Chinese Rafting
In China, the first week in May is use to celebrate “Labor Day.” This is a
vestige of the old Communist practice of using May Day to celebrate the
workers of the world and to have parades celebrating military hardware.
Nowadays the Chinese government gives students, teachers, and workers the
week off work for Labor Day as a chance to travel and visit family.
This year, instead of using this Labor Day holiday to celebrate workers of the
world my fiancee, Becky, and I were invited by fellow Peace Corps Volunteers
Robbie and Judy Peters-Wren to accompany them on a “rafting competition” on
the upper reaches of the Yangtze from Yunnan down to Panzihua, where Robbie
and Judy live in Sichuan Province. It proved to be an interesting time.
We arrived in Panzihua on the evening of April 30th and then went to register
for the race on the 1st of May. The organizers of the race put all the
teams up in a hotel in western Panzihua. Usually organizers of events such
as this competition treat the participants like visiting royalty and we
expected no less here. We expected all sorts of VIP behavior and banquets.
While the VIP behavior was in effect, the food provided was uniformly
horrible. It was presented in a buffet type forum and the Chinese just
can’t do buffets. Actually, as far as I can tell, the United States can’t
do buffets either.
Anyway, on the 2nd we participated in the “time trial.” There were
approximately 50 teams altogether, including five other teams of foreigners
of American, German, and Japanese persuasion. About 35 teams were men’s
teams and the remainder were women’s teams. We were considered a men’s team
even though we had two female team members. We were also assigned a “cox” (a
term that provided us with much merriment) who in most places would have
been considered a river guide to see us through the more treacherous waters.
Some of the Chinese teams were sponsored by local businesses and others
consisted of professional boat rowers from ferries farther up the Yangtze.
Considerable pomp accompanied the beginning of the race. The streets
between the hotel and launching area were lined with people cheering the
motorcade of competitors as we went past. When we arrived at the launching
area there were bands, marching bands, drummers, minority dancers, and small
singing children. There was even a hot air balloon and water-skiers, both
dubious propositions in China. No less than the Consulate General of the
United States in China was there. Robbie, Judy, Becky, and I were
interviewed by numerous television stations and newspapers. Robbie recited
the athlete’s pledge not to cheat and to maintain public order. At one point
the coverage surrounding us grew so intense that a competitor from Hong Kong
leaned over and said, rather bitterly, “The only reason they are paying so
much attention to you is the color of your skin.” Well, duh!
The time trial consisted of a 25 kilometer race right through the middle of
downtown Panzihua and the object for us was to finish in the top twenty of
the men’s teams. Panzihua is kind of like the original Third Line city,
meaning that during the Great Leap Forward and Cultural Revolution the
Chinese relocated industry from the east to the mountains of the west and
places like Panzihua to hide from American and Russian missiles. It’s a
newly built city (a city of million that didn’t exist before 1964) nestled
in the mountains of Southwest Sichuan that contains huge industries.
Panzihua manufactures something like 99% of China’s titanium and tungsten as
well as large amounts of steel and other things needed to make a country run.
Rafting through the
middle of Panzihua was something like rafting through the middle of
Pittsburgh in the 1930s. Slag heaps run straight into the water and noxious
fumes waft across the surface. Huge cooling towers and smokestacks belching
yellow smoke were visible pretty much the entire course of the river. Not
too much of the natural grandeur that accompanies float trips in the West.
Oh, and since Panzihua is located in the Yangtze river valley, it was hot –
like 90 degrees hot. We spent about two hours rafting through this industrial
apocalypse before reaching the end of the “time trial.”
Since we wanted to qualify for the big race, we paddled hard and by the time we were finished
we were quite tired. It turns out that we finished 17th out of all the mens
teams. It doesn’t sound all that impressive but we did beat all the other
foreigners and most of the teams that beat us consisted of larger teams made
up entirely of men. And we met our goal of qualifying for the main race.
The next day was a rest day. The rest of the teams went to tour a huge
hydro-electric project on the Yalong River and to see a flower endemic to
the region. That really didn’t sound exciting to us so Robbie, Judy,
Becky, and I returned to Robbie and Judy’s apartment and watched old
episodes of “Friends” on DVD all day.
On the 4th of May we traveled with all the other teams who qualified up to
Yunnan to begin the final leg of the race. We were repeatedly assured that
we would not be rafting on the 4th, just traveling to the village where the
race would begin. Sure enough, we had to raft on the 4th. Since we had
expected to spend the day riding in buses we didn’t wear our rafting gear
but changing from my street clothes into my rafting gear did afford me the
opportunity to get naked in front of a crowd of Chinese villagers.
Fortunately, the rafting on the 4th only lasted about half an hour during
which time we joked and played with other teams as we went through a series
of minor rapids to the village where the rafting race would officially begin.
The name of village where the rafting would begin was Wangbi. Wangbi is 71
kilometers upstream of Panzihua and is reached by a combination of driving
and rafting. It actually took longer to get there by driving than it did to
raft down to Panzihua the next day. Wangbi is a village of a couple of
thousand and is populated primarily by members of the Lisu, Bai, and Yi
minorities. Outside of this rafting competition, I don’t think a whole lot
happens in Wangbi but when it comes to the rafting competition they pull out
all the stops. We arrived there about 3:00 pm and were greeted by women in
minority dress flinging water on us and giving us cups of rice wine (real
wine, not the rotgut that usually passes as wine). The village elders put
Robbie, Judy, Becky, and myself up in the local school house.
