Teaching in Tongren, China

By Greg McEnnally

Since the accession of Xi Jinping as the supreme Chinese leader, the empire has been becoming increasingly aggressive, to the point of bullying. Its so-called “Belt and Road Initiative” seems designed to lure poorer nations into a debt trap, forcing them into subservience to Chinese demands. Its huge fishing fleet is encroaching upon the legitimate fishing grounds of many other nations. It is seeking to expand its territory to include almost the entire South China Sea, Taiwan, parts of India, Japanese islands, etc. Indeed most of “China” is conquered territory. Chinese efforts to control Australia have been extraordinary.

Yet is this the whole story? This book describes just how wonderful the Chinese people can be. The students I taught at Tongren University were amongst the best I have taught anywhere. It was not hard to love them.

The town of Tongren is itself quite beautiful, surrounded by conical hills and built around the green, winding Li Jiang River.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Aug 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9781398423251

Greg McEnnally

After 14 years teaching secondary school in Australia, Greg McEnnally needed a break. In particular, he wanted to learn more about the Bible and Bible lands. He was also attracted to one very special Scripture scholar, Fr Carroll Stuhlmueller C.P., who was lecturing at the Catholic Theological Union in Chicago and also leading study tours of these lands. This was ideal—he signed up for six months study in Chicago plus three months based in Israel. This was in 1987. At the end of this year, he spent three years in Papua New Guinea, then ten years in hospital ministry, before deciding to sign up for another sabbatical. In 2000, he spent a further six months studying at CTU, Chicago, followed by a further three months in Israel, but this time based at the Anglican St. George’s College, Jerusalem. The rest of his life has been informed by these two marvellous years. This book is an attempt to share those years with others.

Book preview

About the Author

Greg McEnnally was a Science and Maths teacher for many years in Australia and Papua New Guinea. Subsequently, he shifted to teaching English as a second language because of its need in Indonesia. From there he moved to China, teaching in Fuzhou, Fujian Province, Tongren in Guizhou Province and Chongqing. This book is about his experiences teaching in Tongren between 2008 and 2011.

Dedication

I would like to dedicate this book to the students I taught at Tongren University. Most of these were quite poor, from rural backgrounds, many from one of the ethnic minorities, principally the Miao, Dong and Tujia peoples. Immediately, these students welcomed me into their lives. They were open, warm-hearted and hard working. There were two classes in particular whom I taught for the whole three years, viz. college classes 1 and 2: the only teacher to do so. I lived amongst them, ate with them, walked with them, went on outings with them—and I came to love them dearly. May God bless them always.

Copyright Information ©

Greg McEnnally 2022

The right of Greg McEnnally to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

All of the events in this memoir are true to the best of author’s memory. The views expressed in this memoir are solely those of the author.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

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Acknowledgement

My thanks go to those people who made this book possible. Greg McCann has provided friendship and support, both when we were together in Tongren and since. Photographs 96 and 98 are from him. Greg Tait provided his expertise in formatting the maps and diagram. Sakura has provided necessary information and friendship. And, of course, many thanks to my students, especially Cindy, Erica, Kim and Sunny, the latter symbolising the sunshine they brought to my life within a climate—both meteorologically and politically—where there was not much sunshine.

Introduction

I first went to China to teach English in 2002. Between then and 2014, I would teach in three places: Fuzhou in Fujian Province, Tongren in Guizhou Province and Chongqing. My travelling experiences have been recorded in A Traveller in China, A Traveller in Fujian and Journey to Beijing. Another book, China – Behind the Mask is an analysis of China from my experiences. It was time to tell the story of my teaching experiences. Teaching in Fuzhou preceded this book, while Teaching in Chongqing will come after. This book is the story of my teaching in Tongren.

At the beginning of 2007, while I was still in Fuzhou, it became clear that my 95-year-old mother, who had been living on her own for the previous 20 years, could no longer look after herself effectively. She needed the specialised care which a nursing home could provide. Anyone who has been in this situation knows what a traumatic time this can be—for everyone.

