Awaking before the sun rises is generally seen as an obscurity for youths, and I can honestly say that I fit this stereotype. It was 5.15am, well below 0 degrees outside of my window, however it wasn’t an entirely horrible experience. Puddles were frozen over. Condensation about, rain drops bleeding down the glass. The wonderful sight of snow on ledges and roofs. Snow, how I love it so! Just two days prior to this particular morning, Shenyang experienced it’s for snow for this autumn/winter season, and I for the first time in my life.
I remember the initial sighting. My 10.30am class. The head teacher is called Rau. Hilarious woman. She often gives me packaged Chinese foods, like spicy peas and milk tea. Good lass. So, this class was concluding, with a ye olde rendition of ‘B-I-N-G-O’ playing, performed by myself and the 3 to 4 year old children. I gaze out the window for no reason apparent to myself; but much to my delight, and bewilderment I see snow falling simultaneously with rain. Ohh, it was a sight to see. I got far too excited and stopped singing, instead yelling, “SNOW!” “It’s snowing.” As well as various other word combinations; all alluding to the same fact. The teachers, clearly not as impressed as myself did not run to collect their coats and wander outside to experience, well, the snow.
I was quite speedy in putting on the apropriate attire and collecting the necessary materials- case in point- umbrella, however, I did not want to be self-centered at this moment, I wanted to share my joy with others, namely Jessica. So I waited for her to prepare for our outside adventure. After what felt like hours of her doing so, we went downstairs, but to my disappointment snow was no longer.
Later that evening, I was sitting on the couch in our apartment when I look out the window, and visible beneath the light of a street lamp, I see it is snowing once again. It definitely was necessary for me to take a short walk to the shops and purchase some consumer goods at this precise moment. I did so with such an intense smile. You can make your own inferences.
So back to this morning on the 13th of November 2010. Dressed to impress, I walked outside, in none other than canvas shoes. Bad move, but the only one I could take in the shoe wearing department.I have winter boots now though. My feet were wet instantly, but as I repeated throughout the day when the sludginess of my feet became apparent, I remarked upon how they glimmered like a pair of shoes Lady Gaga may possibly wear. We caught a taxi to the bus station, but made a quick pitstop to McDondalds prior, to fuel up for the day. Can I just say as a side note, with no vanity intended, I ate my hot cakes remarkably fast, so much so, indigestion was feared by those surrounding me.
Boarded the bus, with no time to spare (hence why I ate the hot cakes so quickly, we were running late for a very important date). The bus ride was supposed to be 3 hours, but was extended to 3.5 due to the crazy snow and rain. I consistently dozed off during the bus ride. But for the initial half of the trek, we passed lovely mountain scapes of white snow. I do wish I was awake for the moment, or many moments when the snow just dissappeared. That would have been nice.
Where did this bus take us? I’m sure that must have crossed your mind by now, right? Well, I shall dispose of the suspense right this moment. Dandong. A smallish city in Eastern China. Why did I use body effort to transport myself here? Well, ‘Linnea the Swede’ (That’s like her viking name) had one of her friends visit Shenyang, and Shenyang, as much as I love this city- for tourists, wanting to do touristy things whilst in China, 2 days would suffice. Yes, so Dandong was ideal. None of us Shenyangers had been there. It was reasonably close. There was supposed to be a reasonably untarnished segment of the Great Wall to climb and views of North Korea by a ferry.
We had high hopes for Dandong, but upon our arrival, hopes were disintegrating one by one. The first necessary thing to do was to purchase our bus tickets back to Shenyang, but due to the weather conditions, this was not possible. “Okay, so let’s catch a train back.” After braving the windy and wet streets of Dandong- I cannot emphasise how wet- for some time period which escapes me, we discovered the train station. Purhcased our tickets (at a cheaper price) for later that evening. And set off on the day’s adventures. But there was some confusion as to what the days adventures would be, as it was like monsoon weather. Would the Great Wall be open? Did the ferry sink yet?
