Countryside Capitalism

A weekend trip to Yangshuo, in the Guanxi Zhuang Autonomous Region (the province south of Hunan), brought me first-hand exposure with the much sought-out culture of the Chinese countryside. Specifically, it's ancient Taoist villages and the culture of the Zhuang people, China's largest minority group, for which the province is named after.

Bathed in diversity both socially and geographically, China is a land of spectacular views and enriching experiences. There is enough hidden treasures and mystery here to keep a traveler occupied for several years, if not a lifetime.

Traveling by night train to Guilin, a city of 670,000 in the north of Guanxi, you are met by the colorful cast of characters that make up this huge and assorted country. With dialects as far flung as the nation's numerous ethnic origins, China's train system, specifically the hard seats, are one of the most up-front ways to experience daily life in China.

Crammed with sunflower seed-spitting Grandmas and cigarette puffing farmers, the trains are crowded and noisy. Cabin lights relentlessly beckon your mind to stay awake until well after 1 a.m. The child sitting on his mother's lap next to you, stares with a constant case of wonderment and surprise. Knee-buckling brakes and faulty air-conditioning, remind you of how far China still has to go.

As with anywhere in China, speak a little of the local language and you are met with accolades of smiles and a favorable reply of "Your Chinese is very good."/Ni de Zhongwen hen hao in Pinyin. Even when it is obvious it is not.

However, it is the Chinese countryside, it's villages, farmers and livestock, that have for centuries grown the products that have fed and clothed the world. The rice fields of Yangshuo and such ancient villages such as Yima, XingLong, JiuXian and ChaoYang are filled with crops such as oranges, cotton and rice. The latter occupying most of the land.

Century-old irrigation ditches quench the soil of this humid and steaming farmland. The karst limestone scenery of Yangshuo's physical delights, inspires photographers of both the foreign and domestic kind.

The bamboo raft rides, come with pit-stops for food vendors and local photographers, each trying to sell you something. In a way, this sort of eco-Splash Mountain, these rides, like other experiences in the countryside, are indicative of the reach of China's capitalist mentality.

In the village of Moon Hill, a tourist trap about 25 kilometers from Yangshuo, we are charged not only for our rice at dinner (which is pretty much a free staple given in every meal in China) but also for the plastic-wrapped plates that we used to eat off of. It seems that in China, a price can be put on everything and anything can be put up for sale.

It is this sense of capitalism, this sense that even the most rural of farmers can make a buck getting you to take a picture of their doorway or livestock, that is alarming and questionable about China's quest for economic dominance. It seems that there is no limit to the extent of what can be bought and sold here, which creates an ethical and personal paradox.

With that sort of national mentality, it is no wonder that human trafficking, organ harvesting and illegal animal trading, have gone unmonitored. Most people in China seem to not blink an eye at the hundreds of exhaust fuming tourist buses rushing people from scene A to scene B.

There is a cost to all of this consumption. It will be most noticeable years from now, in the long-term effects China's industrial revolution is having on our planet. For now, it seems that no part of the country is safe from the long arm of capitalism. While this creates and stimulates, given money to people that would never have dreamed of it before, it also deteriorates and demoralizes. Thousand year-old customs and traditions are now just another tourist opportunity. New roads and construction, to see once isolated villages, wreak havoc on fragile ecosystems in some of the world's most beautiful sites.

Still China churns on, seemingly unaware and unapologetic. It's natural wonders, too numerous to capture, invite investment, tourism and pollution. All of it is done in a quest to keep with the wishes of the dragon's people. All is done, as the Chinese unwrap their new possibilities and adventures, like a child at Christmas.

Upper-end of the Chinese Spectrum...or Defining "Real China"

You hear the term "authenticity" thrown around a lot over here. "I want the authentic Chinese experience," is what they say. The truth is that the China of Kung-Fu wielding monks, dragons, opium dens and rickshaws is fast disappearing, if not gone already. Those were the types of things movies were made of, at least Quentin Tarantino movies. Anyone expecting that experience should check it at customs or at least bring a good shovel, because you will have to dig for it.

China concentrates its energy and its wealth on 10 percent of the population. At least, that is what I have heard via CNN. 90 percent of the population lives outside of the cities, meaning they receive less money. This (not-coincidentally) is also the China not advertised by, um, you guessed it: the government. What you get is a new classification in the Chinese social system: the migrant worker.

These masses, funnel into cities like Shanghai, Beijing and Guangzhou. They search for work and a better life. They fill jobs such as high-rise window-washer, recyclable-bottle-picker-upper, or "massage therapist". In China, it appears that there is no middle class. You either have it or you don't.

What I have also found is that there is the "actual rich", and the "poser-rich". The latter, predominantly, 18-23 year olds, wear one good outfit over and over again. The same time, they may spend their holidays sleeping in the park because of a lack of money. It makes you wonder where the priorities are. Why do these people spend 300 RMB on a pair of pants and not a hostel room? Or an education?

China is a land of money and it has an insatiable appetite for getting it. Money makes the country go round and since it has a centralized government, that means, many people get left out. This was brought into focus as I saw the upper-side of the socio-economic spectrum this past National Holiday.

My first extensive travel experience in China brought me to Shanghai and Hangzhou. Shanghai with its ultra-modern subway system and glossy skyscrapers, could make a native New Yorker do a double-take, but this city of 15 million lacks something that puts it on par with the world's other great cities.

A soul, or at least, a non-manufactured one, seems to be lacking here. Through the Haagen-Daaz and the ubiquitous Starbucks, Shanghai was absent of anything that made me want to cling to its spectacular views from The Bund. After being at first overjoyed at the cultural opportunities, I was then sickened. I felt a good deal of relief when I left the city after 3 days. I mean, there is just something about overweight middle-aged British men and their young Chinese girlfriends that makes you queasy after a while.

While Shanghai still holds onto a bit of that sleezy port-town image that made it so famous in the early 20th century, it is not the China you would expect. Shanghai is the epitome of what the Chinese government would want every Chinese city to be: high-tech, ultra-rich, ultra-Western. English was everywhere and so was high fashion, Big Coffee and contemporary architecture.

Though the British and French concession still give Shanghai much-needed historical charm, it is not the place for me. I found it to not to have the style of New York or the upbeat mood of Chicago. For all it's glitz, it lacked the excitability of Las Vegas. For all its bright lights shimmering on the water, it lacked the romance of Paris. Shanghai was a good first test, it was good to get it out of the way.

While Hangzhou is just as "well-to-do" as Shanghai, the city that Marco Polo once quoted as "paradise", lived up to the hype. The incomparable West Lake mystifies the city, despite its commercialization on the west banks. The neighboring tea fields were quite pleasant and much less crowded. Even with millions crowding near the city's down town, the fields were nearly vacant and you could even spend a few minutes alone, without being gawked at or hearing another voice. The gardens, the flowers, the tea leaves and the local tea farmers, made Hangzhou one of the most memorable cities I have ever been to. Even though it would fit in that upper echelon of Chinese financial success, I would gladly go back.

I want to get as diverse an experience in China as possible. Culturally, socially and economically. Shanghai brought me the first taste of stratification and I can't wait to see the rest. The city I live in, Changsha, is right in the middle. It really is the epitome of what China is right now. Old and new, side by side.

However, I look forward to searching for more of those bad kung-fu movie type settings and characters.