Since I was under contract till the end of June, I could not return to Australia until after this date, meaning that most of the work fell on the very capable shoulders of my brother. I am most grateful to him. This included selling our family home which had been ours for 63 years. We did not have enough money for the nursing home until the house was sold, which was done before I had returned from China. We still had to dispose of Mum’s possessions—and she was a hoarder. This included furniture, household goods and other items which were intensely personal, such as photographs.

As would be expected from anyone who had lived for such a long period of time in the one house, my mother had become extremely attached to it. Leaving it was gut wrenching—for her and for us. Even today, my brother cannot bring himself to return to our house, not even for a quick drive past. In time, Mum did settle into her new home, but it did take some time. I decided to spend an entire year back in Australia in order to help her in this process and also, just to spend time with her.

At the end of this year, with Mum now settled, I decided to return to China. Where would I go? I did not think it a good idea to return to Fuzhou. You cannot wind back the clock. Fuzhou would have changed and I had changed. As well, the city had become much wealthier than it was when I first went there in 2002. Wealth is fine, but it is often achieved at some cost. This could include an increase in begging, stealing, drug use and mental illness. Furthermore, the One-Child Policy, when combined with the preference for boys, was producing a spoilt generation. The students I had taught towards the end of my stay in Fuzhou, were becoming increasingly difficult. I wanted to teach poor people.

With this in mind I began to look at options. I had been part of a group of people teaching in China under the auspices of the Association for International Teaching, English and Curriculum Exchange Inc., or AITECE for short, which is based in Hong Kong. I contacted them to find out what they would recommend. Each year, they would send a representative to visit all their teachers, both to see how they were going and to assess the general situation. Coincidentally, at that very time, this man was visiting Guizhou Province, so I waited for his report. He strongly recommended this province, which was, after all, the poorest province in all of China. It just so happened that my friend of many years, Greg, with whom I had also taught in Fuzhou at Anglo-Chinese College, was at that time teaching at Tongren University, so it was agreed that I would join him.

The next step, of course, was to contact the university, send them my CV and qualifications, arrange for a visa, a health check, etc. The story of my journey and arrival will be told later in this book—and quite a story it is. Suffice to say at this point that I did arrive, so first, let us look at some of the features of this province and this town.

Map 1: China’s Provinces and Claimed Territories

Map 1 shows the location of Guizhou Province within the Chinese Empire. This includes, what I have called the claimed territories, which have over time been added to the empire usually by military conquest, but which were originally independent, occupied by non-Han Chinese peoples; these include Tibet, Xinjiang, Qinghai, Inner Mongolia, Zhejiang, Fujian, Guangdong, Guangxi, Yunnan and Guizhou. The three north-eastern provinces of Heilongjiang, Jilin and Liaoning used to be Manchuria. Taiwan and Vietnam used to be part of China by right of conquest, but are now independent nations. Currently, China is invading the South China Sea, encroaching not only on international waters, but on territory belonging to the Philippines, Vietnam, Thailand, Malaysia and Indonesia.

Chapter 1: Guizhou Province

Map 2: Guizhou Province

Guizhou Province is situated in the southwest of China. It is landlocked, being bordered to the south by Guanxi Province (which is coastal), to the west by Yunnan Province, to the north by Chongqing Municipality and to the east by Hunan Province. In size, it measures some 176,167 square kilometres, or about 560 kilometres by 515 kilometres at its widest extent. The population is almost 40 million, making it 40 % larger than the entire population of Australia, yet it is less than a quarter the size of the state of New South Wales. China is huge: each province is large enough to be a separate country. Photo 1: Ridge After Ridge

Photo 1: Ridge after ridge

The geomorphology is interesting, in that it is such a mountainous region, which is quite a contrast with Australia. Cf. Photograph 1. When travelling around the province, it seems one is forever either going through tunnels, or riding on bridges high above the land, or driving along windy mountainous roads. The province actually forms part of a plateau, which slopes roughly from west to east. In the west, I spent some time on a farm with one of my students at an altitude of some 2,000 metres, while in the east, the city of Tongren, where I was living, nestles in a valley, only about 300 metres above sea level.