After we got
settled and explored the village a bit we went to dinner. The simple dinner
provided was much better than what was served at the hotel and was also much
more lively. We started drinking bowls full of wine and before long we were
singing songs (“Dixie” since Robbie and Judy are from Mississippi and
“Silent Night” because we couldn’t remember anything else) and playing
drinking games with the mayor and other important personages of Wangbi
village.
Several bowls of wine later, we went out to the beach where the
rafts were and where the village had several bonfires going. We danced like
pagans around the bonfires while the villages who weren’t dancing launched
fireworks that exploded directly over our heads. Every time we tried to
quit dancing we were pulled back into the circle by enthusiastic natives.
Finally, we got away and stumbled into bed around 11:00 pm as the party
continued to rage.
We all awoke the next morning psyched for the final portion of the rafting
competition. The official name of the competition was “The International
Drifting Competition for the Preservation of the Environment of the Mother
River.” As the sole international representation in this portion of the
competition we fully intended to take the “Drifting” part of the competition
seriously and to relax our way down the river. The Chinese teams showed
that they were taking the “Preservation of the Mother River” part of the
competition seriously by tossing empty packs of cigarettes and empty cans of
“Red Bull” energy drink into the Mother River.
We got started about 9:00 am. By 10:00 am we had been passed by every other team. Like I said, we
were taking the “drifting” part quite seriously. The entire time we were in
Panzihua, people had been telling us how dangerous the rafting was going to
be. Class III rapids crashing between the walls of giant gorges and
whatnot. It turns out that we were disappointed. While there were some
“rapids” on the upper part of the course they were not anything very
impressive, not anything that we couldn’t have done in a canoe. The scenery
on this part of the trip was quite nice however. It really reminded me of
central Arizona. Arid hills composed of volcanic rocks and red dirt rose
from the river. Periodically we’d see a herd of goats or donkeys guarded by
a lone shepherd. Occasionally there would be villages and hamlets of adobe
build into the sides of the hills. It was an awfully nice place to drift.
Unfortunately, about 30 kilometers into the course, the water stopped
moving. Literally. This put an end to our drifting plans. If we intended
to reach Panzihua by the time darkness settled we would have to paddle. So
paddle we did. And did. And did. The rafts that we were using weren’t
exactly made for long distance flatwater paddling so after the first hour we
were quite tired out from pushing this rubber donut across uncooperative
water.
Nevertheless, we persevered and about 3:30 we pulled on to the beach
at the end of the course. We were the last team to make it. In fact, all
the judges and people that had been posted at each “rapid” as rescue workers
had passed us. If we had intended to do anything except drift I suppose we
would have been disappointed but as it was, we were just sunburned and
tired. As we stumbled out of the raft on to the beach the people had been
waiting for us handed us bottles of nice, refreshing SALT WATER! The Chinese
can be kind of weird.
The next morning, the morning of the 6th of May, we receive a phone call
telling us that we had received the “Spirit Award.” Otherwise known as the
Foreigner Consolation Prize. So that evening we went to the award ceremony
at the Panzihua municipal stadium. Us and about 50,000 Chinese folks. The
award ceremony was quite a big deal. The winning teams were each awarded
30,000 yuan, the second place teams 15,000 yuan, the third place teams
12,000 yuan, and the forth place teams 10,000 yuan. As winners of the
“Spirit Award” we won a trophy.
The award ceremony was also a rock concert. China’s biggest rock band, Tang Dynasty, played as well as Black Puma (bar rock), Flower (three chord punk rock) and X-Boy (a boy band). To top it
off, between the bands Black Puma and Tang Dynasty about fifty women got on
stage and go-go danced to really loud techno music.
A Chinese rock concert is one of the stranger things on this earth. It’s a family event. There
were babies pooping on the field and old women with no teeth and wearing
pajamas in the crowd. Once the music begins audience stands still, as if in
a trance until one of the band members begins to wave a plastic glow wand.
At that point, the entire audience also begins to wave plastic glow wands in
unison. Comparisons between plastic glow rods and Little Red Books would be
counter-revolutionary, I suppose. At one point during Black Puma’s set
(Black Puma looked like a bunch of gas station attendants who got lucky
enough to perform their bar rock in front of 50,000 people) a girl ran up on
stage and handed the lead singer a bottle of orange juice. The lead singer
opened the bottle of orange juice, took a swig, and dumped the rest over his
head. Really weird.
Chinese rock music tends to be rather derivative and
the bands tend to be put together by the state to fill a particular niche.
In fact, if you were to substitute “corporations” for “the state” it would
resemble the American music scene.
One of the best things about the show
was not the music but watching the audience behave bizarrely. Tang Dynasty
was actually quite good. Live, their music kind of reminded me of a cross
between Pink Floyd and Dire Straits. In a foot note, when we took a train
back to Kunming late that night, all the bands were on the train with us.
Tang Dynasty, the biggest rock band in China, that quite possibly has more
fans than the Rolling Stones, travels hard sleeper. Being a rock star in a
state owned stable has its drawbacks apparently.
That night we took a train back to Kunming. We had planned on training it
back to Liupanshui later on the 7th but so had a ton of Chinese people and
the train was sold out. Big tragedy. That meant spending an extra day in
Kunming eating Dai and Italian food. Kunming has this excellent Italian
restaurant called Rocco’s. Rocco’s is located in the bird and flower market.
It’s tucked away in an old (1884) Chinese house that in turn has been a
residence and a hotel for bird traders. The owner, an Italian fellow named
Rocco, has the place decorated beautifully with all the original wood and
artwork. The food is delicious. He makes his own mozzarella cheese, pasta
and the ingredients are, of course, fresh.
The next day Becky and I took a
train back to our home in Liupanshui, tired and grateful to have survived
our encounter with the mighty Yangtze and the population of Panzihua.
