Something old, something new

HANGZHOU, China -- The umbrella painting was a disaster.

The idea was to paint something pretty on a paper parasol. One guy in our group painted delicate branches and blossoms. One woman had a red umbrella laced with flowers.

Mine looked like Godzilla meets the butterflies.

We were learning how local art is made. Over the course of a week in Hangzhou, between visiting pagodas, temples, the famous West Lake, a wetland park and eating more Chinese food than I've encountered in a while, we learned a bit about life there and got to try more than a little of it.

When I first visited China in 1983, the emphasis was on showing us daily life -- visits to preschools with 4-year-olds trying to sing a welcome song in English, to factories, to Chinese medicine hospitals, and demonstrations of that then exotic treatment, acupuncture. And even a visit to a prison.

I've since made some half dozen more trips. And every time, China has re-invented itself.

Now it has been 15 years since the last trip and once again, it's a whole different world.

If you come, you probably won't be visiting preschools or prisons. But you can get a lot of hands-on activities to learn about culture and history.

Hangzhou, in southeast China, is 45 minutes from Shanghai on the Bullet Train. It is a natural beauty; the shining glory is West Lake and its beauty lives up to its reputation.

Water lilies line the shore. Mountains frame it like a Chinese painting. Should you venture out in early morning, you will see locals doing graceful tai chi and sometimes painting calligraphy on the sidewalks with giant brushes dipped in water. Yes, you are welcome to join in the tai chi.

What else? The Grand Canal, the world's oldest canal, begins at Hangzhou and ends 1,200 miles later in Beijing. Silk, tea and porcelain go back thousands of years here. There are workshops, which, along with painting parasols, include visiting tea plantations, silk weaving and more.

My friends and I went to pick tea and learned how to brew it properly.

Meijiawu Tea Village sits at the west end of West Lake. Once poor, it now is famous for its Longjing (Dragon Well) green tea. Famous enough that it gets a million visitors a year. Each family gets to work a portion of the hillside, which is covered in a waist-high carpet of tea plants so thick, it looks like you could walk on top.

"We pick only the very young leaves," said Yuan Le Ha, as she held a delicate yellow tea blossom. She pointed to the tiny, light green, brand-new leaves. These would then be cooked in an electric wok while someone constantly stirred with his hand for three hours. Then up to the roof for sun drying, another session with the wok, more sun and, voila -- green tea.

You do not steep green tea in boiling water, we were told. Wait a few minutes. The best temperature is around 180 degrees. The first cup is for sniffing, not drinking. Wait for the second. You do not steep green tea covered. "That will destroy the nutrients," Le Ha said.

Le Ha followed with a graceful tea ceremony where she warmed the glasses, prepared and poured us tea. Well, sigh; the stuff looks like cooked spinach and, to me, tastes like cooked spinach. But everyone else in the group loved it.

The session I loved most was learning how to make a chop, also called a seal. Chops have been around in China since 1600 B.C., eventually spreading to other Asian countries. Initially used only by emperors, lords, and samurai warriors, over time chops made their way down the social ladder to everyone.

They can be made of anything from metal to wood, but mostly are stone. Soapstone is especially popular since it's easy to carve.

We climbed worn, rough stones to a top floor at Xiling Seal Engraver's Society, which looked more like a temple than a school.

Teacher Wang Zhen has probably carved 1,000 chops over the past 13 years and while he makes it look swift, graceful and easy, for the rest of us, it was not.

We sat at a long table. Each person had a slender block of stone, pen, ink, tissue paper, a small chisel and a white glove to hold our stone.

We drew (with Zhen's help) the character on the paper with ink, transferred it to the stone and chiseled the pattern into the stone. Mine looked like many messy scratches instead of solid, bold lines.

The one I made says cat. Or maybe meow. My husband, who reads Chinese, says he sees a bit of both in the characters. Zhen inked it and then transferred the marking to a beautiful piece of paper inscribed with his name, the name of the school and the date. He also carved each of our names into another chop.

No trip to China is complete without temples, and we got our fix gloriously at the Lingyin Temple, a Buddhist complex. It's some 400 carvings cut into limestone dating back nearly 2,000 years. The place is huge, with grottoes, temples, pagodas, libraries, museums, caves and so much more.

The star of Hangzhou is West Lake, which was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2011. It has three causeways, numerous islands, pagodas, tea houses, temples and gardens.

Tour boats keep to an ancient style -- dragon boats, rowing boats, painted boats, each looking like it stepped from the pages of history.

If the lake's water and light show, Impression West Lake, is performing (mid-March to January), do not miss it. The director is the same guy who put together the opening ceremony for the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

It's a love story ... love found, love lost, war, sorrow, people transforming into swans. Someone said it's a Chinese version of Romeo and Juliet. More than 300 performers gracefully glide through ankle-deep water on a submerged stage against colored lights, flying feathers and beautiful Chinese houseboats. At one point, an army beats soaked drums, with each strike splashing water a foot high.

We also rode down the Grand Canal, built by hand 1,500 years ago. Cargo boats drag long loads. Ancient bridges gracefully span the water. New and old homes line the banks. And yes, there are shops and more than one coffee house.

Our other boat ride included a visit to Xixi National Wetland Park. This once was home to 20,000 people in a dozen villages. They were moved out when the park was created, leaving behind 23 square miles of protected wetland, six rivers, assorted ponds, swamps and preserved homes that now house silk weaving demonstrations, sample kitchens and bedrooms.

A word about shopping: It turned out that one of my best buys in silk was at Xixi park. I got a gossamer light scarf the size of a tablecloth for about $6.

One night we also wandered from our hotel to a silk shop (there are many) and found a selection that included all silk, silk with cashmere on one side (keeps the shawl from slipping off your shoulders) and all cashmere. Prices ranged from $4 to about $30.

And there was the Wensli Silk Museum, where you can buy a silk embroidered "painting" for $250,000, a Marc Rosier scarf for $450 or, closer to reality, a signature Wensli scarf for $150. That's in addition to the blouses, shirts, nighties, robes, pillows, ties and silk iPad case.

Our last day, we hit Qinghefang Ancient Street. It re-creates a bit of old China, with a football-field-long street of shops, stands and just about any trinket for sale from tea to scarves, tiny cloth animal key chains, spices, toys, bone combs, fancy fake designer sunglasses, snacks and my favorite, the guys pounding sesame seed paste into sheets of candy.

There's little left of the China I saw in 1983. But today's China is still absolutely fascinating.

Travel on 01/10/2016