Look beyond the tall buildings; China, is all heart & soul

Day One: the otherwise buzzing Indira Gandhi International Airport looked deserted on that “blue” Wednesday morning I was to board a plane to China. There I was, accompanying my father—a businessman with several China offices—on one of his regular business trips. The plan had seemed brilliant when I had first concocted it; emotionally blackmail my businessman father to let me accompany him on one of his trips to China. But there I was second guessing; time in the country also meant hours cooped up in my pater’s office; could that be a laugh riot? Not really. Our first stop was to be Guangzhou. When the departure time for the Guangzhou-bound Southern China Airline flashed on board, I was hit by a familiar, pre-flight churning. For a well-travelled boy, I remained, strangely enough, physiologically ill-equipped for air travel. I knew it would not be long till my insides would rise and sink with the plane. I desperately sought for distractions and found it too, as I walked towards the boarding gate where I spotted a bunch of young travellers, who looked as if they were from China (at least, I hoped they would be). The bunch were desperately trying to decipher a Hindi signboard stating prasthan (departure). To earn travel karma, I helped them out. My small gesture led to me to befriend the travellers (indeed from China!). Soon we were talking of the Indian languages—my new-found friends expressed their exasperation and admiration on the number of languages we had. One thing led to another; before we knew it, the conversation had veered towards the Indian Railways (stranger things have happened). Not to be outdone, my friends gave in their two-bits about the China Railways. As our conversation continued on board, soon, I actually had a plan; one which freed me from the confines of my father’s office. With my friends’ advice, and browsing through a copy of China Travel Guide which my father always carried with him, I knew that I would travel on the China Railway and do my own version of a cross-country tour starting from Canton or Kwangchow—a city dotted with skyscrapers. It is easy to confuse the energy of Canton with the other thriving metropolises of the world; say a New York. But, like most cities in China, Canton, too, manages to keep its “China soul” alive within its mostly westernised districts. I got off at the Tianhenan Metro Station and bought a ticket for Guangzhou Opera House Station where I was to start my journey. The station was dotted with food kiosks and I stopped right in front of good-old McDonalds—I admit that was pretty desi of me. I had just helped myself to some fries and cola when a voice announced that my train was to depart in the next 30 seconds. My journey had started! Before we start; facts about the Chinese metro lines; the Zhujiang New Town Automated People Mover System Metro Line was installed two years ago. It is the most expensive one within the network. I boarded my eight-coach, Bombardier-made (yup, like our very own Delhi Metro) train at the Tiahenan Station. My air-conditoned, exceedingly plush coach was deserted, giving me the opportunity to sit in all its seats as the train flitted forward with an incredible speed. Soon, a voice announced my arrival at the Guangzhou Opera House Metro Station. The opera house, right in front of the station, shimmering in the morning light, was rather grand. Designed by Zaha Hadid and Sir Harold Marshall, it is regarded as the most high-tech and bestfacilitated comprehensive performing arts centre in southern China. It has a multiplex of modern amenities— and more importantly, amazing food. Though I did not get a chance to watch a show or sample the fare, the building enchanted me. But, I was not there to satiate my architectural appetite. I had other err... other frogs to fry! No literally! On board I had heard my friends rant about the Cantonese delicacy of frog legs; steamed or fried. I am an “every-vore” (yes, I coined the term) and I left the opera house on the reverse rail heading to Shipai Village via Tianhenan to the flourishing commercial centre, where the best frog legs were apparently available. The Shipai Village is like a food park meets a flea market. If you like eating, browsing or shopping, you could spend hours there. But I was too hungry to browse. So my first stop was a Cantonese food kiosk. Without even looking at the menu I ordered steamed frog legs on lotus leaf with a bottle of cola (just in case the first time experiment proved to be unpalatable). When my steaming plate arrived 10 minutes later, I sat admiring it. Though the first bite was hard, the meat was melt-in-mouth, and the taste was reminiscent of my granny’s mutton dish—a sumptuous and enjoyable meal. The just-in-case cola stood there untouched, till the very end of the meal, when I sipped on it while staring at the Chinese artefacts. There were the usual deal; cast iron, stone or Plaster of Paris statues of Lord Buddha, and Ying Yang charms. One of them caught my attention enough to make me part with 27 RMB. The shop lady assured me that the ones selling here were all “real” unlike the other bazaars (especially Wuangzhou) and for the sake of the money, I chose to believe her. I sauntered through the market stopping to drink the refreshing herbal tea and nibbling at plum pork chips. Bliss! My final destination was the Pearl Tower (pater to the rescue). The view from the top of the Tower was breathtaking. My day ended at the Guangzhou Science City; a township full of towering concrete mountains with corporate logos and digital fairy lights. Day Two: Shenzhen. The Guangdong ‘through’ train connects Guangzhou to Honk Kong via Shenzhen. The early morning first through-train took less than two hours to reach Shenzhen. Before I left, my father warned me that Shenzhen was nothing but a large electronic market. I did not really care; I longed to buy a new iPhone and headed straight for Shenzen Electronic Complex—a small city in its own rights. Crowded with electronic dealers, it had everything. And when I say everything, I mean everything, even a digital bottle opener and an instant dough-maker which I bought for my mother. Shenzhen’s e-marts were reminiscent of Chandni Chowk, with salesmen yapping away and making brisk sales in rapid Mandarin. When I finally bought my iPhone, I kept asking whether it was indeed “real” to which there were tremendous amount of eye rolling (I am Indian after all). At the electronic mart, I met Kim (her Chinese name was too complicated and she liked being called Kim). Kim became my impromptu guide and took me to a new part of Honk Kong, integrated with Shenzhen, which had its own little cultural space—the China Folk Cultural Village. The village was a like a fairground of some 56 ethnic groups in China. It showcased the traditions, art forms, and artefacts of the groups in small kiosks. Finally, my father was there to pick me up; and the two of us bid goodbye to Kim as we boarded the Guangzhou- Shenzhen-Hong Kong High-Speed Train to the Hong Kong International Airport, which was to be our final destination. A snippet here; as I was browsing books in one of the many stores in the airport, a sign slashed above it. As I struggled to make sense of the Mandarin, a Chinese girl helped me out. She said that the board read “farewell”. And I did so with a heavy heart.