Tis the season to be jolly

With covid sweeping unhindered in Beijing, I caught the virus mid-December, which was rather unpleasant and tiring. More distressing: it prevented me from hosting guests for celebratory pre-Christmas dinners and the music we were supposed to sing for the third Sunday of Advent service went unsung because nearly all the singers had caught covid! 

So I was releaved to get out of morose Beijing on 17 December for a few days of duty travel to Hong Kong. It was an opportunity to meet up with my brother and sister-in-law, whom I had not seen in the flesh since June 2019! We shared many delicious dinners in the restaurants which were reopening after the Hong Kong covid spell of last spring. I even enjoyed the rather kitch Christmas spirit pervasive throughout the city: Christmas decorations and lights, carols suffusing out from all the sound systems of malls and lifts, gourmet goods and ingredients in the shops and supermarkets. All these things were sadly missing in Beijing this past month.

The weather was wonderfully sunny during my six days in Hong Kong. I went out for a hike in the new territories with my brother. I took a day off to roam around town and on the bay. The skyline is always impressive and uplifting.

 

 

 

I have now arrived back in France for Christmas with my parents and the rest of my family.

 

 

Deck the halls with boughs of holly
Nana Mouskouri, Christian Christmas songs

While thus we agree, our toast let it be

One of the activities I have taken most pleasure in during my time in Beijing has been singing with a group of men in an octet. I created the octet with seven other singers from the Deutsche Kantorei Peking: four tenors and four basses. We call ourselves "The deep side" of the Kantorei.

We have been rehearsing regularly for small projects linked to the German evangelical church, or to produce our own concerts in bars around town. We sing an eclectic repertoire of music going from Renaissance to modern arrangements of popular music; we explore the German-, French-, English-language repertoires, with some attempts at traditional songs in exotic languages such as Basque. 

Most important for me, this group is also a source of companionship and good fun. Apart from the singing, we also take the opportunity to share a meal and drinks at each rehearsal and after our concerts. 

Not only do we enjoy singing, eating and drinking together, but our audiences also enjoy our performances. We still have to work on knowing our parts better so as to lift our heads out of the scores and interact with our audience; we are told this eye contact is still missing. We will be working on it for our future gigs. We already have two producers who want us to sing again in their venue. 

Despite covid sometimes preventing all eight singers to take part in an event, those who are left still keep singing with glee!

The Anacreontick Song
J.S. Smith, The Hilliard ensemble, The singing club, Harmonia mundi

Where have all the flowers gone?

Yesterday I visited Yuanmingyuan, the Garden of Perfect Brilliance*, in the northwest of Beijing. It is part of the complex of summer palaces built by the early Qing emperors from the 17^th century. Here, the rulers and their court came for green scenery and fresh air outside of the central Forbidden City. Like the more famous Summer palace complex just to its West, Yuanmingyuan was destroyed by French and British military troops in 1860.

Entering the complex from the East gate, I took a quick look at the map of the garden and saw there were lots of palaces and temples marked out. I eagerly started my visit. I first strolled through the section featuring the remains of the imperial palaces built in Western-style architecture. When visiting historical sites in China, I am often disappointed by the general practice of reconstructing or refurbishing old heritage buildings so that they look very colourfully new. This makes for good photo opportunities but I personally find the historical patina more attractive than vivid colour contrasts. In Yuanmingyuan, the chosen archaeological principle seems to be radically opposite to what I have seen in other Chinese historical sites. Only the baseball-pitch size walled labyrinth among the Western-style structures had been reconstructed to its original appearance. The marble columns, doorway capitals and balustrades were all that were left of the other palaces. I moved on to the much larger complex of traditional Chinese architecture buildings.

I first circled the convoluted lake of Changchunyuan, the Garden of eternal spring. The whole surface of the lake was covered by a sea of lotus, their large leaves like plates balancing on the top of a field of twirling poles. The lotus blooms had already wilted off. I had to imagine what a sea of lotus blooms could have looked like at the beginning of the Summer.

For the next three hours, I wandered through a very large garden with nothing much to see other than the foundations or floor plans of illustrious old buildings. Sometimes, there was just a green field or a small hill with a signboard in front of it indicating this was the location of a former early Qing dynasty palace. The signboards were sometimes just 50 meters apart. This place used to be densely built up with palaces, pavilions, temples and man-made gardens. And then it struck me: the choice not to rebuild the structures to their former glory was probably the wiser one to make the visitor imagine how vast and grandiose this Imperial Summer palace must have been and realise how stupid mankind is each time it irremediably destroys a part of its own priceless cultural heritage.

* Thanks to Josh D. for the poetic translation

Where have all the flowers gone
Joan Baez

There, above noise and danger, Sweet Peace sits crown’d with smiles

 

Since I have come back to China in February I have not been able to leave the municipality of Beijing because of very strict covid prevention measures in China. With the situation coming back under control I have finally managed to leave Beijing for a long weekend in the coastal southeastern city of Xiamen.

