Vignettes of the World
Once described as the First Villa of the Far East, the Former Residence of the Chairman of the Republican Government provides an intimate glimpse into the lives of Chiang Kai-shek and his wife Soong Meiling. Nanjing called it fondly as the Soong Meiling Villa, as …
The Ming Filial Tomb (Ming Xiaoling) had historical significance on China’s imperial burial rites. The architecture and formalities of the Ming emperor mausoleums preserved some features of their predecessors. Yet in breaking many new grounds, the Ming Filial Tomb established itself as a milestone development …
Despite having done some research, I made some critical mistakes on this trip. Although I did learn that the museums of China (all over the nation) close on Mondays, I did not know that it includes the Dr. Sun Yatsen Mausoleum. Furthermore, the staff told me that even if I had gone on other days, I must first register online before securing entrance to the Mausoleum. Needless to say, I had not done prior registration.
I just paid ￥100 as the entrance fee within the Zhongshan Mountain National Park (also known as Purple Gold Mountain, Zijin Shan), where Dr. Sun Yatsen’s Mausoleum is located. I asked the staff, what then did I pay for? He said the ￥100 covered four paid areas within the Zhongshan Mountain, including the Soong Meiling Villa, the Ming Filial (Xiaoling) Tomb, the Music Stage and the Linggu Temple.
There was furthermore ￥50 extra for unlimited tourist cart rides to key destinations within the Zhongshan Mountain area. Having spent a full nine hours in the national park that day, I would say both the entrance fee and the unlimited rides were essential for this trip.
It was 8:30 in the morning. I figured that I should still enjoy the day in Zhongshan Mountain to the best I could. So I hurried on and took my first ride to Dr. Sun Yatsen’s Mausoleum. Yes, it was closed, but I must pay my respect however I could.
On March 12, 1925, Dr. Sun Yatsen lost his fight against liver cancer and bid farewell to the world. He died in Beijing. Yet even as early as 1912, he has expressed his wish to lay in final rest in Nanjing, then the capital of the Republic of China. The Zhongshan Mountain was selected because he expressed this wish when he was on a hunting trip here. “Let Nanjing be remembered as the home of the Provisional Government,” he said to his followers.
Tourists would first walk through the center gate, which features the words “universal love” inscribed on its top beam. From the center gate, there was a long path, gradually inclined, leading up to the steps of the Mausoleum. I have heard that the hike up the Mausoleum was rigorous. It was the trail of history.
The morning was bright. Because the Mausoleum was closed on Monday, there was not yet a crowd. As a result, I was able to take some photos at the steps of the Mausoleum Gate (Ling Men) without fighting for a spare spot. After advancing on the steps, I reached the closed gate that kept all tourists away.
Looking up to the four words on top of the center arch, meaning “the world belongs to the public,” I bowed. The writing was recognizable as Dr. Sun Yatsen’s own. The phrase was his signature. I have finally come to pay respect to the great leader that made modern China. Next time I would do better planning.
On the days the Mausoleum opens, the tourists would then proceed to the Tablet Pavilion, then the Ceremonial Hall, the marble statue of Sun Yatsen, and finally the Tomb Chamber, which remains closed to visitors.
The funeral committee of Dr. Sun Yatsen has settled on the site of the Mausoleum with the selection of the location made by Dr. Sun Yatsen’s wife, Soong Qing-ling. They then sought architectural designs by calling for a competition. A young architect Lu Yanzhi won the competition. He has designed the layout of the Mausleum grounds in bell shape. It symbolizes Sun Yatsen’s name (Zhongshan) with the word “zhong” also meaning bell in Chinese. Furthermore, the Three-People Principle that Dr. Sun Yatsen advocated was the sound of an alarm bell in times of change and turmoil in Chinese history. The funeral committee then procured the construction materials from abroad. They imported stones, granite, concrete, marble etc. – all of the highest quality.
Dr. Sun Yatsen’s Mausoleum took six years and 2.2 million yuan to finish. As the Mausoleum completed, although some structures (including Dr. Sun Yatsen’s marble statue) and construction remained to be done, the nation laid Dr. Sun Yatsen to rest. On 1st June, 1929, the nation held the grand funeral for Dr. Sun Yatsen. It was an official state ceremony with attendance by heads of the foreign powers. Thousands of Nanjing residents lined this same pathway that I walked to bid farewell.
In the turbulent years after its completion, the Mausoleum has suffered damages from the Sino-Japanese War and the Cultural Revolution. Yet the respect of the Chinese people have for Dr. Sun Yatsen has never died. He is a figure that is held to heart both by the Nationalist Government and the Communist Party of China.
