I Live by the Songhua River

By LI QIANG

Having worked in the television industry for 15 years, I've been to various Chinese, European and American cities, but of all of them I like my hometown, Harbin in Northeastern China's Heliongjang Province, the best. My affection stems neither from Harbin's beauty nor my nostalgia, but from the city's distinctive glamour.

Harbin's unique culture came into being because of two major events: the Nüzhen, ancestors of the Manchu ethnic group, establishing their capital in what is now Harbin 800 years ago, and the influx of foreign immigrants in the 20th century. Both of these groups introduced distinct cultural elements to Harbin.

Nüzhen Tradition

As the imperial residence of the Jin Dynasty (1115-1234), Harbin was once prosperous. After the fall of the Jin at the hands of Mongols, it entered a period of decline, at the end of which it was little more than a small fishing village. However, the cultural legacy of the bold, uninhibited and hospitable Nüzhen remained.

In winter, the Nüzhen hunted on the frozen Songhua River by the light of the ice lanterns they made. This is the origin of the world famous Harbin ice lantern. Today, some farming households still retain the custom. Ice lanterns are created by setting an iron barrel full of water outdoors, and when half frozen, removing the top layer, warming the barrel over a fire to free the bulk of ice from it, and putting a bulb inside.

The city of Harbin is also known for its hospitality -- if one household cooks a sumptuous dish, the neighbors are invited to share. This custom is part of the Nüzhen culture. In ancient times, the Nüzhen people thrived on fishing and hunting. If one family caught prey, the whole community would sit together and share it. Harbin natives still live by the old saying "One family kills a pig, the whole neighborhood sees pork on the table."

Open to the World

Construction of the China Eastern Railway brought a second wave of prosperity to Harbin, making it among the first group of cities to accept modern civilization and open to the outside world. After 1914, a total of 16 countries, including Japan, the UK, France, the US and Italy, set up consulates and established a total of 300 international corporations in Harbin. The city became home to many displaced foreigners. At the peak of immigration to Harbin, 170,000 of the city’s 300,000 inhabitants were foreigners. Harbin became a cosmopolitan center. Its thousands of industrial, commercial, and financial enterprises were engaged in import and export trade, and directly connected with Tokyo, New York, Berlin, Osaka and Paris. As Northeast China's biggest commodity market and goods and materials distribution center, merchants from all over China came to Harbin to do business. As a result, Harbin's development boomed, and it boasted China's first ski resort, cinema, Western style restaurant and tourist train.

Russians and Westerners brought their politics, economic practices, culture, folk customs and religions. Cultural exchanges brought not only architectural masterpieces, but also imbued the city with an exotic flavor. Harbin has little traditional Chinese architecture with upturned eaves and brackets, but abounds in European architectures; Byzantine, Renaissance, and Roman styles pervade the city. When I was young, I liked to stroll along Central Street, the only one in the world with multiple European architectural styles. With a history of less than one century, the 1433.5-meter avenue concentrates Western architectural culture accumulated over past centuries, presenting Baroque, Roccoco, Classic, Eclectic, Greek, and Art Nouveau styles.

I was born in Harbin. At age 21, I came to Beijing for further study, and was ill at ease with the low-ceilinged, small-roomed traditional Chinese architecture. I remember my grandmother's big Russian style courtyard, the dances that our neighbors would hold on weekends in the ballroom built by Russians, and Russian songs like Kaqewsa and Night in Moscow's Suburbs. Harbin's European architecture has been branded in my heart -- I have an innate intimacy with European culture. In 1999, I went to Boston for the first time, and felt completely at home. As a first stop for many European immigrants, Boston shares many of Harbin's architectural flourishes.

Immigrants to Harbin were mostly industrious merchants and workers that got along well with locals. Influenced by foreign immigrants, especially Russian, Harbiners spent weekends by the Songhua River -- an ongoing custom. Shortly after the founding of the People's Republic of China in 1949, the economy was not good, but people there did not break with tradition. I still remember how citizens of Harbin lounged on the riverbanks, drinking beer and eating Harbin sausage and bread.

When I was a child, I lived near the Culture Park, site of a tomb memorializing revolutionary martyrs from the Soviet Union who died liberating Harbin. The park is now China's iceskating training base. After class my friends and I liked to climb the high brick wall behind Songjiang Primary School to the park where there were uncovered stone coffins and stone tablets with inlaid black-and-white pictures. During recess, we gazed at these faces, many of them still young.

Harbin is currently undergoing its third period of assimilation -- it is entering the global economy as a crucial sector of Northeast Asian economic development. A city adept at assimilating various characteristics while retaining its own style, Harbin will not miss any chance to develop.