March in the Homeland

Due to unexpected delays, this post is actually more timely now than originally planned. On this date exactly one year ago, I had just finished my visit to my birth city and parental hometowns. The photos from my trip sat on my hard drive for a whole year until I started writing this post.

Millennium Lucky Bell (千年吉祥钟) in Yellow Crane Tower Park (黄鹤楼公园)

My initial reaction at first review of the photos was the familiar sigh and groan at the sheer volume. I try not to be too trigger-happy when shooting but it's easy to lose track in this digital era. I did a quick scan and filtered out the ones I liked most. However, on my second pass, I felt this sinking feeling in my chest.

These were my first couple picks (that I still really like):

Historic sites and an ancient village (古镇)

But the sinking feeling was this weird sort of delayed shame. There were historic reenactors at one of the historic sites but all the photos I picked were of actual people going about their daily lives. I felt disconnected, invasive and intrusive. I felt like I was one of those bad tourists -- you know, those privileged kind that travel only to indulge in the exoticism and "foreign-ness" of a place, to compare and contrast with the modernity of their regular life. I felt extra shame that I might have behaved this way in my own home town.

The next photos quickly showed me how foolish I was to have those thoughts. The sprawling cityscape of dazzling lights and high rises... I had loved the tranquility of walking through the villages, but this view of Chongqing had me absolutely blinded.

Hongya Cave (洪崖洞) under the Qianximen bridge (of the Twin River Bridges)

close-up! reminds me of Spirited Away by Miyazaki

We walked through all of Hongya Cave and also drove across to see the view from the other side (first photo). We stayed until they turned all the lights off (which they actually do at 10pm) but made sure to stay and enjoy every minute of the flashing display while we still could.

The common criticism of such speed of modern advancement is that it comes at the expense of nature. Throughout this trip, we saw both urban and rural areas, including some national parks, and I have some thoughts on the cultural differences when it comes to paying respect to Mother Nature (大自然 lit. "Big Nature"). *In my opinion*, western culture's approach to nature is focused on preservation: nature is beautiful, don't touch it, just appreciate it from afar; whereas in China, the approach is more about presentation: nature is messy and ugly, but we can fix that so we can all enjoy it. For example, all the lakes we've seen have "pool cleaners" -- folks who constantly paddle around on a boat to skim garbage and debris out of the lake. In the Golden Sword Gorge (photo below), there are ledges built throughout to provide a stunning hiking experience. Certain areas are so perilous that they provide an earthquake helmet in case you bump your head on any of the lower hanging rock formations.

Golden Sword Gorge

I even got to see wild monkeys for the first time in my life! There are no animals native the gorge so a handful of these fellows were imported in to roam around freely.

look at the baby! 

My most vivid memory from this trip was just how quickly the sentiment changed from "oh neat, monkeys!" to "OH CRAP, MONKEYS!!!" I wish I had some photos but there's a real panic that sets in when a wild animal decides it's mad at you, and you can bet real money on me running faster than I ever have in my entire life.

Overall, it was a really amazing trip for me, especially since my uncles and aunts were such incredible personal tour guides and we saw so much in just under a week. But at the same time, it was a hard visit as well. I was with Nick for the first time instead of my parents, and three of my four grandparents had passed since my last visit. I was anxious to see my maternal grandmother but decidedly more anxious to be visiting the grave sites of my other grandparents.

Lanterns from the Chinese New Year celebrations were still left up as we were approaching the Qingming Festival, also known as Tomb/Grave-Sweeping Day. On the radio, there were constant reminders of the impending visit and street vendors were everywhere selling incense and paper money. Coming out of a long winter and a stressful period of work, I could feel these triggers stirring all the emotions I had previously bottled up inside. At the Chongqing graves, I felt some tremors, but my cousins kept me distracted with their lighthearted conversation. But when we got to my paternal grandparents' graves, I was inconsolable. I wanted to speak but no words came out. My mind was underwater, drowning in the tears I had kept inside for so long. One of my aunts, whether or not she knew the weight I was feeling, suggested we take a walk in Love Lake Park (遗爱胡公园) to take in the many spring blossoms.

The Creation of Adam but in blossoms

It was a perfect day and the park was large enough for me to wander and get lost in my thoughts. I thought about how nice it is to actually have a spring season and if only Ottawa could have one too. I thought about how my name represented my parents' hopes for me -- to not bloom temporarily like a flower, but to thrive like a leaf (叶欣).

I thought about how I made it through another season of the coldest capital in the world, and how this really is the birth of the new year -- not in January in the dead of winter -- but this, springtime, when everything, including me, is struggling to push itself out of the cold, hard ground and into the sunlight, into the warmth, and how all of this is part of the cycle of nature. I would continue to grieve for my grandparents again and again but for that brief moment, I felt at peace.