When I exited the center gate, I noticed a small observation area tucked away on the side of the main road. There I paid a small sum of money to see the inside of the Tomb Chamber. I noted then the emblem of the Nationalist Party of China inside the structures that I did not get to visit that day. It would be the only place in all of mainland China that any mention of the Nationalist Party could legitimately stand and show.
Works Cited:
There were two reasons why I visited Zhan Yuan (Zhan Garden). First and foremost, it was only in Zhan Yuan that one could find an exhibition devoted exclusively to the history of Taiping Rebellion in China. Secondly, Zhan Yuan itself is a site of significance. …
Having learned that the museums of Nanjing are closed on Mondays, I was determined to visit the Memorial Hall of the Victims in Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders in Jiangdongmen on Sunday, my second-last full day in Nanjing. For it was one of the main …
When travelling solo, I am always aware of the ebb and flow of my mood. There is a kind of rhythm, a leap of the heart at the excitement of observing unfamiliar scenes and appreciating similarities at the same time. Unforeseen circumstances, be it bad luck or bad planning, can cast a shadow over the trip.
The heat was getting the better of me this afternoon, and I was very tired and miserable. That was, until I visited the Presidential Palace.
The Presidential Palace had a historic presence in Nanjing. Its oldest sections began as early as the Ming Dynasty in the 14th century. It has served as the offices and residence of the Liangjiang Viceroy during the Qing Dynasty. When the Taiping Rebellion captured Nanjing and named it the capital, this site was the throne room of the Taiping Heavenly King Hong Xiu Quan. During the Republican period, the Nationalist Party took over the building to serve as the government headquarters, thus naming it the Presidential Palace. Under the Japanese occupation, the venue served as the headquarters of the puppet government, which Wang Jingwei headed. When WWII was over, the Nationalists once again named this site the Presidential Palace until the Communists took over in 1949.[1]
This long history was a lot for me to learn, but thankfully the exhibitions inside the many halls and assembly rooms in the site explained amply to the tourist. The exhibitions covered the history of the Presidential Palace under the Qing Dynasty (focusing on the life of Zeng Guofan, a Qing Liangjiang Viceroy known for the Westernization Movement), the Taiping Rebellion, and the Republication period till WWII. The huge crowd there prevented me from taking time at the exhibits, however. The enormous site was barely big enough for all those tourists. Eventually, I gave up and decided to visit the outlaying gardens and lakes instead. Before leaving, I visited the former residence of Sun Yatsen in the northern center of the site. I have always admired Dr. Sun Yatsen.
Exiting the Presidential Palace, one finds a tourist attraction of a markedly different character. The 1912 is a hip bar street with many establishments to choose from. I decided to sit down with a cold drink before the next destination. Sitting across from me was Sunny from Canton. She thought I might be a southerner by the way I spoke mandarin.
She told me about her life working in Nanjing. Even though her family has a small restaurant in Canton, she decided to work for a trading company. She thought she must learn all the skills first before one day she takes up the family business. The company has not provided a fair arrangement for her, and she was thinking of changing jobs. Before we said goodbye, she told me a crucial bit of information: the main attractions in Nanjing are closed on Mondays.
This chanced meeting with a Cantonese girl restored my spirit. I was ready to head out to the Fuzimiao area to see the Qinhuai River.
Many tourists flooded Nanjing on this long weekend of Ching Ming Festival. Perhaps the Fuzimiao (Confucius Temple) area was the epitome of China’s appetite for the tourist economy. The whole area was built to the looks of ancient Chinese structures to elicit a sense of the historic. The original Confucius Temple in the area was long ago destroyed in Nanjing’s unfortunate historical events. What was standing there was not a historic relic but a structure of the 1980s. Properly understood, the area was a tourism project that drew enormous crowds looking for food and shopping.
Worthy of note was the celebration of ancient China’s top scholars (zhuangyuan) at the pavilion across from the former site of the Confucius Temple. Every year’s top scholar made public appearance at the top floor of this pavilion, although according to my guide book it was not clear if this structure might have been a rendition from the 1984 restoration project.[2]
There was a long line for the tickets to the Qinhuai river boat. I was determined to see the Qinghuai River, for the Nanjing people considered it the life blood of the city. That said, the area was known to be the “boys’ playground” since its revival in the Ming and Qing Dynasties, all the way until the Japanese occupation. “Pleasure boats” brought rich and powerful men to this area for secret meetings. Stories of the eight beauties of Qinhuai celebrated the gifted courtesans that could paint, play music and write poems. They entertained their guests by performance only.
The Qinhuai River has inspired many poets in the past. Tang Dynasty Poets like Du Mu, Li Bo and Liu Yuxi have written about the Qinhuai River. Some impressed readers with scenes of prosperity; while some wrote about the romance; still others lamented the rise and fall of dynasties that the river witnessed.