Lunch was the next appropriate, and logical step at 11.40am. Dandong had the most lovely people. So helpful. Being foreigners and all except one of us knowing what amounts to no Chinese; having a smiley face, or Chinese people trying to utilise your knowledge of the English language with theirs, it’s quite nice. One woman was ever so kind, and lead us to the bus station which takes you to the Great Wall. I sometimes do wonder how that day would have gone without Emily, who I can proudly say is Australian and on another level, a fellow Adelaidean. She knows Chinese. Amazing.
As the bus to the Great Wall drove further out of the CBD, the rain began to subside and what appeared to be a beautiful 4 degree day was awaiting us outside. The Wall was, as stated in several guide books, quite untarnished. Moderately steep and surrounded by brown trees. Autumn is a grand time. There is this unique feeling when you walk the Great Wall. I don’t know exactly what it is, therefore I cannot put it into a sequential set of words. But it’s nice. Simply, nice. The views from this part of the Wall (called ‘Hushan’ or ‘Tiger Mountain’), were vast and far-reaching. You could see the city. The empty, desolate fields. Shadows of mountains. And a beautifully coloured, but clear sky. The further we climbed, the more I could feel my respitory system failing and altitude rising.
At the top of the wall, a South Korean gentleman made note of the fact that North Korea was just behind us. You couldn’t see much of this secluded part of the world, perhaps a dangy-looking village in the distance. I do remember looking down and seeing a river- very small- presumably the end of the Yalu River, which seperates the P.R China and North Korea. Docked by the river we saw boats. It is not wrong to assume that we presumed these boats to be the ferry ride which allows you to see a glimpse of North Korea. Other western teachers who had taken the ferry ride had explained it to be a nice cruise which allows you to see a ‘staged’ exhibition of North Korean workers. That did not look like this boat ride, but maybe further up the river we pondered? These boats were old. Made of wood. In the distance it was ambiguous as to whether it was motorised or man powered. Either way, we wanted to see North Korea.
What would life be without risks? They make life interesting, they keep the adrenaline rushing and regrets at a minimum. I should make note of the different degrees of a risk, some are harmless, some are harmful and some may seem harmless but in reality, turn out to be harmful. Catching this boat ride to North Korea, beforehand, it’s risk value did not even cross my mind.
So we made our way down to the boats. First reading the rules you must abide by upon taking the boat. Pay close attention, I am paraphrasing though. Apologies.
1- Do not communicate with the people on the other side of the border.
2- Do not swap or exhange goods with people on the other side of the border.
3- Do not cross the border.
The boat driver had a very thick Chinese accent, but by immense luck a South Korean gentleman could understand it and was able to do negotiating on our behalf. There were like 12 westerners, and 3 South Koreans on this boat. Dingy little thing, but it served it’s function more than fine. There was a small layer of black water on the bottom of the boat. Not sure why it was black. So yes, made our way down the river, quite slowly. Taking pictures of North Korea, which from our viewpoint consisted of a small slope of yellowish grass and some willowing plants, and a fence at the top. I remember seeing North Korean soldiers near a tree and was quite chuffed by that sighting alone. They shook their hands as to say ‘no photographs’. So we put our cameras down. It gets better.
I was on the opposite end of the boat to the Koreans, so I only recieved hearsay. But I kept hearing from my friends, “give this guy five yuan (not even one Australian dollar, and the boat ride itself was 10 yuan, not even 2 Australian dollars) and we’ll be able to take pictures of the guards.” Quite excited by this prospect, we handed our money over.
Three soldiers were standing by a broken part of the fence, presumably fixing it. We attempted to take a few photographs of their existence but the driver waved his hands to disband. I remember this moment quite vividly. The sky was a vibrant orange in the background, making the soldiers perfect silhouettes. One of the soldiers took out his gun and pointed it towards the boat, making a shooting action. I must have looked paralysed at that moment. Afterwards I could see his head move in syncronicty with the direction of the boat, until we were out of sight. I guess he doesn’t like westerners.
