Ducks, ducks, ducks

To bananafish everywhere: This came from a dear friend who
always prefers to remain anonymous.

I don't know where it originates, but wanted to pass it
along in the spirit of the winter days.

Best wishes from New York.

--tim

Monday, December 15, 2003
Feathered friends

NAILENE CHOU WIEST

Holden Caulfield, in The Catcher in the Rye, asks what
happens to the ducks in New York's Central Park when
the pond freezes over. The grown-ups have no patience
with the question.

That got me thinking. Has anyone wondered what happens
to the ducks in Beijing's parks now that the lakes are
covered with ice?

No, they do not end up on the table as roasted Peking
ducks. Their gamey taste would ruin the reputation of
the capital's fine delicacy.

In summer, I have watched ducks swimming in the greenish
waters of the park in Houhai, which is rapidly becoming
the new trendy bar district. As the harsh winter sets in,
the outdoor plastic tables and chairs disappear. And so
do the ducks.

In fact, their welfare is on the minds of old and the
young alike in the neighbourhood. It warms my heart to
see a picture in the Beijing News of a few ducks casting
shadows on the lake's glassy surface. The wild ducks make
their home on the south shore, where the people who
live in the narrow alleys and traditional courtyards have
adopted them. But they like to spend their days on the
north shore, where they enjoy the open space, the sun and
warmer water.

Ice forming outwards from the shore had gradually narrowed
the channel which the ducks use to swim between home and
their playground.

One early afternoon, the man who hires out boats in warmer
days saw that the encroaching ice had covered the channel,
while the ducks sunned themselves on the north shore. So,
he used one of his boats as an ice-breaker to clear the
channel. After five hours of smashing the ice with an
oar, he finally got to the ducks, leaving behind him a
four-metre wide, 500-metre long channel.

The stranded ducks plopped into the water and swam home at
dusk. Just as they set off, their exhausted saviour lost his
balance and fell into the icy water. He quickly climbed
back into the boat and headed back to his shack to dry off.

For some of the elderly people in the neighbourhood,
feeding the wild ducks is as serious a task as walking the
dog. Carrying their day-old steamed buns to the lakeside,
they call out ya, ya, (ducky, ducky) and the birds move in
for the food "like obedient children".

Children in the nearby elementary school are taught to love
the wild ducks; a duck club has even been formed.

The lakeside neighbourhood has seen the rise and fall of
dynastic fortunes. The stately palaces, which once belonged
to some of the most powerful figures of the imperial clan,
are still part of the landscape. Today, bars throng the
streets. Beijing white-collar workers love their new haunt
for what they call the "petit-bourgeois ambiance".

In The Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield struggles
with the fact that everyone has to grow up.

Beijing also struggles with its development. The wild ducks
and their saviour in his boat are a reminder that innocence
still lives on.

-30-
Received on Mon Dec 22 12:33:29 2003