Confucius, regarded as China's greatest philosopher, lived his life from 551to 479 BC around today’s Qufu in western Shandong. Throughout my long association with China I would regularly hear his name while increasingly understanding his teachings and their significance even within contemporary society. Today Confucianism is also associated with ways of encouraging an interest in and knowledge of Chinese culture and history both domestically and overseas. Surprisingly, having traveled extensively across China, I had never visited Qufu until recently. This was partly because rail connections with the city were then not convenient. Trains stopped 16 kilometers westward at Yanzhou, along the main Beijing-Shanghai railway.
Earlier this year, in Tianjin, my interest in both Confucius and Qufu was rekindled. I had been invited to photograph Confucian rituals, ceremonies and related cuisine preparation at the city’s Shangri-La Hotel. Performers and leading chefs had come north from Qufu for a weeklong event. While filming, I kept thinking how beautiful the red and golden costumes were, how precise the practitioners’ movements and how different the cuisine appeared to what I have long associated with China. I knew then that I had to reach Qufu, to realize first-hand learning experiences such a city could possibly offer. It proved a good decision. November proved an excellent time to visit. The weather was mostly perfect for walking and photography, the trees turned golden, creating colorful contrasting vistas, while the main attractions were not crowded.
Since 2011 high-speed services have linked the new Qufu East station with Beijing in just over 2 hours and Shanghai in 3 hours 30 minutes. While exiting the station I noticed its external appearance quite different to the norms of other terminals along the line. It resembled more a style of grand, almost templelike construction. Indeed a large statue of Confucius rose above its forecourt. Interestingly, on the drive toward downtown, many recent residential and commercial properties conformed to design standards that helped toward creating a local identity.
Arriving at my hotel, having a room facing toward the Old Town of Qufu, I went out onto the balcony to view a city at first so scenically different. Looking toward the Ming-era old city walls with their defensive gate towers, it was mostly low-rise. There felt a sense of harmony between the buildings and their surrounding area. Nothing obscured my view of the glazed yellow-tiled roofed Dachang Hall. Built in 1724, it sits prominently amid the Temple of Confucius, indeed helping create a skyline not dissimilar to historic Beijing, although on a smaller scale. That temple was along with the adjacent Confucius Mansion and Cemetery of Confucius sitting just beyond the walled city. Understandably they are UNESCO World Heritage Sites and were within easy walking distance of where I would stay.
I looked down to the gardens and pavilions bordering the Yi River across which lay a park that caught my attention. Presenting a mixture of classical Chinese gardens, as seen for example in Suzhou, it combined small temples, traditional gateways and rock sculpting above pools. Indeed I assumed correctly that it looked like an excellent location for photography. Nearby stood inspiring modern architecture, constructed in the Qufu style, enclosing both a theater and an art museum.
Qufu had obviously invested considerably toward developing the local economy through tourism. With increasingly discerning domestic visitors while trying to entice international tourists, quality accommodation accompanied by professional levels of service creates an atmosphere where people will go on to recommend travel to that city. This is particularly important with today’s instant sharing of images and comments on social media, something I do regularly.
Hotels increasingly incorporate locally-inspired design. The Shangri-La where I would stay opened in 2013 with an interior concept taken from the three key principles of Confucian philosophy. These represent order, harmony and hierarchy. I was informed it included Six Arts from the disciplines of rites, music, archery, chariot racing, calligraphy and mathematics. It certainly again created fascinating scenes for photography.
That first evening within the hotel's Shang Palace restaurant I was introduced to more of the etiquette on dining advocated by Confucius. It was an opportunity to experience once again fine examples of Kong cuisine earlier enjoyed in Tianjin. Confucius said, "Food can never be too good and cooking can never be done too carefully" and there I was in the very home of such unique dishes.
After dinner I walked around the surrounding neighborhood. It was very quiet, reminding me of earlier years where I spent considerable time in smaller Chinese cities and towns. That day in Qufu I heard no car horns nor witnessed any traffic jams. This was small-city China where life remained more traditional, more laid-back than the megacities that tend to characterize the country's contemporary urban scene. With an urban population around 60,000 and administrative numbers just over 600,000, Qufu’s influence both domestically and internationally however is way beyond its size. I have often advocated the importance to visit lesser well-known cities. Exciting developments are often taking place there while they also present contrasting aspects of China away from normal urban stereotypes.
