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The family home in Tèchéng and Kāipíng
Taking advantage of the cooler weather, we head out to Tèchéng Island, a small and largely flat island just a 20 minute ferry ride from the centre of Zhànjiāng. We’d been there before, by accident. I thought I was buying ferry tickets to cross the estuary as we wanted to explore the other side of the river. The ferry staff obviously didn’t think that was where we really wanted to go and put us on the boat to the island; a known tourist destination. It all worked out remarkably well as we met some of Roger’s colleagues and their families on the ferry, and all ate together at a small waterside restaurant we’d have never found on our own.
This time we take our bicycles and we’re joined by a Chinese friend, Jim. After some technical difficulties; a slow puncture and the need to install extra padding on my bike seat, we arrive at the wharf to find we’ve just missed one ferry and the next is in 2 hours. But this is China – there is always an alternative! Jim tackles the negotiation with a boat man and, for what he considers an outrageous fee of 40 yuán (about $6.50), we and our bikes, are soon on an ageing but serviceable speed boat.
Arriving at the jetty at the other end we discover we have to pay a landing fee, which, oddly, is the same cost of catching the ferry! At 3 yuán each (about $0.50) it is a small cost, but somewhat perturbing. We pay our way off the dock and cycle out into the fields of Tèchéng Island. Despite it being Sunday the fields are busy with people completing the harvest. Some are burning off stubble, some are spreading out Chinese medicinal roots to dry, on the road, and some are turning the soil with buffalo-drawn ploughs. Here and there are clusters of houses forming villages, and occasionally there is a ‘mansion’ under construction. Jim tells us these are probably built by families no longer resident in their home town. He talks of his own Father’s desire to have a home in their birthplace, which, though they visited infrequently, allowed them to provide a place for his grandmother to live and, possibly more importantly, gave them good fortune. Jim talks animatedly about his parents’ horror when their home was demolished and how they linked a string of bad luck to this event.
I remember Jim’s story when we are on another trip, further a field this time. I had been eager to get to Kāipíng, about 4 hours northeast of Zhànjiāng heading to Guǎngzhōu, since we arrived in Zhànjiāng a year ago. We had seen pictures of some intriguing buildings called diāolóu, or watch tower, dating from the early 20th century. These defensive towers are a mix of Chinese and Western architectural styles and have been recently placed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. After several aborted plans to visit we final find 3 free days and have identified the bus time and departure point. Waiting at the bus station, luggage, maps and phrase books in hand, we are told our bus, the one bus a day to Kāipíng, has broken down! There is a solution; take the bus to Guǎngzhōu and get dropped at the toll gate at the Kāipíng motorway exit, some 20 km from the centre of town. A trip that should have taken 4 or 5 hours takes 8! However having finally made it we have a glorious, if cool, day for our trip to the surrounding villages in our rented mini van, with a driver of course. In no time we see some towers, they are littered all around the region, some 3000 I have read, but many are decaying, ‘modernised’, or built out by other properties so are next to impossible to view. Yet a few villages have taken advantages of the heritage listing and are making tourist attractions out of their homes. While this alters the untouched charm of the towers it does provide a much needed impetus to protect and maintain them.
Walking into one tower, maintained by the Chicago branch of the family, I find the floor plan is derivative of many traditional Chinese homes; a central lobby, that originally would have been the courtyard and family altar room, which is flanked by 2 living rooms. However behind the normal position of the altar is a stair that leads up to another 4 floors. The altar has been relocated to the top floor, where there is also a lovely terrace looking over the rice fields. While the layout is Chinese, the decorations, inside and out, are heavily influenced by Western architecture. In this example, and not typical of other towers, black, classically embellished, timber panels line the walls with etched glass inserts incongruously depicting Chinese scenes. More common are floors painted to look like Victorian encaustic tiles and wall frescos that seem to have come straight from Italy. Classical columns, domes, arches and balustrades adorn the top floors and terrace. I can imagine the expatriate Chinese builder returning to his home town from America, where he struggled to make his way in the new world. The elaborate and soaring buildings of the late 19th Century American city are still vivid in his mind as he plans a tower to display and protect his wealth, and, just as Jim’s family feels, to provide him with the good fortune of a presence in his home town.