For administrative purposes, the province (sheng) is divided into a number of regions, called Shi, which in turn are divided into counties in the countryside, or districts in the cities. The capital city is Guiyang, which is itself divided into districts. There are major counties within the province. There is Zunyi County to the north, centred on the city of Zunyi, best known as the place where Mao became leader of the Communist Party. To the west is Bijie County, home to quite a few of my students. To the southwest are the counties of Liupanshui and Anshun, home of Huangguoshu, China’s largest waterfall. To the east is Tongren County, which is centred on the city of Tongren, although not geographically as the city is situated at the eastern edge, close to the border with Hunan Province. The rest of the province is divided into what are somewhat euphemistically called autonomous prefectures. This needs some explaining.

Photo 2: Miao Peoples

China is an empire. Over the centuries, the Han peoples have one by one conquered neighbouring territories belonging to other peoples, either by military means or by migration, or both. What is now called Guizhou, was first conquered in the Tang Dynasty (AD 618–907), a time of Chinese expansion. The local peoples, however, were not so easily subdued, not even after Guizhou was declared a province of the empire in AD 1413 during the Ming Dynasty (AD 1368–1644). There were many subsequent rebellions. In 1726, there was a major rebellion, resulting in some 400,000 people starving to death, with another 10,000 being beheaded. Further rebellions occurred in 1872 and 1942. The central government has never brooked any opposition whatsoever: it still doesn’t. This process of conquering neighbouring territories is ongoing: witness China’s recent incursions into Tibet, the South China Sea and into Indian territory. And it will never stop, until it is forced to stop by others. That is not happening at the moment, so that the empire has a carte blanche to take whatever territory it likes. These territories are then considered to have belonged to China from ancient times.

The province is poor, and as is often the case, the rural areas are worse off than the cities. Farmers, who are also referred to as peasants, are particularly poorly off. The Chinese word for farmers is nongmin, literally rural people. Drought can be a problem. In this regard, my friend Greg did quite a bit of work supplying water to isolated villages—as well as teaching English. There is a folk saying with reference to this province: The sky is not clear three days (in a row); the land is not level for three li (less than a kilometre); the people do not have three cents. Wow! Why would you want to go there? This is in spite of the literal meaning of Gui Zhou being precious territory. Well, it really is precious—and so are the people. The province is also called Qian for short; most province names have a shortened form. Photograph 3 shows a typical rice-growing valley, which is extremely picturesque with the curved paddy fields and curved road, offset by the distant hills.

1

Photo 3: A Beautiful Farming Valley

Education had been limited. There was a high rate of illiteracy, school buildings had been basic, equipment even more so, and the standard of teaching had been low. When given a chance, teachers would much prefer to teach in the cities rather than in the countryside. By contrast, one of my former students has decided to devote her life to teaching poor rural children, rather than seek better conditions for herself. She has my admiration. I say it again: the people are wonderful.

The capital is Guiyang. Cf. map 2, D 4.5. It has a population of about 3.5 million and sits at an altitude of just over 1,000 metres above sea level. Many are the times I travelled between Guiyang and Tongren and the difference in altitude is quite noticeable. Even in summer, the city is cool and in winter it is very cold. Tourist brochures would never admit this, as nearly every place I have been to in China is described as having a mild climate. How do you define mild? I suppose some days are pleasant anywhere. For the most part, the city is quite drab and polluted. However, some of my students were from Guiyang and of course everybody loves their home city. I would be returning to Tongren from Guiyang and be asked what I thought of her city. Well, what could I say?

