Mitali recounts the scary rides, hilariously, in China, weaving its history, culture, people and places. In this part, there are interesting flashbacks and flash-forwards, as she recollects her experiences in India, the US, Hong Kong and Singapore. An updated version of her book, In the Land of the Dragons, exclusively for Different Truths.

Mountains have a distinct look in every part of the world. The Himalayas are just grand. In Norway, the hills with their green and lakes are pretty. In Oregon, they are interrupted by lakes and waterfalls as in Lonavala. But Lonavala looks more tropical. In California, they are vast and sometimes coloured with vegetation other than green. The Lishan in Xi’an had hills shaped like pyramids – very distinctive. In Guilin, they were dreamy as if part of a Chinese painting. These are made of karst – limestone deposits that date back to the times of dinosaurs and might have been part of the ocean floor, long before India joined with the rest of Asia, creating the grand Himalayas, long before man walked these lands, long before borders were drawn. However, it was not just these mountains that drew us to this town in Southern China but also a 600,000-year-old cave with stalactites and stalagmites. We had never seen a cave with stalactites and stalagmites in real life – only in geography books and television. And the antiquity of the geography had me fascinated. 

We had a pickup from the hotel at the tiny airport in Guilin. On the way to the hotel, we saw some unusual rock formations, like a U turned upside down, and sometimes karst hills with unnamed shapes. They were like structures out of a misty Chinese embroidery or painting. We almost expected to see calligraphy on the edge of the scenery to complete the effect. These were ancient rock formations that had inspired Chinese painters for centuries. Guilin, we were told by our driver, mostly catered to the tourist industry. The flavour there was essentially local. In fact in 2009, when we checked the Internet, the only hotel we were familiar with in Guilin was Sheraton. All the others were of Chinese origin and unknown territory for us… a typical Asian breakfast of rice porridge and condiments was not a palatable option. So, Sheraton it was for us! 

Our room had a marvellous view of the Li River, and the rock formations around it were intriguing. Aditya and my husband spent considerable time photographing the scene from our hotel window. We went out in the evening, returned to the hotel, and had our dinner. There was nothing we fancied eating outside. Most of the restaurants looked threatening. There was a pizzeria, but it looked like the kind of place where you could go green in the face. However, the street outside was interesting. It had different kinds of live music being played on street corners, a taekwondo demonstration by children, and many tiny stalls selling local stuff, from silk scarves to handicrafts to fridge magnets. Within walking distance, we found a water system called the two rivers and four lakes, which had fabulous lights. There was a boat ride on it, but the wails of five-year-old Surya prevented us from stepping into a boat. He was protesting his distaste for boat rides and darkness. 

The next morning, it was beautiful and sunny. When we looked out of our hotel room, we could see swimmers in the Li River. The temperature outside was about 11 degrees Celsius! I had heard from some of my Finnish and Swedish friends that people dug holes in the ice and went swimming, and I remember watching something to that effect on TV, too. But to see people actually plunge and swim in the cold river water made me feel shivery!

We started our sightseeing with a visit to the ancient Reed Flute Cave. The caves were fabulous, but the lighting inside was a trifle garish. The stalactites and stalagmites formed a variety of pillars. There were structures like tall towers and pagodas. You could see things like cloud formations and whole townships in the palace nature built. It was strange to think that this had been used as a bomb shelter during World War II. In some places, the water was still dripping. Maybe a few centuries down the line, where the water droplets fall, there would be another new pillar. They had a light and sound show with lasers and sprays of water in what I would call the “womb” of the main cave. But nothing to beat nature! 

Outside there were vendors selling bowls made from the rocks that are found lying in the caves. We bought a couple of them and also a Chinese male angel made out of wood. We had to bargain the prices down, of course. In retrospect, one really hopes the bowl is as authentic as the vendors made it out to be. 

Then we went to the 3.5-million-year-old Elephant Rock. This is a rock shaped like an elephant on the banks of the Li River. There was a winery at the entrance, where they made the local rice wine. The smell was overpowering, and it took a lot of convincing to make the guide believe that we do not consume liquor. He was disappointed that we did not visit the winery, and we were relieved. There was a photo-shoot area where you could dress up in local gear and take photographs. Of course, my sons ran away from it while I stood and watched a pretty Chinese girl in a bright pink costume posing like a dancer for the camera.

