Tai chi may never be the same following my public exhibition of the Zen-like martial art yesterday morning at Yangshuo Park.
When I see Chinese people doing tai chi, I think of a graceful swan. I looked more like a one-legged chicken.
Our instructor, a perky young lady wearing a pink uniform, started Pat and me out slowly with a few stretching exercises. Then she took us step by step through five sets of moves, finally tying them together in what is supposed to be one seamless routine.
Even a simple thing like lifting and bending my leg while making a circular motion with my arms was difficult. Our teacher did it without a hitch, but I kept losing my balance. Though I managed to stay upright, I often tilted like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Though I’m a former athlete, age and injuries have made me as inflexible as a steel rod.
(I will reserve judgment on Pat’s performance, partly because I wasn’t watching her all the time and partly because I don’t want to incur her wrath.)
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Our instructor showed us the proper stances and positions to maintain balance and increase power. She was a petite woman, but you could sense her strength when she demonstrated kicks and punches. At one point, she showed me how she could flip me over her shoulder. I had no doubt she could.
As we practiced tai chi, some elderly Chinese men and women played croquet on an adjacent dirt court. In parts of China, croquet apparently is the equivalent of shuffleboard in the U.S. – a leisurely game played primarily by retirees.
The park was also filled with tables of men playing various card and tile games, including mahjong and a Chinese version of poker. Two dozen men crowded around one table where players were betting furiously on Pai Gow, a traditional game played with Chinese dominoes. They shooed me away when I tried to take a photo because, as our guide explained, their public gambling is illegal. However, he told us that the authorities usually don’t break up the games unless someone complains or too much money is being bet.
During the afternoon, we rented bicycles and took a two-hour ride around the Yangshuo countryside. We passed fields of cabbage, lettuce and bok choy, along with several strawberry farms. We also saw men making bamboo rafts in a field. While larger rafts are now made with plastic bottoms, these craftsmen make them the old-fashioned way – by screwing or tying bamboo poles together and burning the ends to curve them upward. Several poles stick out at one end to make it easier to grasp the raft and move it.
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On the way back into town, we stopped briefly to take photos of Moon Hill, a crag whose natural arch has a moon-shaped hole in it. Sadly, the natural beauty draws so many visitors that a tacky tourist center has been built nearby.
Back in Yangshuo, we had lunch at the 7th Heaven Beer Garden. Our dishes – sweet and sour pork and curried chicken with broccoli – reminded me of the kind of Chinese food you get in the U.S., but which I’ve rarely seen in China.
Speaking of American food, I had a craving for it the other night so I couldn’t help myself when I walked by a McDonald’s. In addition to the normal menu, they sold curly fries that, for the sake of travel reporting, I had to sample. They were lightly seasoned, crisp and very tasty, which is as close as I’ll ever get to being a restaurant critic.