The next tangent in which tried to explain what our money was for, was that it would be given to the poor in North Korea. Which we were all happy to support. But this ideal became suspect when the Korean gentleman began waving the money at some guards further down the river. Then the boat headed in the direction of those guards. It was a series of mixed feelings we felt here, a crossfire of excitement and anxiety. The Korean gentleman that liased with the boat driver and had our money, jumped off the boat as soon as it docked, running towards the broken gate supposed to be enclosing North Korea. We were all quite confused by his body actions. His eyes searching for soldiers. Arms waving several 5 yuan notes in the air. HhhhhhhhvjgjSFDUHHhHHe was running at times- looking fearful. Then he would turn around to us smiling. It was at this point I touched North Korea! I placed my hand on it’s soil. Merely because.
After no success on that front, the boat began heading back, but two soldiers were almost running, (perhaps you could say a light jog) after the boat. So we turned back, logically. And finally the use of our money was revealed, it was to give to the North Korean soldiers. From what I understand from readings in Australia, North Korea is a very poor country, hence why they risk their lives to accept foreign money and food. I recall when Vaishale gave one of the guards a bread item she purchased earlier that day. He put it in his jacket and looked about with such suspicion. He eventually shook all of our hands but I think it wasn’t so much out of gratitude, but compulsion. It still meant quite a lot to us westerners. After the excitement died down, we went back to town- to a Canadian restaurant for dinner. I got a ham and cheese toastie (not to be taken for granted ever again), and blueberry tea. Yes, you read correctly Allie Borgelt.（It was splendid by the way）
On a Chinese computer I cannot read any information about North Korea. Every internet page concerning it, is censored. So are Western blogs and just about every social networking sight known to man. As are images of Toy Story (the films), weather pictures, giraffes- all on Google.
I suppose you could say I have been discussing taboo topics (by Chinese standards) of late. With some teachers that took me out to dinner, (hotpot, grand times) I was enquiring about their opinions on Mao Zedong, and why he is so revered. What they know about Facebook, Twitter and Youtube censorship; internet censorship as a whole. About Chang Kai-Shek, and the nationalist party. Taiwan. The Japanese. The Dalai Lama. Tibet. The Uyghur region and peoples. The Chinese Government itself. If they know what a democracy is. Things I probably shouldn’t.
This is their modern culture though, and I want to know their opinions. It’s interesting. Google got kicked out of China last year I believe and is rarely used at my school. But ‘Baidu’, which is a Chinese created search engine that pro-actively cooperates with the Chinese Government on it’s censorship policies is the most popular. Even despite it turning up the most useless web results. Be thankful for your freedoms, they may not be written into our constitution, but at this moment in history they exist and they are something to fight for.
I remember during the dinner I asked one teacher why she personally disliked Japan. Her explanation was basically due to their mutual history. This appears to be an institutionalised reason amongst most Chinese people. Understandable though, Japan was an imperialist power that controlled an extensive amount of North-Eastern China during World War II and prior. Interestingly enough, the Mukden incident in the 1930’s which is seen as the first occassion when Sino-Japanese hostilities broke out during that period, occured in my home city, Shenyang. The ‘Rape of Nanjing’, I do believe is the key reason and what occured there is easily on par with the atrocities of the Holocaust
She did however go on to explain how Japan refuses to acknowledge it’s committed actions and in it’s history books. In fact, makes no mention of them. This is when my fabricated-history radar went off. It bewlidered me how they can be so critical and knowledgable of the Japanese falsifying their history, but not their own. Comparatively, her reverence of Mao Zedong and his actions beyond the 1949 revolution are equally the same. She is taught to love him, but not as to why. And I assume this love is taught in history books, consolidated by parents. It’s equally as blind though. One reason she did provide for the reverence was that Mao drastically improved Chinese labour laws. What about the crazy agricultural policies he instigated which resulted in a 3 year famine killing millions? Bit 1984-esque wouldn’t you say? To even out the playing field, one Chinese person I have spoken to admitted to some of Mao’s faults, particularly during the Cultural Revolution.
I love it here. Be adventurous today.
Tyler Gleason
