Wednesday, October 12th

EXTRACT FROM “WILD SWANS” BY JUNG CHANG

“…I TRIED TO THINK WHAT [MAO’S] ‘PHILOSOPHY’ REALLY WAS. IT SEEMED TO ME THAT ITS CENTRAL PRINCIPAL WAS THE NEED – OR DESIRE? – FOR PERPETUAL CONFLICT. THE CORE OF HIS THINKING SEEMED TO BE THAT HUMAN STRUGGLES WERE THE MOTIVATING FORCE OF HISTORY AND THAT IN ORDER TO MAKE HISTORY ‘CLASS ENEMIES’ HAD TO BE CONTINUALLY CREATED EN MASSE.”

“…THE OTHER HALLMARKS OF MAOISM…WAS THE REIGN OF IGNORANCE. BECAUSE OF HIS CALCULATION THAT THE CULTURED CLASS WERE AN EASY TARGET FOR A POPULATION THAT WAS LARGELY ILLITERATE. BECAUSE OF HIS OWN DEEP RESENTMENT OF FORMAL EDUCATION AND THE EDUCATED, BECAUSE OF HIS MEGALOMANIA, WHICH LED TO HIS SCORN FOR THE GREAT FIGURES OF CHINESE CULTURE,  AND BECAUSE OF HIS CONTEMPT FOR THE AREAS OF CHINESE CIVILISATION THAT HE DID NOT UNDERSTAND…ART, ARCHITECTURE AND MUSIC, MAO DESTROYED MUCH OF THE COUNTRY’S CULTURAL HERITAGE.”

The dorm at the Hongsheng Hotel has mattresses on the floor and eight sofas. I awake at 9 am from a deep, if somewhat uncomfortable, sleep on one of the sofas. Linda and I walk up the street to the Bank of China, where I change £100 in traveller’s cheques. The street is busy with people on their way to work, and again, as I did when we arrived yesterday, I notice that we are really in China now, as opposed to the Uyghur-dominated Kashgar.

It is autumn here in Ürümqi, and that season’s muted colours are predominant, mixed with the colourful but unstylish Chinese clothes. From the bank, we walk around to the giant Holiday Inn, where, in palatial surroundings, we sip coffee and write. The Holiday Inn is nearly new and is still immaculate and well cared for. Several Americans wearing ID tags appear to control things, as is proper for a chain hotel with a reputation to maintain. Without strict control, the place would soon deteriorate. 

After a couple of hours, we walk around to the Renmin Park, entering without paying—there is no attendant—through a pagoda-covered gate in the wall. The park is virtually deserted and contains a lot of concrete, as do most Chinese parks. There is a boating lake where a few paddle boats are half-submerged in the dull water. We follow the concrete pathways along through the trees, which have almost lost their leaves. The park is drab and slightly tacky but is peaceful and quiet. People pass by carrying bunches of flowers which they have taken from the summer garden being pulled out by a group of workers. 

We stroll through the amusement park, where paint peels from strangely decorated rides, which are modelled on long-outdated images of spacecraft and creatures from space. We sit for a while on a concrete bench beside a pagoda built on an island in the boating lake. Trees overhang the water, upon which fallen leaves drift slowly ahead of the gentle breeze which blows from the north. A pair of lovers canoodle on a bench across the water from us. A few families stroll along the edge of the lake, their forms reflecting brokenly in the water. 

We lunch in a tiny dumpling joint in the Hongshan Market. The power is off and we eat the dumplings by candlelight, washing them down with fragrant tea. The market is vaguely interesting for its stalls selling assorted pickled things, but not interesting enough for us to linger long. On the way back to the hotel, we visit a large department store, where we buy some writing paper and pens. 

Later on in the evening, we adjourn to the showers for a shampoo and…, then eat again at the same dumpling joint where we ate the previous night. Late into the night, we have to listen to the naive burblings of a young Australian who appears to know nothing about the world. Outside, the wind screams at the window. One of the problems of sleeping in dorms is that you have to listen to the conversation of fools, and this is what now keeps me awake. Four young Swedes and the young Australian are in the dorm, and their inane conversations are very annoying. 

The Swedes are naïve and stupid. They don’t want to eat meat, MSG, or anything from the street. They have packs full of food from home, and buy bags of tinned food from the store. Listening to them talk, they know nothing of the religion, culture, or politics of any of the countries they visited. The Australian is just plain stupid. Earlier, he had asked Blue and I to explain how water is heated. Now he blathers on about subjects he obviously knows nothing about. “All the people here in Urumqi are Muslims”; “there are 150,000 Muslims in Indonesia,” etc. He is trying to sound erudite, which he probably does to his Swedish listeners, but in fact sounding just like what he is: a prat who knows nothing. It makes my head hurt.