China café

You’d have to be living under a proverbial rock, and a bigger one than Moganshan, to have missed the sixtieth anniversary of the People’s Republic of China on 1st October. And yet, funnily enough, there were few if any displays of celebration around here.

The usual sprucing up of outside areas and a minor wedding blitz took place. Flowers were planted along village streets, outside walls painted, restaurants and shops opened, but otherwise nothing.

I drove to our local town Wukang on the day of the anniversary. My excuse was to collect supplies for the coffee shop, ahead of the eight days of public holiday, but I really wanted to see what was going on. There were fewer flags than previous years. The streets were almost deserted. Everyone was indoors watching television, as instructed by the government. The parade and festivities in Beijing were going on all day and much of the night. Families, villages, townships crowded round the box.



On my way back up the mountain I drove through a bunch of bikers, on Vespa-type scooters and small motorbikes (big ones are banned), gathered at the stone arch at foot of the hill. They were taking photographs and larking about like a bunch of mods in 1950s Brighton. There were at least 20 of them, plus biker chicks.

So some people were out celebrating and enjoying themselves. There’s hope yet.

TAKE MY ADVICE. OR DON'T “We would like your advice Mr Mark,” said the vice mayor of Wukang.

We were having dinner in a private room of a new restaurant. I was surrounded by officials, including the man responsible for the economic development zone and the woman in charge of the new entertainment zone. The food was good. Other government officials were enjoying it too in other private rooms. They burst in to toast our mayoral party at intervals.

“We want you to help us set up bars and coffee shops,” the vice mayor went on, “because you have a bar and coffee shop in Moganshan, so you are an expert.”

I asked the assembled dignitaries where the customers would come from.

Hangzhou, they said. The area had now been named “Hangzhou Backstreet.”

Hangzhou is an hour’s drive away.“Why will they come from Hangzhou?” I asked.

Because of the attractions of Wukang, they said, and because of the bars. I held back from mentioning that people mainly visit Wukang on the way to Moganshan, and there are plenty of bars in Hangzhou.

“Can you help us find foreign managers from Shanghai?” the vice mayor asked me.

“Can you give them work permits?” I asked her in return.

“Certainly not.” She paused. “Maybe they could work part time.” Shanghai is almost three hours’ drive away.

I kept up my questions until the chief of the economic development zone had patently had enough. He cut me short. “Look Mr Mark, you don’t understand. We are the government. If we decide to invest in something then we do it. The money is not important. All these questions are not important. What matters is that we decide, so we go ahead.”

I don’t think I got a consultancy job.

IF ONLY THEY COULD TALK We have a military “installation” somewhere near the mountain. I am not really allowed to talk about it. But its personnel seem bored out of their minds and they have taken to collecting dogs. I have no idea what they do with them, but it could be any of the obvious options: breeding, baiting, fighting, or possibly security, although if so then they are very ineffective. If I come across one of their dogs they scarper with their tails between their legs.

A Shanghai-based Frenchman who is building a hotel in a nearby valley lost three dogs recently. After a three-week search he came up the mountain and someone said they had seen them near the installation. The Frenchman went to enquire, but was told he was mistaken. He returned with seven of his local workers and his dogs were handed over.

I lost our dog, Charlie a few days later. She often follows guests from the coffee shop when they leave for a hike and reappears, tired and happy, at the end of the day. This time she didn’t come back. After a long search I found her at 10pm, limping down the road from the installation. I have never seen her look so sorry and so relieved. What happened to her? I’ll never know. The men involved are forbidden from talking to foreigners, even though they greet me sheepishly in private