It was wonderful!

 

 

I must admit that it rained all four days that I was there so the weather was extremely humid, and so was everything one touched. However, the strong downpours made the day-time temperatures more bearable than if the sun had been shining strong. 

 

The hot humid weather, the sound of heavy rain falling on the roof and streets, the lush green vegetation, the seaside air, the mix of colonial and modern architecture, clean streets and public toilets, the delicious local food specialities and seafood, the sound of Hokkien spoken by the older folks... It all reminded me of Singapore. So I felt very much at home on Xiamen island and on its Gulangyu islet.  

 

 

Strolling and getting lost within the array of narrow streets of Gulangyu with its early-20th-century buildings was very soothing. I enjoyed walking for hours without a goal while knowing that I would certainly come accross something very interesting and without ever getting lost on this small islet. At random moments, one would hear the sound of a piano being played in one of the houses or numerous music schools.

 

Sipping several of the local tea brews was one highlight of my stay. Fujian is very famous for its teas.
Sipping tea while admiring old buildings;
sipping tea by the seaside;
sipping tea in a Zen garden:
I had time to reflect on my current situation and plan for other travel projects in China. 

 

 

There is a country far beyond the stars
C. Hubert Parry, Songs of farewell, Choir of Trinity College Cambridge, Conifer

I want to break free

After five weeks of home leave in France, I have managed to fly back to China. I had chosen Shanghai as my port of entry because the municipality had until very recently the friendliest quarantine rules for newcomers into China: 14 days of strict quarantine with medical observation in a hotel room followed by 7 days of self monitoring and free to roam within Shanghai.

I have just completed my 14 days of quarantine. The hotel dedicated to the quarantine of diplomats in Shanghai has the advantage of its majestic views overlooking the Huangpu river. I was not fortunate to get a CBD Pudong view, but the northern side view was still interesting with cargo ships cruising by and the regular crossing of ferry boats. The lounging armchair in the bedroom was particularly welcome to sit by the window and enjoy the view.

My daily meals were delivered to my bedoom door three times a day. The fare was of good quality, varied and nutritious with lots of vegetable dishes. It was all Chinese food, including breakfast with its steamed buns and salted vegetables. I did not get as large a variety of steamed buns in the morning as during my previous quarantine in Tianjin, so the morning breakfast was the least interesting meal of the day. However, I was treated to a custom-addressed gift basket from the municipal foreign affairs office containing fresh fruit, chocolate and biscuits. It was a welcome addition to the ordinary quarantine fare.

My quarantine coincided with the lunar new year festival this year. When I asked whether we would get some sort of culinary treat for the new year, I was told that it was likely though I should not be expecting anything extraordinary. On new year's eve, I got an extra box of Chinese dumplings for lunch and for dinner. Dumplings are a traditional family meal for Chinese new year symbolising all the good wishes you pack into them with the mince. I was thrilled to get another extra box on the 1st-day-of-the-year lunch and on the 2nd-day-of-the-year lunch containing balls of glutinous rice filled with sweet sesame paste. Glutinous treats are another staple dish for the lunar new year because their gooiness is a symbol of all the good wishes sticking to you for a long time.

Despite the culinary extravaganza and the stunning room view, I must admit the 14 days stuck inside my bedroom did become a bit boring. There is a limit to listening to music, reading e-books and surfing the Internet. I did do some physical and vocal exercises every evening, but these are no substitute for a jog out in the park or the community of choral practice. Working days were easier to pass as I could telework with my colleagues sending me tasks to do remotely. This time, I was undergoing quarantine with six other colleagues from the French embassy. We had created an online chat group to share impressions, news and jokes. It made this quarantine a bit easier than last time when I was really alone.

The bad news came in early during the quarantine: because of the Omicron covid variant taking over the rest of the world, and in the run-up to the Beijing Olympic games, Shanghai municipality had decided to reinforce the health safety conditions of its quarantine to avoid covid cases appearing. The first 14 days of quarantine with medical observation are now followed by 7 more days of quarantine with self observation. I have changed hotel last evening. The hotel room is smaller; the view from the window on a carpark with palm trees bundled up for the winter is underwhelming; I am served my food three times daily at my bedroom door; I will still undergo two PCR tests this week. The only difference with my first 14 days of quarantine is that I now take my own temperature and report it to the hotel management twice a day.

I made the most of the long evenings alone to send out emails with my new year greetings. It is still time to wish all my readers a roaring lunar year of the tiger.

My wishes are in the bubbles: Break free of outdated ways of thinking; Safety; Tranquility; Friendship; Powerful; Delicious food; Music.

I want to break free

Queen, The works, EMI

Comic strip: Hergé, Titin Cigars of pharaoh, Casterman