In the official Rogues Gallery of Chinese Communist
history, perhaps no villain looms larger than Chiang Kai-shek.
Even the Gang of Four stands a little higher: They were, after
all, but overzealous Maoists. Chiang remains enshrined in
infamy mainly for the bloody White Terror of 1927, in which he
ruthlessly hounded out and executed thousands of Communists;
for his policy of chasing the Communists instead of resisting
the Japanese during the Second World War; and for his
collaboration with China's most notorious and violent
gangsters. And yet many Chinese have nevertheless come to hold
the Generalissimo in a certain if grudging esteem as a
remarkable individual and a powerful leader. Nowhere is this
more apparent than at Chiang's ancestral home in Fenghua
district in Zhejiang Province.
Americans know Chiang Kai-shek as either the anti-Communist
crusader with the charming, American-educated wife (Song
Meiling) or as the corrupt, wartime-aid-sucker christened in
some Washington circles as "Cash My-check." Chinese know him
best as the stern, disciplined, and rigidly traditional
Chinese man depicted in countless movies about the War of
Resistance Against Japan and the Civil War. A severe ascetic,
he refrained not only from liquor but even from tea,
restricting himself from all beverages but hot water.
Chiang Kai-shek was the son of middle class salt
vendors in the little village of Xikou in Fenghua. Even today,
Xikou consists of a single main street connected to the
expressway, swallowed by mountains on three sides and embraced
by farmlands on the other. At the foot of the mountains sits
the old village of Xikou, housing Chiang's dozen or so
residences and monuments. The other stretch of the street
houses the bus station and an expanse of hotels: Surprisingly,
the hometown of Chiang Kai-shek has become a popular tourist
attraction. Filial Taiwan compatriots flock in during the
grave-sweeping festival of Qingming, but they're vastly
outnumbered by their Mainland counterparts the rest of the
time.
Rising at dawn to a chorus of bullfrogs, we headed out in
search of the enigmatic Chiang Kai-shek. We first stopped to
breakfast on a long, ¥2 stalk of raw sugar cane--that
quintessential countryside treat that dribbles down the chin
and leaves fingers delectably, impossibly sticky.
The Wuling Gate divides old Xikou from the modern
installment of tourist hotels; to its right sits the
unimpressive Xikou Museum. Once a combination temple and opera
hall, with its raised stage still ensconced in the entry
courtyard, the museum details traditional customs of the
region. Besides Chiang Kai-shek, Xikou lacks history of any
note. The exhibits consist of the usual life-size wax
people--in this case, sedan chair bearers--along with a number
of smaller dioramas depicting scenes of daily life and
practices during festivals, not much different from today.
Beyond the gate, passersby are swamped by an army of
bicycle rickshaws offering to show them around. We found one
who would take us around to all the sights for a lump fee of
¥30; we discovered too late that all locations were in a
walking radius of five minutes. A ¥35 tour ticket buys
entrance to all of the Chiang Kai-shek related buildings,
while the ¥70 ticket includes that, the parks and the "Journey
to the West" Children's Palace, which we opted to avoid.
The first stop is the Yutai Salt Shop, the family business
where Chiang Kai-shek was born. The medium-sized building is
austerely practical, and most of the rooms are conspicuously
empty. Except for a few traditional chairs, tables, and
cavernous Ningbo-style beds scattered about the occasional
compartment, most of the building is an extended gallery of
enlarged black-and-white photos, captioned in Chinese and
English. One room is dedicated to pictures of the extended
Chiang family and another to the immediate family and Chiang
in his youth.
Next comes the requisite and impressive Fenggao Hall, the
General's family home. Once a respectable, middle-class gentry
home, it was expanded and embellished after Chiang's ascension
with gold-painted eaves and various Shanghai-inspired Western
flourishes. Apart from the ancestral shrine, Fenggao Hall is
also conspicuously absent of furniture, a trend that continues
in the other sights that fill our afternoon. Cultural
Revolution rage was directed at the vestiges of the Kuomintang
and its leaders with unmitigated intensity. Red Guards even
defaced the nearby grave of the General's mother, almost
prompting military intervention. It's surprising that the
buildings were left standing.
Fenggao Hall's photo gallery details the
Generalissimo's rather convoluted personal life. At a young
age, he married Mao Fumei, chosen by his parents. She bore
Chiang Ching-kuo, who inherited the leadership of Taiwan after
his father's death in 1975. In 1927, Chiang divorced Mao in
order to marry Song Meiling, of Shanghai's powerful Song
(Soong)family, who insisted on being "head wife" instead of
concubine. Mao Fumei was killed by a Japanese air raid in
December, 1939; the lane in back of the Fenggao Hall kitchen
where the shell exploded and the iron window bars bent by the
blast are on display. Mao's remains were buried at the Chiang
ancestral compound nearby at Mo Ke Dian. One intriguing photo
shows Chiang and the smartly-dressed Song Meiling performing
the ritual obeisances at Mao's grave. Chiang also took on two
young concubines, one of whom, after being exiled to the US,
wrote a bitter tell-all entitled Chiang Kai-Shek's Secret
Past: The Memoir of His Second Wife, Chen Chieh-Ju. That
she was actually his third wife seemed to have escaped the
fact checkers.
When tired of the overdose of history and
photographs, the traveler to Xikou can run for the hills,
literally. Mount Xueduo looming above Xikou contains natural
scenes such as the reservoir of Tingxia Lake, the Xufu Cliff
and Qianzhang Cliff waterfalls, and the Three Hidden Pools.
All of these are reachable by mini-buses leaving from Wuling
Gate and costing ¥10 for the trip.
The winding trip up to the Xufu waterfall took us past
rustic villages, imposing forests, and tea-planted hillsides.
The Xufu cliff drops down dramatically, and the railed edge
was full of rural tourists peering over the edge in blatant
disregard of the signs declaring, "Beware of missing foot." A
staircase tower set against the cliff took us eighteen stories
down, halfway to the base of the waterfall, and a narrow path
strewn with peach-colored blossoms and the corpses of crushed
caterpillars took us the rest of the way. Near a picturesque
old bridge, the water falls upon a heap of sturdy black
boulders surrounded by sand-colored pebbles upon which the few
tourists who braved the trek down reclined.
We masochistically opted to hike down from the Xufu Cliff
Waterfall, and encountered a two-hour journey of disappearing
trails and spectacular beauty. The descent eventually led into
neglected tea plots carved into the foothills and a seemingly
ancient dam restraining a glistening green lake. The hike was
worth the effort, as much for the simple villages at the base
of the mountains as the scenery on the way. Consider that, if
not for one notable son of a salt seller, the tourist-swamped
Xikou would probably still resemble these unassuming clusters.
Getting There:
From Shanghai, head
to Ningbo by train (6 hours) or bus (3 ½ hours). From Ningbo's
South Station, a mini-bus (mianbao che) to Xikou takes 40
minutes and costs ¥7.
Where to Stay:
A number
of three star tourist dives on the new section of Wuling Lu
offer doubles from ¥150 to ¥200. To stay closer to the Chiang
Kai-shek action, stay at the Zhongxin Garden Hotel next to the
Wuling Gate or at the Wuling Hotel just across the river. The
Xikou Hotel is located on Gongyuan Lu at Zhongxing Xi Lu, next
to Chiang's mother's tomb.