based nurseries. Only the local fishermen know their way through the maze of tall reeds to the oases of lotuses and water lilies concealed within.
Gliding in a wooden punt through this sea of flowers, the sun's breath on your cheek, a hand trailing languidly in the cool, mirror-like water, your thoughts may wander from workaday to spiritual concerns. Such a reaction would be in keeping with the ancient symbolism of the lotus; it was Buddha, in similarly idyllic circumstances, who compared its growth with a person's path to Enlightenment–from lowly, sightless incipience to elevated, all-seeing maturity.
This is not to suggest that Baiyangdian affords nothing more than exquisite panoramas. Apart from the cultivation of shrimp, crabs, ducks and fish, enclosed within picturesque bamboo and net boundaries, you might want to observe the cormorant fishing here. Although the best time to do this is at dawn, when the fishermen hunt in packs, late in the afternoon you can still come upon isolated groups. On spotting a shoal of fish, the boatmen beat the water with their oars. This throws the shoal into agitated confusion and prompts the cormorant birds to give chase. Thanks to their heavy bones and lungs' small gas cells, these birds are able to dive swiftly underwater after the scattering fish. Having trapped their prey inside capacious gullets, they return them to their owners in exchange for well-deserved rewards.
While the menfolk earn their living on the water, the village women are busily engaged in a land-based cottage industry. In the village of Xilidi, women of all ages sit in the shade of a weeping willow weaving reed mats. Once the long reeds have dried in the sun, girls split them length-wise with a sharp blade. The resulting strands are passed to their mothers and elder sisters, some of whom can weave as many as two large mats a day. From the flower-lined lake shore, these mats make their way to the granaries of the north east, whence we came.
It was indeed in Xilidi that our group was privileged to receive a hearty welcome. We foreigners were overwhelmed by scores of friendly villagers eagerly offering their local delicacy — shrimp biscuits. Although relishing our first mouthful of these deep-fried, shrimp, our hosts' zealous hospitality soon all but destroyed our appetite for them. Only on condition that we accepted three rods of sugar cane and several plastic bags of lotus seeds did the villagers eventually accede to our departure. As they stood on the lake bank, waving us off, I felt quite embarrassed by their unreserved generosity.
In few places is the paradox of progress better presented than at Baiyangdian. For just as Buddhists today marvel at its wealth of lotuses so, in the past, have Mammonists salivated at its abundance of subterranean crude oil. Unlike monks however, bankers tend to discount the environment. So intense was their quarry for black gold here, that this wetland's pristine beauty was nearly forsaken for it. Many fishermen only maintained their livelihood and cormorants by relocating to China's southern provinces.
Twenty years later, the oil-men are but a sorry memory. The fishermen have returned and the lake restored to its pristine splendor. Nonetheless, the Mammonist streak lurks in mitigated form. It is heard in the tinny jingle of a fair ground installed on one central island or spied in the crenellated outline of a nearby mini-theme park.
Families may well appreciate such distractions. For those that don't, Baiyangdian is still large enough to harbor many tranquil alternatives. Enjoy at your leisure the innate wealth of its welcoming inhabitants and inspiring beauty.
Take the two hour train ride from Beijing to Baoding. A bus to Anxin leaves from Baoding train station. However, since this is infrequent you might negotiate with a taxi driver to complete the 40 km journey. At Anxin's port, there is no shortage of fishermen eager to hire themselves out. We paid ¥300 for a day's boating, but this could probably be reduced.
On the lake, travelers should ask their boatman to take them to the Dongfang hotel, run by Mr Xia Jiabin (Tel – 0312 5239105). This is on its own island within the precincts of the village of Quantou. Mr Xia charges ¥60 for a fairly basic double room with a fan but no bathroom. Since he's only got five such rooms, it's probably best to phone ahead. Although facilities are wanting, the hotel's location is unsurpassable. Its drive is a narrow canal, cut straight as a Roman road through endless stretches of reeds. Alternatively, you could stay at Anxin at the Anxin Hotel.
July 20-August 2, 2000 CITY WEEKEND