The catholic cathedral is quite beautiful, especially as it incorporates features from the local minority peoples. Photograph 4 shows its facade. Like many churches in China, however, it does not stand out, as they tend not to be located on major thoroughfares but in out of the way back streets. You need to know where they are. I first found the cathedral when I was staying in a hotel and espied the church from a high window, giving me a fix so that I could go to Mass on a Sunday.

Photo 4: Catholic Cathedral, Guiyang

There are some quite attractive parks. There is Renmin Guangchang, or People’s Square, an open space, most of which is paved, which is usually the case in China: they do not emphasise green grass as we do. At one end, there is a large statue of Mao Zedong, arm raised in avuncular blessing. Goodness, he was anything but that; he was a tyrant. Below there is an underground supermarket, Wal-Mart, where I would go for supplies which were unavailable in Tongren, such as cereals, cheese, tinned fish, butter, spreads and good wines.

The railway station is at the end of the street only about a kilometre from People’s Square. I was in and out of this station many times, giving rise to some interesting experiences. There was the time a man went out of his way to help me, only to lead me up the garden path, so to speak; I would have been better on my own. There was the time when Greg and I were sitting in McDonald’s in the company of three bubbly young ladies as we waited for our train. There is a market at the station where you can buy supplies for your journey. There was the time Greg bought his supplies at this market only to have a man steal them. There was the time I arrived on an extraordinarily overcrowded train from Yuping, near Tongren, when I had not been able to buy a seat ticket—meaning you stand, or sit on your bag. My bag was absolutely filthy. Of later years, there has been strict airport style security after groups of Muslims had been killing people with knives. Photograph 5 shows the station with its usual throng of people and suburban buses waiting for passengers.

Photo 5: Railway Station, Guiyang

The city also boasts a large bookstore, which stocks many English books. Here I would buy my reading material, since English books were not available in Tongren. There were some in the university library, but I was not allowed to borrow them.

One of my favourite places is a coffee shop, called Highland Coffee, run by an American who has a Chinese wife. It is expensive, but has a good atmosphere, where one can enjoy good coffee and cakes with friends.

I do have lots of memories from this city, some of which will be found later in this book. There was the time I took a taxi to the intercity bus station and I am sure the driver thought he was a Formula 1 driver; the last straw was his attempting to overtake two vehicles at the same time, both in their respective lanes, with our racing driver straddling the white line. I told him to slow down. He did, surprisingly. Maybe he just could not fit between those other vehicles. There was the time a really aggressive man pushed and shoved his way onto a bus so that he could get a seat; a woman kicked him in the shins. No sympathy from me.

The city of Zunyi to the north of Guiyang, is the second largest city in the province, with a population of well over a million. It is famous as the place where Mao Zedong became Communist Party leader on 16th–17th January, 1935, during the Long March. My compatriot, Greg McCann worked there, teaching in Zunyi Medical University from 2004 till 2008. It is a city I visited a number of times.

There are many other towns throughout this province where I spent some time, teaching in some of them, but the town I called home for three years is Tongren.

Chapter 2: The City of Tongren

Photo 6: Beautiful Tongren From Jia Nian Shan

Introduction

Tongren County is some 18,000 square kilometres in size, with a population of about 3 million. Tongren city is quite small, with a population of about 150,000. Cf. map 2 G 2.8. I would tell my students that the Chinese population of Sydney was about double that of Tongren. It is, however, a beautiful place, with the green coloured Jinjiang He (Jinjiang Stream) winding through the town. Cf. Photograph 6. The whole area is karst topography, meaning that conical limestone hills surround the town, thus placing Tongren in a hollow, only about 270 metres above sea level. There is an airport, but it is located some distance away on a plateau. In winter, this airport is closed from time to time, due to snow, ice and fog.

