It seems almost unfashionable now to point out that China’s rapid modernisation over the past few decades has led to some intriguing cultural incongruities, where ancient traditions coexist almost symbiotically with contemporary lifestyles. But it’s still one that fascinates me daily even as I notch up my first decade here in the Middle Kingdom.
On the one hand, we have a society that still promotes traditional values such as filial piety, Confucianism, and the celebration of historical festivals. On the other, we have the younger generations; Millennials and Gen Zs, influenced by globalisation and digitalisation, increasingly embracing consumerism and individualism.
Here in the Yangtze River Delta, this cultural incongruity is clearly evident. Walk down Zhongshan Nan Lu in our own Nanjing and it is hard to miss the traditional Chinese medicine shop squeezed between the siren symbol of Starbucks (yes, a siren not a mermaid. Sirens are often depicted with two tails; check your coffee cup next time you pay a visit) and the snow white goatee of Colonel Sanders himself.
I remember one of the first times I visited Shanghai way back in 2014. As I walked around the tourist trap that is Yuyuan Garden, I instinctively looked up. Hidden between all of the bridges, ponds, teahouses, pavilions, there was a small gap of mere centimetres. In that gap, nestled between the architecture of the Ming and Qing Dynasties, I saw a skyscraper.
In that instant, the cultural incongruities of China hit me. I’m not sure even if it was one of the glittering towers in nearby Pudong or not, but that difference between old and new, the dichotomy between traditional and modern China fascinated me, and it has almost every single day since then.
I’m forever looking up now, seeking out those dichotomies between old and new.
A recent trip back to that sprawling metropolis east of here led me to stay in a Ming Dynasty courtyard hotel. Exquisite and historical, I spent my evenings sat at the door looking up at the towering neon skyscraper overlooking the Ming courtyard. Old and new squashed together yet again, and a view I did not want to stop looking at. I was mesmerised.
Back here in our very own Nanjing, it was once the middle of February when I found myself stood on the city walls freezing my behind off as it started to drizzle around me. I’d left my umbrella at home (rookie mistake there) and the grey skies were slowly darkening.
Looking out over the boats on Xuanwu Lake, envious of their passengers’ shelter from the now heavier drizzle, I turned around and see the cityscape slowly start to blink to life.
My eyes darted from the historical city wall to the twinkling city lights and I was sent back to that first time looking between that tiny gap in Yuyuan Gardens.
Admiring this juxtaposition, I tighten up my scarf around my naked neck and carry on walking along the wall, all the while considering that clash of history, architecture, the dichotomy between traditional and modern China.
Today, and just a stones throw away from the wall (well, metaphorically so (it’s more like a good 30 minutes walk if you walk as fast as me) is the Yihe Lu Residence Area. Feeling as if in the French Concession in Shanghai, it’s easy to get lost in the Republic of China-era mansions and architecture. Just ignore the crowds of photographers and wannabe models. Walk a little further through the crowded streets and look up…
It’s become a little cliché now, but that view of the narrow street with the 23rd tallest building in the world (at the time of writing) right down the middle in the distance is what sold Nanjing for me.
The incongruous Zifeng Tower standing astride Gulou and Xuanwu districts at sunset became a fast favourite sight of mine.
I see it everywhere now; TikTok, Instagram, Xiaohongshu, but the first time I ever laid my eyes on that setting, it epitomised everything I came to love about the incongruous and dichotomous China of today.
The silent tension between preserving cultural heritage and adapting to the 21st century and beyond is thrilling to see first-hand. One piece of advice, open your eyes and look up.
