Laowai World 老外世界

  The phrase “Yangcheng crab” produces a Pavlovian response in Shanghainese.  According to local rooster merchants lollygagging about, it is really the visitors from Hong Kong who can’t keep their hands out of the crab nets. So it was no surprise that when I put the word out about a possible lake visit, 16 people immediately signed on. We “borrowed” a friend’s company van and driver, stocked up on snacks and travel games, and were quickly on our way to a Sunday feast!

Well, not that quickly. We were immediately stuck in traffic trying to leave Shanghai. As a frequent taxi passenger, I am no stranger to vague adherence to traffic rules, but even I was surprised when our driver steered our van into the separate bicycle lane in a haphazard display of bravado.  

After about an hour and a half, we arrived at Yangcheng Lake. The lake is only three km from Suzhou City and about 60 km from Shanghai. The part we visited is close to the town of Kunshan. Immediately we were surrounded by crab sellers, who are quick to pull the blue netted baskets out of the water and display their restless crabs. The crab shops are basically floating boats oared to the shore.

After bargaining for our crabs, we all boarded a speedboat to head to a floating restaurant in the middle of the lake. The boat driver tried to outdo our van driver by speeding over wakes and taking razor sharp turns in the water. No one seemed worried that the only thing resembling a life vest was a dull orange rain poncho jimmy-rigged to hold the gas cans in place.

Onboard the restaurant, which was in actuality someone’s houseboat, we ordered some extra dishes to go with our crabs, and cracked open a case of beer. Be warned that the beer is warm, and any ice cubes from the lake may send you scurrying to the head later. The crabs were cooked to perfection, and we feasted in style. Remember patience if this is your first time to eat crabs: our French cohort seemed flustered as he rooted around for the precious meat.

After lunch, we played some card games and hung out in the restaurant for a while. Some places have a living room and will let you sit around and watch DVDs all afternoon. After cards, we purchased some crabs to take back home and sped back to the pier. We boarded our van and promptly fell into a post-crab-feast slumber as our driver raced back to Shanghai, refusing to be outdone by the showboating speedboat driver.

While Xitang may not be as well known as nearby Zhou Zhuang  (the “Venice of China”), its low key inhabitants, winding, narrow streets, and lack of tourists make it an interesting day trip from Shanghai.  Our pack of Shanghainese, including several token foreigners, found a certain charm roaming around the back lanes, peering into local houses and chatting with grizzled old boatmen.

The old town in Xitang is crisscrossed with canals from nine rivers, and the solid, classical buildings were built primarily during the Ming and Qing dynasties (1368-1911). During these dynasties, Xitang was quite well known in South China for its handicrafts and commerce, but the town first became prosperous during the Yuan dynasty (1271-1368). There are plenty of gardens and grand entrance halls in Xitang to mark rich families or famous resident poets.

Gabled roofs marked the status of a family during the old dynasties: 3 gables meant the son had passed a high level official exam. Many of the walks along the canals are covered, making it an all-weather destination. Red hanging lanterns hung after dark are said to cast Xitang in a romantic glow.  Unfortunately, the only red glow we saw were the harsh glare of car brake lights in front of our bus on the way home, since we had to leave Xitang before dark.

The best thing about Xitang is the lack of cars. I felt somehow at ease not having to dodge taxis and bicycles as our little group wound its way through the old, narrow lanes running along the canals.

While there were plenty of things for sale in the houses lining the streets, the hawkers did not really hassle us. Vendor’s goods not only included local family-made specialties such as “spiced beans” and “eight immortals cake,” but also some venerable tourist favorites: “set of 12 Shaolin figures in various poses” and “fake Rolex watch.”  

The locals in Xitang are renowned for inviting tourists into their living rooms to discuss intellectual pursuits, such as poetry, calligraphy, bird-keeping and gardening. Two members of our group managed to wheedle their way into a native home to discuss the inhabitant’s displayed paintings. Hoping to see some local angle on my xiangqi (Chinese chess) opening moves, I ducked my head into a home whose dwellers were concentrating on a game at hand. They were friendly enough, but instead of following my conversational line of “Central Cannon Attack as a Valid Opening Move,” talk quickly turned to “My Big Nikon Camera” and “Foreigners Tendency to Sweat a Lot.” I thanked them and continued on our tour.  

One would think the natives in a tourist town would be used to, well, tourists. So it was intriguing that a small group of residents followed us around for over an hour. I am not talking about a Pied Piper syndrome – these were grown men. They weren’t the chatty type either; this little posse of hangers-on just seemed interested in meandering after us and staring somewhat blankly at our girlfriends and digital camera equipment.

Apart from these silent stalkers, everyone else in town was generally friendly and talkative – especially the old garbage-collecting boatmen. One seasoned oarsman just beamed when one of the women in our group yelled out, “You’re so cute, grandpa!” He rowed alongside our group, all smiles, for a solid twenty minutes before continuing his refuse extraction activities. Later on the bus, we decided that this town’s general curiosity, while at times slightly puzzling, was one of the things that makes Xitang just a little different and just a little more interesting that rest of the tourist canal towns.