Photo 7: Snow In Tongren

Yes, it can get quite cold in winter. It does snow although not every year. Cf. Photograph 7. Nevertheless, a maximum daily temperature of around 8 degrees is cold enough for me, causing me to wear four layers of clothing. My apartment in my second and third years, however, was noticeably colder, situated as it was in a depression, where the colder air would sit. Often my floor would be wet, so that each day I would need to give it a mop. My bedroom would be around 5 degrees, although warm under the blankets—read two doonas and an electric blanket. I guess you need a reason for getting up in the morning. By contrast, the summers could be hot, with plenty of days over 40 degrees.

Spring is definitely the best season, delighting the spirit with the welcome return of warmth. At the first opportunity, you would find the locals spreading their bedding out in the sun to get some air, with railings and bushes festooned with blankets and doonas. The countryside around Tongren at this time is stunningly beautiful, with pink peach blossoms blending with yellow rape flowers. Cf. Photograph 8. It is good to be alive. October, in autumn, is also a delightful month, after the heat of summer has gone but before the cold of winter has arrived.

Photo 8: Tongren Countryside In Spring

Tongren’s latitude is 27 degrees 45 minutes north and 109 degrees 9 minutes east, on the extreme eastern edge of Guizhou Province, next to Hunan Province. Map 2 shows Guizhou Province, including the location of Tongren. Just over the border is a very attractive mediaeval town, called Fenghuang (or Phoenix Town), which became one of my favourite places to visit. I described it in book 1 of this series, A Traveller in China (Austin Macauley, London, 2014) chapter 46, and later in this book, in chapter 9.9.

There is a legend that about 700 years ago, a small copper figurine was found in the river, thus giving the town its name, copper person. The presence of copper could explain the green colour of the river. The town is also called pure land of Brahma and city of benevolence, righteousness and wisdom. Wow! It is a wonder people are not flocking there. As well, it has been called gateway to Guizhou Province, which says nothing, as every place on the planet can be considered to be a gateway to somewhere else.

Tongren is indeed a pretty city, especially when the sun shines and the air is clear, albeit a rather rare conjunction. Climbing the surrounding hills affords differing perspectives on this serpentine shaped city, following the course of the river with some 22 bridges spanning the river and its tributaries.

The buildings are quite attractive, many of them being of recent construction. There is neatness and colour. The cover photograph shows a bridge over this beautiful river, with a pavilion on the left sitting on a small island. Photograph 9 shows an outdoor theatre, called the Minorities Theatre, as it is constructed in the style of the Miao and Dong peoples. Many of my students came from one or other minority group.

Photo 9: Minorities Theatre

Over the three years I spent in Tongren, I came to know the city quite well throughout the course of my activities: shopping, going on excursions with students or staff, bike riding or simply walking for exercise, often accompanied by students.

2.1: Transport

2.1.1: Railway

The city has a railway station and is in fact situated on the main north south line linking the major cities of Chongqing in the north with Guangzhou and Shenzhen in the south. Cf. Photograph 10, which was taken from a steep conical hill overlooking the station.

Photo 10: Tongren Railway Station

Curiously, having a station did not mean it was easy to buy tickets—far from it. In the first place you could not buy tickets more than five days in advance, and even then preference was given to people travelling the entire distance. Hence one would have to wait until one or two days beforehand, join a long queue and hope there were still some tickets left when one fronted up to the counter, especially after the people pushing in from the side had taken their tickets. These days, it is easier to buy tickets as one can do so via the internet. Also, curiously, there was no direct line to the capital Guiyang, to the west. You would either have to go by bus, or catch a taxi to Yuping about 75 kilometres away, and board a train there for the five-hour journey to Guiyang. You could, however, travel east into Hunan Province.

Here is an example of the complexity of buying a railway ticket.

