Chongqing
With a population of over 30 million, Chongqing is the largest city you’ve never heard of. Located in the country’s south-east with few famous draw cards and a pretty woeful reputation for air quality, it doesn’t usually feature on a tourist’s itinerary.
I arrived in Chongqing in the late afternoon. The air quality was foul. It was thick with the taste of car-exhaust and burnt plastic, but the city was buzzing with activity.
Foreigner Street
I scoured my Lonely Planet book for an evening activity. One entry caught my eye: “Foreigner Street”. I was keen to meet some expats and find out more about the city, so Foreigner Street sounded like a good start.
My taxi pulled up beneath a large highway overpass. A neon sign read “Non Theme Park”. Just what I was after.
Foreigner Street: Non Theme Park
Admittedly, it wasn’t quite what I was expecting. The sides of the avenue were skirted by shops and amusement games, most of them were closed. There were a few groups of locals drinking, smoking, playing cards, square dancing and playing ping pong.
A sign in English optimistically proclaimed “Healthy Entertainment”. Beneath it sat a few parents smoking with their children next to them, in the pollution-ridden underpass.
I scanned the area. Where were the foreigners?
I drew attention as I moved through the complex. At last, a foreigner had arrived at Foreigner Street!
The Chairlift
I noticed a chairlift stretching out of the complex. The dangling chairs slowly drifted out into the evening until they were lost to the darkness. I couldn’t see anyone on the ride.
A sign proudly claimed it was “the first hanging basket rope in China” and it showed. The installation looked like it was well due for replacement. But I was curious: where did this chairlift go?
The English translations on the signs didn’t help. “… after the coin cableway ride play bear infested after there is no need to get off…” Bear infested? I didn’t need to be told twice: I bought a beer and a ticket, opting for the “Bold people can sit” chairs.
The locals watched on as the smiling, beer-carrying foreigner boarded the decrepit contraption and was whisked into the darkness.
Chairlift, beer in hand
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust. The noise of the highway underpass faded off into the distance, replaced only by the creaking cableway. It jolted forwards every second. I scanned the signage on the side of the chair cart. One read: “in case of problem, call Mr Yuan 049474373”.
The sign hadn’t aged well. If Mr Yuan was still with us, I doubt he’d be rushing to my aid before the bears got to me.
The chairlift took me further into the dark and polluted evening sky. Abandoned water slides appeared below me. Then a giant sphinx statue, a great wall atop a hill and a European styled-street.
Church bells rang out from below. Then a cuckoo call. Something weird was going on here. It was like the beginning of a low budget horror movie.
I made out a large sign below: “Foreigners street advocates public economies following the scientific outlook on development”.
A ghostly performance
At last, a chairlift station appeared. I heard music. English lyrics. At last, foreigners! I strolled through the abandoned streets towards the tune. A stage and a huge viewing emerged before me. A cast of singers with elaborate stage lighting were mid-way through a performance.
The concert where the performers outnumber the audience..
The weird thing? My appearance had doubled the size of the audience. The only other audience member in this huge venue was cleaner who had stopped for a break.
I stuck around for a few songs. I’m sure they appreciated my solo applause at the end of each hit.
On the way out one more sign caught my eye: “Gave him a dollar a day, just for one day not to give. He will be okay. Every day to give him a slap. Only one day not to give. He will be grateful.”
That apparent Chinese proverb just about summed up Foreigner Street: It had slapped me with so much randomness that I didn’t know what to think, but I was certainly grateful for the experience.
