Chine, le fleuve des métamorphoses : voyage au fil des mégalopoles et traditions – Documentaire AMP

Chine, le fleuve des métamorphoses : voyage au fil des mégalopoles et traditions – Documentaire AMP

David and I first discovered
China through art, traditional Chinese medicine, and
cinema, of course, but our interest in the country took shape through travel. One of the oldest civilizations
in the world, the most populated territory on the planet, a media,
political and economic theater that is as fascinating as it is fresh, China nevertheless remains
a mystery and its population little known. 1,300 million souls. We crossed the country for more than
3,500 kilometers along the Blue River, the Yangtze, and its tributaries. Our trip was motivated by a triple
desire, the desire to discover the faces of contemporary China. How do these women and men we
met along our journey live? What is their daily life like? What are their dreams and hopes? The desire to explore,
to confront the complexity of the country,
its abundance and its contradictions in the same territory,
within a plural human group. The desire to grasp the metamorphosis
at work, since China has been changing exponentially for 50 years. Welcome to Tsun Jing. The starting point of our journey,
this megalopolis is paradoxically little known outside the country’s borders. Located in Sichuan province,
at the confluence of the Yangtze and one of its main tributaries, the Jailing,
it occupies a strategic position thanks to the Blue River which has
always guaranteed it an essential commercial role. From South Africa. Since the construction of
the Three Gorges Dam, capital has been pouring in. The Chinese government is trying
to clone the miraculous growth of its east coast inland. Tsong Jing dreams of being in Shanghai,
in central China. Tsong Jing is a peak, a cape,
a total excess that would make New York or San Francisco pale. The change of scale is dizzying. It is a graphic city,
resolutely vertical. Ground. These forests of skyscrapers compete for
square meters of steep hills nestled in the mountains. Under constant construction,
the old neighborhoods are being razed. The towers grow like bamboo. This gigantism gives us
a feeling of dizziness, of intoxication. 33 million inhabitants in an area
equivalent to Austria, an urban city center of 14 million
souls, 500,000 new inhabitants per year, or one million every two years. A double-digit growth rate
for more than 15 years. We fell under the strange spell
of this global city that shook us, hypnotized us, and never stopped
questioning our gaze. We were particularly attached to these
inhabitants, porcelain subjects in the city and the ends. We discover the bang bang,
street porters who are the emblem of Tsun Jing and found
nowhere else in China. Bang bangs have been around
for centuries. They are linked to the very
particular topography of the city, built entirely in relief. They carried goods arriving
from the Yangtze to the city center, climbing stairs
and steep alleys. Working exclusively with a
bamboo stick on their shoulder, most are ming mongs,
immigrants from the surrounding countryside. 1.50 meters of muscle, a smile,
energy to spare, we get to know
Yang Bang Tsé and share a little of the journey. He came to Tsun Jing to look for work and has been bang bang for over ten years. Before, I worked on two
construction sites and earned little money. I used to work day and night,
but now that I’m bang bang, I have my time free
and I earn a little more. When I was in construction, I renovated apartments. I was digging the ground, removing
mud and debris, that sort of thing. It’s more tiring than being bang bang. On a construction site, you have to
work all the time. Bang bangs are very free. When I’m tired,
I can stop to chat. As soon as someone calls me, I come right away. Bang Bangs almost disappeared
about ten years ago, overtaken by the proliferation
of elevators in buildings, scooters and cars,
but also by the rise of the Internet and home deliveries. Yang Bong-se, however, resists,
accepting any type of order. He exceptionally drops his stick
to carry the fridge on his back, but he is part
of the last generation of street porters from Tong Jing. I’ll be bang bang until my
legs can’t walk anymore. Around 60 years old. At 60, I stop.
