In Beijing we stayed with my mum’s best friend from university. Back in 1981 they were bunk buddies living 6 to a room. I decided the next time I were to visit China, I wouldn't be bother to adjust my jet lag. I would be up at 4AM to see the sunrise, I would stand in Tiananmen Square at 5AM to see the national flag rise, I would line up for 3 hours to be the first to walk into the Forbidden City at 8AM, and like an empress from the Ming Dynasty (1668-1644 AD) I would dance through the palace courts. Our visit to the 798 Art Zone struck a chord in me. Two galleries were particularly memorable. The Miss Dior gallery exhibited silhouettes nipped-in at the waist, fabrics falling at mid-calf length, and the growth of the Miss Dior perfume. The second exhibit that had me awestruck was a bamboo & ink exhibition. The theme of the gallery was Mind Deconstruction, illustrated by poems of calligraphy on rice paper. The last night we were in Beijing we were with two of my mum’s old friends and we walked the perimeter of the Forbidden City. Their eyes were bright as they laughed about the past. I looked up at the stone wall surrounding the Forbidden City and it was spooky to think about the Emperors of the Ming and the Qing (1368-1911 AD) that live within the palace walls and the soldiers that paced the path we strolled. It was a night of shenanigans. We removed traffic cones to illegally park our car, trespassed a restricted area, scaled the moat wall, got caught by a guard and then all got some popsicles to eat.  In Wuzhen we arrived at a cute motel, the interior was designed for an escape in Greece but a glimpse outside the blue tile walls you saw nothing but honking cars on the cracked concrete road. Traditional local-styled dwellings lined the canals. Wuzhen is nicknamed the “Venice of the East”. In the evening the rain started to pour, and Mum and I huddled under an umbrella and walked for hours between the waterfront houses. The evening lights were dimly lit and set tranquil slippery stone path aglow. The next morning, at 5AM, street canvassers had lined their trucks full of fruit on the road in front of our motel. I sleepily made a note to visit the produce at a more reasonable hour, but when I woke again at 8AM, they had already left. Our friends lent us the keys to their apartment in the Xixi National Wetland Park in Hangzhou. The infrastructure was modern and I spent my morning run weaving through the beautifully eerie marble architecture.  Mum and I took a bus to see the vivid city lights and West Lake. We left Hangzhou via bullet train which reached operational speeds of up to 380 km/h.  Mum and I arrived in Xi’an in the evening and we saw the incandesce of the Bell Tower and Drum Tower. Strolling through the Muslim quarter at night was like strolling through your average night market, but on MDMA. Our family friends from Xi’an brought the things I studied in my Chinese Archaeology class to life, such as Emperor Qin Shi Huang’s Terracotta Army. Apart from sight seeing, Mum and I were treated to carbilicious meals, drizzled in oils and sprinkled with various spices. We rolled out of Xi’an feeling fatter than the noodles we ate. The ultimate destination of this trip was my mom’s hometown of Huaibei. The contrast of coming to a smaller city was larger than I had imagined. There lacked a sense of structure and I stood back timidly while listening to locals holler with thick accents. I was amused to watch my mum, normally soft spoken, conjure up an attitude while speaking. During my strolls I would continuously get lost in the maze of alleyways. Between the pale yellow apartments and dusty cement roads, I found myself enjoying the patterns of fabrics hung out to dry and the bright red paper banners pasted from door to door. In the morning, street food lined the sidewalks. In the evening, men crowded over games of chess.  I grew familiar to the nature of the locals, their direct way of speaking made it seem like we were all closely acquainted. Normally not used to the company of extended family, my assembly of aunts and uncles always leave me pleasantly astonished by their unconditional care. In Shanghai the subway was a breeze to navigate and Mum and I slipped beneath the underground system. In the Shanghai Museum I ogled at the collection of artifacts. The PowerPoint slides I spent meticulously memorizing in Early Chinese Art History were tangible behind the glass display cases. In the evening the air cooled as the neon lights warmed, with the windows down, my uncle took us out for a ride.Life moves at a faster pace on this side of the world. The last time I touched down in Shanghai, I met with my cousin who just started working there. Fast forward four years later, he has his own apartment, a beautiful wive, and an adorable baby. We reminisced about when we were 2 wild children running through water fountains.He has long since left that game and now there's only 1 of us that remains.

• published: 28 May 2015
• views: 20