There were men riding on tyres in the river and fishing. Later, we realised that they were just posing for tourists! There was an ancient temple there and a Ming dynasty pagoda. At the temple were guardian stone lions. Surya decided to roar louder than these silent lions and drummed up quite a racket! After the roaring and the jumping over rocks, my sons were hungry. The guide wanted us to try local food, but we insisted on KFC after our earlier experiences with different cuisines in China. I also had noticed that Guilin delicacies included silkworm noodles, horse meat, and grass snakes dipped in wine. Evidently, men drank the wine to enhance their masculinity. I guess women kept off the snake booze! The guide and driver dropped us and went off for a bowl of rice noodles, which was fine by us. 

Then we went for a ride among the Yao Shan mountains on a ropeway to get a bird’s eye view of the limestone formations that dot all of Guilin and give the city a flavour of ancient Chinese paintings. It was an exhilarating experience, except that I was a little scared, too. The chairs seated two together and one had to cling on to the handles as it slid to-and-fro between the temple on top of the hills to the ground station. There was no footrest. Down below was a long path for trekkers.

As we moved towards the hills, other people on similar chairs rode down. The scene was calming and amazing, till one of the returning chairs had a passenger who decided to hawk and spit! It was a strange sight to see the man’s spit suspended in the air. I was wondering if the spit landed on a trekker’s head, what would the trekker take it for? Bird stuff, plant drool, or human hawk – yuck! 

The view from the top was splendid, and as usual, there were temples and, unusually, lists of some kind of Chinese genealogy. We saw and experienced as much of Guilin as we could pack into a day. There was also the Li River cruise that one should not miss, but Surya was set against slow boat rides, and we did not fancy a ride with a whining five-year-old, setting the tone of our trip! 

The other place where we had a fantastic, unforgettable ride was earlier in Hong Kong. I quite enjoyed the one that took us to Lantau Island in Hong Kong, where we saw a statue of Buddha the size of a mountain. The glimpse of this Buddha from the cable car was breath-taking – isolated, quiet, calm, and cool. The ride itself lasted for more than half an hour. We saw tiny boats on the sea, cranes lifting heavy things, and the endless water shimmering in the golden sun. The journey to and from Lantau Island was really an experience I would want to relive. 

This was before the unrest set in. Now as I see the protestors on the streets of Hong Kong in television, I recall the calmness and friendliness of the local population. The first time we had gone there, around 2000 when we were still in Singapore, the feel of the city-state was idyllic.

The second time too, we faced nothing like what we see on television. What I have understood is last year the ‘Basic Law’ was enforced by China for extraditing a prisoner to the mainland and the residents felt it was an infringement on their fundamental rights and protested. The other issue is that the ‘Basic Law’ and the special status of Hong Kong will end in 2047. They will be treated at par with Chinese citizens. Right now, their special status allows them more freedom than the mainlanders. That is also a reason for apprehension I guess, at least that is what news reports indicate. 

My friends from Hong Kong in Suzhou never protested not being allowed to fly their flags, unlike the Taiwanese mothers who were vocal about being independent. Travellers to Hong Kong tell me that the protests are confined to a region and it is business as usual for the rest. The media as I saw it closely while I trained in the 1980s always does like to cover ‘news’ and not always the peace. In my journalism class, we were taught ‘good news is no news’. Perhaps, that was a compelling reason for me to quit the profession. To me, it feels that borders, politics and ‘isms’ create a more divided world than I would want for the future of our children. I still cherish the memories of our holidays back in Hong Kong. I wonder if it will ever get back to normal – post-COVID 19, post protests. 

The second time we went to Hong Kong Disneyland. Because the first time we went was in 2000CE, it did not exist. It was started in 2005. Well, you do go to Disneyland for rides! As these were not exactly my cup of tea. I volunteered to sit them out. The three men in my life, who loved these bizarre rides, absolutely insisted I accompany them on all the rides, as they do all the time. 

The worst was something called Space Mountain. It was pitch-black when the ride started. Aditya was with me, and Surya with my husband. I could see nothing, and then suddenly I was pitched into darkness and tossed like a rag doll on my seat. There was a whooshing sound and strange meteoric lights. The blackness was almost opaque. You could not see or hear a thing. We fell from a height and then we climbed to God knows where. All the time, I was terrified. My stomach churned into my head. I kept thinking if one of us fell down, we would be smashed. I was worried about Surya. I started praying and weeping. When the ride seemed to slow down a little, I called out to my husband to check that Surya was all right, and he said that the little one had really enjoyed himself! When we got down safely, Aditya was laughing at me. He recounted my reactions to his father. I was just very, very relieved to be on firm ground again. My husband said such rides are good for me as they take me away from my daily concerns. I know he is referring to what we call catharsis in ancient Greek tragedies.

