to race a tiger

Anything that walks, swims, crawls or flies with its back to heaven is edible

(Cantonese Proverb)

 

It is lunchtime.

In the markets the crowds are building and the air hangs thick with the smell of salt, oil, charcoal and meat. Hungry shoppers shoulder past each other on the look out for a bargain or their favourite snack, drawn in by price and colour and scent.

 

One stall sells seaweed wraps, another sweet pastries with kidney bean paste and sweetcorn stuffed in the centre. This one displays pale slices of melon, another chilli beef noodles, or pungent crab meat in dumplings. There are bowls of salted peanuts and bags of rice and spices.

 

 

But it is the shop down a covered alley and to the left where the crowds really are. Here there are young children and adults alike clamouring round and a shopkeeper who is kept busy handling customers.

For he sells starfish. Silkworms, brown and ribbed like tiny, misshaped cigars. Seahorse, stiff and glass eyed. Scorpions, three to a stick. They are still alive and wriggling.

And that tray of kebabs he has? Is it beef? Chicken? Mutton?

'Dog,' he confirms with a smile. 'Tastes good.'

 

 

Let me tell you a story.

Many, many centuries ago, the Jade Emperor, who rules from Heaven, decided that there should be a way to count the passing of the years. Sending out a proclamation across the lands he decreed that there would be a great race amongst all the beasts of the earth. The first twelve animals to cross through the vast forest and over the deep river would have a year named after them.

At dawn on the appointed day every creature assembled, and with the first rays of light the race began. Through a mixture of trickery and betrayal the rat won. He was followed by the kindly Ox, whom he had duped into carrying him across the broad river. The Tiger came next, dragging his powerful body from the water. Rabbit hopped after, having made his way over the water by rocks jutting from the river. The mighty Dragon was awarded fifth place, having stopped on his journey to bring rain to a drought riddled land. The Snake slithered from beneath the hooves of Horse to claim sixth place, forcing Horse backwards in fright and into seventh. Ram, Monkey and Rooster arrived together on a raft they had crafted. Dog appeared later, having stopped to wash himself in the river. Pig, having fallen asleep almost as soon as the race began was granted 12^th place.

Thus the shengxiao or Chinese Zodiac was born and the years named and measured.

It's a lovely story from Chinese folklore. But that's all it is. A legend. A myth. As with all myths it concentrates on the symbols and misses the details.

Like the fact that the Chinese have a complicated relationship with their animals. Like the fact that of all the animals in the story the only one that is not considered as food is the Dragon, which is both sacred to the Chinese and imaginary. That the Chinese may name their years after their animals but that doesn't mean they aren't still tasty. That though many people in the country are Buddhist and therefore vegetarian, considering the balance of all life to be sacred, many other people will eat anything that moves and they will eat all parts of it. The brain. The heart. The eyes. That many will happily eat dog and have a pet chihuahua at home, because there is a difference between restaurant dog and pet dog.

At feeding time at Harbin Tiger Park they pay homage to their folklore, but instead of assembling all the beasts of the earth to the race they only have two competitors.

One hungry tiger. One live duck.

The legend talks of Tiger, who came third, all grace and strength and power. But it does not speak of the smell of Tiger. The unmistakable scent that hangs, hot and tangible in the air, like a musky blanket pressed against your face. The smell of power and anticipation. 

The legend of the Zodiac does not speak of Duck. Unmentioned, Duck is too slow to have a year named after him and loses to the other competitors.

The keepers release the animals into the pen and the assembled tourists crowd round, munching on their own lunch, cameras poised to capture the finish.

Some things in legend will always remain true.

In a race, Tiger will always win against Duck.