SHREDS & Leftovers (english)

Mr. Wu is laughing - Chapter 3

Szechuan, by the way, is located in southwestern China where it looks partially like the Alpine foothills – although populated here by the Himalayan Mountains rather than the Alps. The province is probably best known for its "Szechuan Beef" (very hot) and of course as the birthplace of passionate bridge player Deng Xiao Ping, who was able to attain a certain level of notoriety through his political activities as well. 

Of course, one also meets many Tibetans and Uigurians in Szechuan, as well as a lot of Han-Chinese who firmly sit at the controls of power - there as everywhere else in the country. Which, unfortunately, also includes the controls and steering wheels of their cars. The Tibetans and Uigurians on the other hand ride horses, which they are able to do considerably better than the Chinese can drive cars.

A large part of the Tibetan population in Szechuan seems to consist of Buddhist monks. Many of them prefer to race around on motorcycles. In the monastery, the main activity appears to be the vigorous polishing of their vehicles – besides praying, I assume. Or they sit, their legs dangling beneath them, as they observe perspiring Chinese construction workers renovating yet another monastery. This of course is financed by the government in Beijing; most likely funded from the taxes paid by foreigners in China, who alone contribute a large percentage of Chinese income tax revenues.

Cheng Du, the capital city of this province which seems so charming from afar, is known to tourists mainly because of its large Panda-station. 

Pandas are raised and probably also bred in a gigantic park on the city's fringe. Contrary to the usual Chinese idea of a park, reminiscent more of fairgrounds with their asphalt pathways, merry-go-rounds, food stalls and musical garbage pouring forth from the inevitable loudspeakers hanging from every tree and lamp post, this panda park is almost reminiscent of New York's Central Park.

Rest assured, pandas are boring, albeit completely adorable-looking creatures. 

They spend most of their time lazing about, eating. Of course, this is basically a sensible idea. However, these bears only eat one particular type of bamboo shoot. If they can't have that, they'd rather starve. A clear sign of animalistic eccentricity and, to some extent, also somewhat remarkable. Even more remarkable is the fact that these lethargic bamboo bears have managed to attract the interest of excellent marketing specialists, whose clan has created an umbrella organization and label, with which they are now able to sell just about any type of junk.

As I observe the troops of madly photographing, mostly American, tourists, whose overwhelming enthusiasm can barely be contained at the sight of these apathetically dozing predators, for whose completely superfluous preservation the entire world community seems to be in uproar, I begin to have some doubts. Perhaps these little critters are not so stupid after all? At least they seem far more intelligent than the tourists, whose silly glee almost makes them climb the fence in order to get as close to their little idols as possible.