The most ‘cathartic’ ride I had was incidentally where I live — in Singapore. We rode on a toboggan in the pleasure resort of Sentosa. It was anything but a pleasure to me. I wanted Aditya to accompany me, but I was forced to go totally on my own because he was considered too old to have to be accompanied by an adult. What they did not think of was that an adult might need more support on a ride like this than a child! And I had to drive and steer with other riders whizzing past. I do not drive vehicles. My baby was with my husband. When I caught a glimpse of Aditya whizzing past on his gizmo, I tried to ask him to go slower; he’s a rash driver. He should have let me go with him, but he just zoomed past. At a point, I was totally on my own with not a soul around me on a hill where only these weird vehicles zoomed – no one walked. I was scared of falling or crashing. When I stepped on the firm ground, out of what they called a luge, I was relieved. But within fifteen minutes, we started on a chair ride up the mountain so like the one in Guilin, again Aditya and me, and my husband and Surya. I did not enjoy this ride, either, as there was no footrest again. I was scared my slippers, which were flip-flops with heels, would fall off my feet and hit someone on the head. Then I was worried that I would have to walk barefoot to our car or I might get sued! In Guilin it was cold and I was wearing boots. That is why losing footwear was not a major concern. 

Another terrifying experience for me had been a helicopter ride in Maui, Hawaii when Aditya was six and Surya was still unborn. Aditya was not allowed on the ride. I sat squeezed between the fat pilot and my husband; I wore a vague smile since it was an office event and was being filmed. The three Americans behind seemed to be enjoying it. So was my husband. The view, I admit, was breathtakingly splendid. But the helicopter was noisy and rickety. I felt exposed because the windows were huge and open, and we were flying quite high. If our seat belt malfunctioned and the helicopter took a spin exactly at that point, we all could have fallen out of the helicopter. Of course, it would have been a good time to use a parachute and try the safety gear on our backs, but I’m not sure I would have come out of it alive and unscathed. The pilot tried to put me at my ease by being jolly and chatty. But I could be at my ease only when the ride ended. I knew then, as I know now, I am not meant to be a parachute jumper. 

China rolled out rides of all kinds for us. The maglev ride in Shanghai is supposed to be fantastic! This is a magnetic train that covers 40 kilometres in eight minutes — a shuttle to and from the airport from a certain point in the city. It peaked between 400 and 421 kilometres an hour for eight minutes. My husband said that there was nothing else like it. And that was a fact because this was the first commercial train of its kind in the world. Technologically, no one admires it more than me. But I always wonder what will happen if it comes to a sudden halt or the magnet does not function properly? I always felt relieved when the eight minutes came to an end uneventfully. Of course, there was always the horrible turn where the maglev keeled on its side almost as if it’s falling off its track. And if I had lunch before the ride, which I did every time, I would feel the food lurch from my stomach to my brain. 

There are also rides that are not as bad. I went for a log cabin ride on a water-based roller coaster in the Great Mall of America, and Captain Nemo’s submarine ride in Disneyland, Los Angeles. These were before kids, and not so bad – in fact, quite enjoyable, too. In Disneyland, Hong Kong, I enjoyed the ride where we rode boats and rafts through Tarzan’s make-believe jungle. There was a ride in a tunnel, not on a boat, but on a trolley, where I scored the highest by shooting the maximum number of Toy Story Zurgs while moving. My family says it was a fluke, but I say their grapes are sour because Mamma won. 

References: 

1.      https://www.chinahighlights.com/guilin/geology.htm

2.      https://www.chinahighlights.com/guilin/, 14/11/2020

3.      https://www.chinadiscovery.com/guangxi/guilin/reed-flute-cave.html

4.      https://www.travelchinaguide.com/attraction/guangxi/guilin/elephant.htm

5.      https://www.chinahighlights.com/guilin/attraction/yao-mountain.htm

6.      https://news.cgtn.com/news/2020-07-01/Why-Hong-Kong-s-return-to-China-matters-RLwUqXBli8/index.html

7.      https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-china-49633862

8.      https://www.chinahighlights.com/shanghai/transportation/maglev-train.htm

Visuals by Different Truths

Mitali Chakravarty

Mitali Chakravarty is a citizen of the world. She writes and edits with the hope of creating an equitable Earth that transcends artificial barriers created by manmade institutions. In that spirit, she runs an online journal called Borderless. She has been widely anthologised and published. Her life revolves as a mother and wife around her two sons and husband.

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