That evening sitting again on my balcony, I absorbed a city going to sleep. There was virtually no sound with tranquility descending such that would indeed allow a very restful night.
Early morning, before dawn, I was photographing from my balcony the moon reflected on the still waters of the Yi River. It was a spellbinding scene of which classical Chinese poets would have surely gained inspiration. Gradually as light started filling the sky, I watched people performing morning exercise within a nearby park amid ginkgo trees wrapped in their delightful autumnal gold and orange. Music, as if from an earlier dynasty, rose up from some of the larger templelike structures. Again, I had this feeling of tranquility I was quickly absorbing in Qufu.
The sky turning blue, I headed off for a pre-breakfast walk by the river. I reached a pavilion overlooking willow trees with their branches, still holding green leaves, drooping down toward the waters. Local people were arriving by bicycle, some to exercise, others just to chat. Indeed I noticed a higher ratio of bicycles, both pedal and electric than in major centers. The city is flat, its traffic levels low, and the tree-lined roads are quiet and wide, making it just perfect for cycling or in my case, walking. Indeed I could spend so much time walking slowly, reaching arched bridges while capturing with my camera the combination of water and vegetation in its different seasonal shades rising between white-walled buildings characteristic of water towns.
As a geographer, I wondered if the flat alluvial terrain of the Qufu area had indeed been influenced by the Yellow River’s many historic course changes. Its regular floods deposited alluvium while the hills near Qufu had at one time maybe been islands? It certainly looked that way for there are plenty of waterways in the area, some of which appeared navigable by small boat. Indeed Qufu’s name literally translates as "crooked hill”, referring to a kilometer-long hill within its then urban area. That was during a time as capital of the State of Lu within the Spring and Autumn period. Then the city walls were considerably larger than the Ming-era fortifications that remain today for it included a greater land area both east and north.
The concept of a small, walled city existing through historic times in this vast agricultural plain certainly attracted me. It was time to head north up Datong Road. That area is quickly becoming a busy community of small shops and restaurants, quite similar to other parts of China, although such comparisons faded after crossing Jingxuan Middle Road. I had reached Gulou South Street, "Gulou" meaning the Drum Tower. Along with Zhonglou, or Bell Tower, such structures performed important elements within early Chinese urban life. They were timekeepers when people had no clocks or watches. That street was lined with shops, restaurants and cafes at a higher level than Qufu's size would normally warrant, surely a response to its largely seasonal tourist foot traffic.
I was reaching the city moat and approaching a passage through the Ming walls. It was a moment to stand there, to watch the everyday passing scene. Pedicabs and horse-drawn tourist carts meandered slowly past. Willows lined the walkway between the walls and moat as I headed westwards to a square in front of the South Gate. It once provided secure passage into what had been a compact, walled city. While photographing I was also looking at people. Older generations sat on stone benches watching, as they probably do every day, while the tourists were posing for selfies or looking in awe at the remaining Ming structures. Some visitors would possibly be thinking back to how this area had appeared or resembled over past centuries. I could picture the traders of days gone by, arriving by horse or on foot, the markets and street stalls, the steam from countless food stalls, the bustling noisy scenes during festivals. This area must have amazing stories to tell if only stones could talk. History indeed is written in stone. It was however crowded during my visit with schoolchildren, many dressed Confucian-style for a visit to the vast temple compound within its walls is currently an important element in educating about China's cultural legacy.
Crossing the moat, passing through the arch I entered a large enclosed courtyard, surrounded by high walls. This was a strongly defensive double gate structure typical of Ming city design. Beyond that second arch lay the Confucius Temple south entrance which I would later visit. Instead I walked slowly now inside the city walls, passing souvenir kiosks, before reaching Queli Street. Although touristy, catering for the annual flow of visitors mostly heading toward the mansion, it had retained some of the fascination of my earlier China travels. Older buildings, gateways, sizzling food stalls were there within a traffic-free environment. I was falling in love with Qufu, its history, its architectural style and particularly the friendliness of the people. I felt indeed very welcome in this community where many residents can actually trace their pedigree back to Confucius.
The tourism drive in Qufu got an unprecedented boost in 2013. During a visit by President Xi Jinping to Qufu he expressed his wish for China to embrace its traditional culture, assisting the country’s development and progress. President Xi hoped Qufu could thus help strengthen the study and promotion of Confucianism.
I will look more at this in a subsequent feature on Qufu and its relationship with Confucius.
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