In the winter of 2015, my family went to see my uncle with whom we hadn’t met for decades. He lived in Harbin, a freezing city with low temperature that seems unimaginable for southern dwellers. Off the plane, we were embraced by crisp wintry air and also my uncle’s family. It’s hard to say whether we were lucky or not for it stopped snowing the day on our arrival and the climate was tolerable.
The first meal we had was noodles. The small restaurant was near the fabled Central Avenue where we went sightseeing after lunch. Harbin is a city famous for its Russian-style buildings and the Central Avenue is a typical place to see around. (But it has always been a mystery to me why Chinese border cities are influenced by the neighbouring countries and not the other way around.) The shops there sold Russian food and I bought some as presents to my friends.
The Central Avenue led us to the Songhua River which was frozen. Had the ice been thicker, cars would have been able to travel on it. But lots of citizens were brave enough to play on the ice. I went down to the frozen river gingerly and stared into distance. The wide river turned into a broad plain of ice covered by frost. The icy sight blew my mind and I soaked up the atmosphere of the northern city.