Taking advantage of the cooler weather, we head out to Tèchéng Island, a small and largely flat island just a 20 minute ferry ride from the centre of Zhànjiāng. We’d been there before, by accident. I thought I was buying ferry tickets to cross the estuary as we wanted to explore the other side of the river. The ferry staff obviously didn’t think that was where we really wanted to go and put us on the boat to the island; a known tourist destination. It all worked out remarkably well as we met some of Roger’s colleagues and their families on the ferry, and all ate together at a small waterside restaurant we’d have never found on our own.
This time we take our bicycles and we’re joined by a Chinese friend, Jim. After some technical difficulties; a slow puncture and the need to install extra padding on my bike seat, we arrive at the wharf to find we’ve just missed one ferry and the next is in 2 hours. But this is China – there is always an alternative! Jim tackles the negotiation with a boat man and, for what he considers an outrageous fee of 40 yuán (about $6.50), we and our bikes, are soon on an ageing but serviceable speed boat.
Arriving at the jetty at the other end we discover we have to pay a landing fee, which, oddly, is the same cost of catching the ferry! At 3 yuán each (about $0.50) it is a small cost, but somewhat perturbing. We pay our way off the dock and cycle out into the fields of Tèchéng Island. Despite it being Sunday the fields are busy with people completing the harvest. Some are burning off stubble, some are spreading out Chinese medicinal roots to dry, on the road, and some are turning the soil with buffalo-drawn ploughs. Here and there are clusters of houses forming villages, and occasionally there is a ‘mansion’ under construction. Jim tells us these are probably built by families no longer resident in their home town. He talks of his own Father’s desire to have a home in their birthplace, which, though they visited infrequently, allowed them to provide a place for his grandmother to live and, possibly more importantly, gave them good fortune. Jim talks animatedly about his parents’ horror when their home was demolished and how they linked a string of bad luck to this event.
I remember Jim’s story when we are on another trip, further a field this time. I had been eager to get to Kāipíng, about 4 hours northeast of Zhànjiāng heading to Guǎngzhōu, since we arrived in Zhànjiāng a year ago. We had seen pictures of some intriguing buildings called diāolóu, or watch tower, dating from the early 20th century. These defensive towers are a mix of Chinese and Western architectural styles and have been recently placed on the UNESCO World Heritage List. After several aborted plans to visit we final find 3 free days and have identified the bus time and departure point. Waiting at the bus station, luggage, maps and phrase books in hand, we are told our bus, the one bus a day to Kāipíng, has broken down! There is a solution; take the bus to Guǎngzhōu and get dropped at the toll gate at the Kāipíng motorway exit, some 20 km from the centre of town. A trip that should have taken 4 or 5 hours takes 8! However having finally made it we have a glorious, if cool, day for our trip to the surrounding villages in our rented mini van, with a driver of course. In no time we see some towers, they are littered all around the region, some 3000 I have read, but many are decaying, ‘modernised’, or built out by other properties so are next to impossible to view. Yet a few villages have taken advantages of the heritage listing and are making tourist attractions out of their homes. While this alters the untouched charm of the towers it does provide a much needed impetus to protect and maintain them.
Walking into one tower, maintained by the Chicago branch of the family, I find the floor plan is derivative of many traditional Chinese homes; a central lobby, that originally would have been the courtyard and family altar room, which is flanked by 2 living rooms. However behind the normal position of the altar is a stair that leads up to another 4 floors. The altar has been relocated to the top floor, where there is also a lovely terrace looking over the rice fields. While the layout is Chinese, the decorations, inside and out, are heavily influenced by Western architecture. In this example, and not typical of other towers, black, classically embellished, timber panels line the walls with etched glass inserts incongruously depicting Chinese scenes. More common are floors painted to look like Victorian encaustic tiles and wall frescos that seem to have come straight from Italy. Classical columns, domes, arches and balustrades adorn the top floors and terrace. I can imagine the expatriate Chinese builder returning to his home town from America, where he struggled to make his way in the new world. The elaborate and soaring buildings of the late 19th Century American city are still vivid in his mind as he plans a tower to display and protect his wealth, and, just as Jim’s family feels, to provide him with the good fortune of a presence in his home town.
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