I was planning to travel to Shanghai by train, before boarding a Qantas flight to Sydney. Since the train from Chongqing to Shanghai passes through Tongren, you would think it would be a simple matter of waltzing up to the ticket office, purchasing your ticket—after having presenting one’s valid passport, of course—and walking away, clutching the said ticket in one’s hot little hand. If only life were that simple. Normally, they were not selling tickets in Tongren until they had sold all they were likely to sell in Chongqing, the station of departure. We would get what was remaining—if we were lucky. Accompanied by a student, I walked up to the railway station to find out the earliest possible date when I could buy a ticket.

You won’t believe what the lady at the ticket office said. I could not buy a ticket to Shanghai from Tongren—at all. If I wanted a ticket, I would have to buy it in Sushan. Where the…is Sushan? It is back along the line—a long way back, towards Chongqing. So, the idea was that I take a train to Sushan, where I would get off and buy the ticket. With the vast crowds in this country, buying a ticket usually means queuing up for quite some time—possibly an hour. When is the next train to Shanghai? It could mean staying a whole day in Sushan till the next train for Shanghai came through. Then, I could hop on, travel all the way back to Tongren, where we stop again. Crazy? That is putting it mildly.

Bureaucracy

Some days later, I went back to the ticket office, this time accompanied by one of our teachers—a male. Once again, I joined the queue, gradually edging forward while breathing the cigarette smoke of the man in front, and trying to stop the man behind barging in front of me—a common practice. At the counter, we got the spiel I have just related. My companion was not having it. He stood there for some time arguing, while the queue stretched behind us. This is not convenient. He is a stupid foreigner who does not speak the language. It is too complicated for him. He cannot do what you ask. Naturally, the stupid foreigner was vigorously nodding his agreement.

Eventually, she relented and sold me the ticket. Just like that. Why the goodness couldn’t she have done that in the first place? I have a thing about stupid rules and—bureaucracies.

For the record, I got a hard sleeper for 374 Yuan. A hard sleeper means 6 bunks to a compartment and no door. A soft sleeper means 4 bunks and a door, but at 570 Yuan, I thought the cost a bit steep. Thank goodness this teacher was with me. He asked me why the Foreign Affairs Office did not buy our tickets for us. Are they not supposed to be looking after us? A good point, but in fact they had never done this. Why is that so surprising? I shall have more to say about the Foreign Affairs Office later. We managed on our own—with help from students and sometimes, other staff members.

2.1.2: Buses

There were two intercity bus stations, one major, the other minor, and neither of them demanded one’s passport in order to purchase a ticket. The major one has large buses which travel to major centres, such as Guiyang, the capital of the province. The minor one has smaller buses which negotiate the smaller country roads around the town, servicing the smaller country villages. There is also an internal bus network, which was quite convenient, but which I rarely used. The reason was that the town is so small that I preferred either to walk or to ride my bike. Photograph 11 shows a suburban bus stop, built in the architectural style of the minority peoples: very attractive. Other cities in China also design their bus stops in the architectural styles of peoples local to their areas. Kaili, also in Guizhou Province, is a case in point. Jinghong, in the Xishuangbanna region of southern Yunnan Province has bus stops in the style of the local Dai peoples.

Photo 11: A Tongren Bus Stop In Local Architectural Style

2.1.3: Taxis

There are taxis in the town, but I never took a taxi on my own, as it was never necessary. Always, I would be with others, generally a group of students. They would crowd into the back seat—the number of passengers is limited only by the available space—while I would sit up front. This was on their insistence. Immediately, the driver would turn his head and begin talking with the students in the back and invariably would ask, Where is this foreigner from? I would tell him, much to his surprise. Well, I may have been a foreigner, but I did understand a little Chinese.

2.2: Walking Street

The heart of Tongren, at least in a commercial sense, is Walking Street, situated on the main road, only about 20 minutes’ walk from the university. Walking Street, of course, means a mall, a pedestrian area from which cars are banned. I really like these. One can stroll around without any danger of being killed. It is paved—naturally—no grass here, but there are pot plants and seats. The main section covers just one block, so it is not exactly huge, but neither is this city. The mall contains China Telecom, which I used initially for internet connection but later abandoned—another story—but I was dissatisfied with their service; yet paradoxically their motto averred that service was their No. 1 priority—another example of the façade being more important than the reality.