The 45-minute boat ride came with a lecture on the history of Qinhuai River. There seemed to be a story at every turn of the river, at every bridge that we passed under, and at every street that lined the riverside. I was amazed, as this very water flowed with history. With the best of intentions, however, I was not able to focus on the recorded lecture. Soon enough, I found myself absorbed by the scenery before me. Before my eyes were images of the river’s glorious past.
I ended the night doing what tourists did. I had all the Nanjing street food that I wanted, and bought Nanjing souvenirs. Despite the disastrous first half, the rest of the day was wonderful, and I came back to the hotel satisfied.
[1] Eric N Danielson, Nanjing and the Lower Yangzi, The Definitive Travel Guide at 89-90.
[2] Id. at 118.
The afternoon was bright and it was becoming very hot. I headed to the southwestern part of the city looking for food. The plan was to visit the Memorial Hall of the Victims in Nanjing Massacre by Japanese Invaders in Jiangdongmen after lunch. I was …
I booked this trip to Nanjing in April 2019 for a brief three-and-a-half days, originally hoping to relax. If not for this blog, I would not have pushed myself over the limit on this trip. I walked so much that my feet swelled. On my …
It was only in the Xuanwuhu Tunnel that I noticed flashlights about once every ten seconds or so. I asked the driver what those were.
“Those are cameras. They capture the cars that pass by, thereby tracing the movement and direction of every car in the city.”
“Only in the tunnels?”
“No, all over Nanjing City. They are on all roads, you didn’t notice?”
Indeed, I did not notice. From the airport to the city, I rode on the airport bus. Under broad daylight, I simply did not notice cameras flashing. The airport bus dropped me off at Nanjing Train Station, I then caught a cab to go to my hotel.
When I asked for a cab ride, the cab drivers pointed me to this driver. I told him that I wanted metered taxi. He said, either meter or by negotiation. He quoted ￥40. When I got into the cab, there was simply no meter. Too late now, I thought to myself, ￥40 and so be it. This was what the Chinese people call “cattle car (huangniuche).”
There was quite a bit of conversation on this 15-minute ride. I asked about the famous Xuanwu Lake, and the driver told me that we would be going around the Lake, via the Xuanwuhu Tunnel, to arrive at the hotel.
“So, in fact, these cameras are for surveillance?”
“Surveillance and control,” he replied in Mandarin.
I noticed that he kept saying “OK, OK” in his mid-sentences. I figured that even though I spoke Mandarin, he thought of me as some sort of a foreigner, and the only English speech that he could do was “OK.” It was quite humorous. Maybe I spoke Mandarin like a foreigner does. It has been almost twenty years since I lived in Beijing.
The first impression of Nanjing was how neat and orderly it was, and I judged it so by the way that the travelers’ baggage were handled at the airport. There was no employee at the pickup carousel. When the baggage came out, someone has laid them orderly for pickup already, with a uniform spacing in between each and the handles on top. I was impressed—the way that Nanjing welcomed its travelers certainly surpassed that of Hong Kong.
I said that it must be so nice to be living in Nanjing city. The driver said, “well, it is a second-tier city.” I asked him what the first-tier cities were. He said, “you know, Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Shenzhen.” I assured him that Shenzhen was in no way comparable to Nanjing.
There are about 8 million Nanjing residents. Adding 2 million people from other provinces (waishengren), the population of Nanjing is about 10 million. When I learned that, I thought Nanjing is a major city. Only when I was visiting the city the following days did I fully appreciate this figure and its consequences on daily life.
The driver showed me some key transportation along the way, pointing me to the metro stations, the bus stops and introducing me to the surrounding areas. I sensed that he thought there was no need to do taxi’s at all in Nanjing.
There was an inkling in my heart that I should tip him some, but for some reason, I ended up not doing so. That turned out to be wise. I learned on the last day of my trip (the only other time that I took a taxi) that a metered taxi on the same journey, and with traffic, would only cost ￥25.
This driver made one of my first impressions of Nanjing. He was a man of the street, knowing the city very well and maneuvering the roads with great ease. He also knew the lone female traveler’s gullibility. It would be fair to call him Old Nanjing (note: not to suggest that the Nanjing people are deceitful, as they certainly are not). I was actually glad that I met him. The conversations were priceless.
It would be too late to visit the Xuanwu Lake that early evening. I opted for a sumptuous dinner at the famous Lion Bridge (Shiziqiao) food street. I will write more about the food of Nanjing in later entries.
What a wonderful first day.
By Ha Jin It was an emotional experience reading this book. Told from the perspective of Anling, a foreman at Jinling Women’s College in Nanjing, the narrative pries open one of the most painful chapters in modern Chinese history—the Rape of Nanking. The story begins …