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I AM accompanying my father, Minister Mentor Lee Kuan Yew, on an official visit to China.
We had planned originally to go directly to the Shanghai World Expo. But the night before departure, my father re-arranged his schedule and accepted an invitation from his old friend, former Chinese President Jiang Zemin, to visit him in his home town Yangzhou.
So we flew directly from Singapore to Nanjing, then drove two hours to Mr Jiang's home in Yangzhou, next to Shouxi Hu, a man-made lake well known for its beautiful scenery.
On the way, we passed greenery. I saw flowering shrubs and a variety of trees planted on the road dividers and the roadsides. The bushes and shrubs were neatly trimmed and the flowers bright and colourful. These were all clearly the result of human attempts to make the drive more relaxing.
I also saw many public flats that looked as good as our HDB flats. Many had solar panels on the rooftops. The electricity generated is used to heat up water. I laughed to myself that the Chinese here had gone soft and now needed hot baths. Then I remembered that even in tropical Singapore, our people take hot or warm baths. I am eccentric in taking cold showers even in winter. I was told that at present, on a total cost basis, using solar panels to generate electricity was not yet competitive against the electricity from ordinary power generators. But to me, the solar panels showed a willingness to experiment.
Mr Jiang really rolled out the red carpet for us. We were entertained in a posh guest house. He and his wife extended us a very warm welcome. He was genuinely happy to meet my father again after their last meeting four years ago. He was jovial and friendly.
The other guests present were senior Chinese Communist Party officials, such as the party secretary of Jiangsu province and the governor of the province.
Mr Jiang's wife, the only member of his delegation who was there as a spouse, sat beside me. I felt rather overwhelmed by the honour that was accorded to me. I was entirely aware that this was due to the personal friendship between Mr Jiang and my father.
The invitation to visit the former President in his home town was a great honour to my father. I heard that the only other foreign dignitary who had been similarly honoured was former French President Jacques Chirac, also a very good friend of Mr Jiang's.
Mr Jiang spoke to us in Mandarin and English, and told us he could also speak and read Russian and Romanian. He recounted a speech he made at his alma mater Jiao Tong University in Shanghai in the 1980s, when he was mayor of the city. The students at the university had initially been rude to him and had gestured to him to keep quiet. Instead, he recited Abraham Lincoln's Gettysburg Address. The students were stunned and gave him an overwhelming ovation.
Dinner was a feast of Yangzhou delicacies, including finely chopped tofu which looked like threads. The chef himself was brought out to demonstrate his skill. He had been doing it for 20 years since the age of 19. I thought to myself, this must have taken a great deal of dedication; so much work had gone into producing something that was to be eaten within 10 minutes. I guess he must do other things in addition to cutting soft tofu into fine threads. If I had to do his work, I would have resigned by the end of the first day.
After dinner, we went on a boat cruise on Shouxi Hu. It had initially been a moat (huchenhe) before it was converted into a lake.
Chinese-style pavilions were scattered in and around the lake. The pavilions were outlined with fairy lights, their roofs invariably with red lights. Various musical groups were performing Chinese classical music or dances on other boats near ours, as well in the lighted pavilions. I said to my father that many man- and woman-hours must have gone into planning this beautiful boat ride and cultural display in his honour.
One of Mr Jiang's delegation members said the lake was open to the public in spring, summer and autumn. Tourists from all over China come to enjoy the scenery and cultural activities.
The tour guide gave us an eloquent description of all the points of special beauty around the lake. She interspersed her account with poems by famous writers waxing eloquent about the scenery.
A pretty lady dressed in traditional costume gave a skilled performance on the guzheng, a classical Chinese string instrument, and sang to her own accompaniment. I enjoyed her music and asked if I could have a CD of her playing the guzheng and her singing. The local party secretary, a relatively young woman, said she would try to get one for me.
It had been a long day for all of us and we reached our hotel in Nanjing at midnight. We felt exhausted. My father did not get the opportunity to do his daily exercise, and it was an arduous journey for him at his age.
I know my father. He willingly took on the tiring trip to show that he does not forget old friends who have retired. So too Mr Jiang, with his special invitation to my father. It has been a unique and worthwhile journey.