Walking Street has the only bank where one could obtain foreign currency, the central branch of the Bank of China. I did my daily banking at another branch closer to home—the only one where I could withdraw money without having to pay interest; at every other branch, even though it is the same banking company, interest was charged. Changing renminbi (people’s money) or Yuan into Australian dollars was not easy. You needed your banking details, employment details, a letter from the president of the university and, of course, your passport. One is allowed to exchange only a certain proportion of one’s earnings: the Chinese do not like their money going offshore. One of the bank employees was explaining all this, hinting that my changing money into Australian dollars was only just on the do-able side of impossible, when she turned to Erica, one of my students, who was with me, and stated, Of course, we could give it to you. Just like that. Promptly, I handed my hard-earned Yuan to Erica, who fronted up to the counter while I tried to look invisible. Before long, she returned and handed me my Australian money. Just like that. Being a Chinese citizen—whereas I, of course, was a laowai, a foreigner—all she needed was her ID card. Bureaucracy.

The post office is here; a place I would frequent especially just prior to Christmas when I would be sending out Christmas cards.

The mall has the best supermarket in town and a bookstore—Chinese of course, apart from English books for those learning the language. It was here in this mall that I bought long johns to keep me warm in winter, as never before had I used them or needed them. I also bought reading glasses and winter coats.

One of the curious things I had noticed was the large proportion of students who could not see the blackboard, especially if they were sitting down the back of the classroom. Most of them were wearing glasses, but some were not. Why not?—because they could not afford them. Hence I came to an arrangement with a particular optician. The reason for their poor eyesight may have something to do with long hours of study under dim lighting from an early age.

My electric razor needed new blades. I noticed a shop in Walking Street which was selling the same model for 400 Yuan. Perhaps they would have replacement blades. The shop girl assured me that she would sell me the blades, without the necessity of purchasing a whole new razor—for 400 Yuan! You cannot fault the Chinese business acumen.

Nearby there is the best restaurant in town, called Royal Coffee on the 20th floor of a building overlooking the river. I liked it. Lord alone knows where the name came from. It seems that when English names are chosen, there is little regard for meaning. When the time came to leave Tongren in August 2011, some of my students wanted to take me out for a meal: this was the restaurant I chose. Apart from its food and ambience, it also held special memories for me, as I had enjoyed other meals here in the past with friends.

Photograph 12 shows one of the smaller sections of this mall; in the background can be seen one of those conical peaks which surround the town, adding to its attractiveness.

Photo 12: Part Of Walking Street

2.3: Qingshui Dadao

There are only a few major roads in Tongren, the main one actually bisecting the university where I worked. It is called Qingshui Dadao, meaning Sweet Water Road. The university’s address was No. 17, situated on the eastern bank of the Jinjian Stream—or it used to be, as it now occupies a new site. For my first year, my apartment building was on one side of the road, while the classrooms, library, administration buildings and oval were all on the other side. Strange.

On this road, in the immediate vicinity of the university, were about 50 small family restaurants, catering obviously to the students and local residents. Most of these could sit only about ten patrons at a time. The food was basic but good quality; only in one did I suffer from an upset stomach after eating, so I never returned to this worthy establishment. They all cooked in woks with oil over extremely hot flames. One restaurant had a flue which would blow the gases out onto the footpath, which I found quite unpleasant, as it would irritate throat and eyes. I did not eat there either. At times, too much oil would be used, but mostly not. One popular dish did require being cooked in a lot of oil, and that was eggplant, this being something of a speciality in the city. It tasted very nice, but once again I suffered stomach problems from one such establishment, which—needless to say—I did not patronise again. One wonders how many times the cooking oil was recycled.

One restaurant I rather liked was situated