Another ten years. Here we are in Cheung Chau, on the edge
of Cheung Ching, near the mountains. A change of scenery guaranteed. Like the surrounding new suburbs
, these former rural lands have been concreted over for five
years as part of a social housing plan for farmers. Moving overnight from small
wooden houses to bars in 30- story buildings,
these former farmers have gained a lot in comfort,
but few have lost their good habits linked
to cultivating the land. The surrounding fields are
shared gardens cultivated voluntarily by the residents themselves. We are struck by this contrast
between city centre and rurality, the synchronicity of
modern and traditional lifestyles. Cheung-shou appears as a setting
for a contemporary western. A couple in their sixties working
the land catches our attention. Former farmers,
they were relocated to a brand new apartment four years ago. Sue is now a
public maintenance worker. Her husband is retired. She tells us that her life in the countryside
was very hard and tells us the story of this change. I am 55 years old. I was part of the
Engun Tan commune cooperative. Because of the construction of the station,
everyone moved here. Shopping streets and old
roads have been destroyed. We rented a house which was very
small and cost us 400 yen a month. Before, it was too small. Now it’s much better. We have a beautiful apartment with two
bedrooms, a living room. It’s perfect for me and my husband. The countryside is not good. You have to work very hard
to earn very little money. Now I work a maximum of 8 hours
a day and can earn more than 2,000 yen a month. When I retire, I would like to
go out and dance in the evening. Yes, that’s what I want. From one metro to another,
we return to the heart of Tsong Jing, which this time appears to us
as a Swiss cheese town. We successively cross the river
at an altitude of 100 meters, piercing the mountains, flying over
road interchanges of all sizes. Unique in the world, a metro line
crosses a building from one side to the other. On the subway, we come across
young girls with surprising looks. They invite us to follow them
and discover the cosplay convention they are going to. Places that reveal the quest
for identity of the young Chinese generation. Fans of manga, Japanese cartoons
and video games gather there to share their passion
as much as to indulge in a giant selfie competition. We love playing video games
and watching cartoons. We really like
role-playing and dressing up. Cosplay is not yet
very popular in China. Some people love it, but most
adults don’t appreciate it too much. We love collecting photos. We take selfies of our characters
and send them to each other via WeChat or QQ. That’s what we do. The night Tsong Jing blazes. The electricity fairy gives its
nocturnal beauty and its excess an even more grandiose dimension. The city is under assault. These light shows attract
hundreds of thousands of tourists. Tonight, Tsong Jing,
separated from the lights of Las Vegas. Here we are, caught in a sea of ​​people
where we struggle to make our way. The crowd is dense,
but the atmosphere is warm. We leave this ultimate,
bustling, and insatiable world city from the Cheung Siang Men pavilion,
where cruise ships depart on the Yangtze River for Fengdu. We admire the succession of
luminous facades of skyscrapers, our heads full of questions. How much energy will it take to fuel such growth?
Where will Tsong Jing end? Here we are in Fengdu,
bathed in that diaphanous , milky light so characteristic of China. Unreal navigation
on the waters of the Blue River. Fengdu is not just any small
provincial town. The Yangtze separates two worlds. On the north bank, the world of the Dead,
the ghost town of Fengdou, known as Mount Mingsheng,
which combines the seat of Hell and that of Heaven. A thousand-year-old place considered
the Chinese cradle of Dantes’ divine comedy,
has become a tourist site on the Yangtze cruise route. On the south shore, the world of the living. Barely emerging from the morning mist,
the new town of Fengdu was rebuilt in 1999, at the time of the construction
of the Three Gorges Dam, where the inhabitants were relocated
after the rising waters in 2002. Between the two banks,
the remains of the old town of Fengdu, submerged under
the waters of its nourishing river, emerge. Our catharsis in the ghost town
begins, but unlike Dantes, we ascend to hell by cable car. Ghosts everywhere. A ghost town,
all temples perched in a sky blocked by mist, humidity and the
vapors of a river that have become bulimic. In Taoist mythology, Mount Mingshan is the seat of hell,
a place in the afterlife where the dead who were
unable to leave the earthly world reside. The ghost town evokes the
invisible world of Chinese spirituality with its gods, ghosts and demons,
its courts, prisons and torture chambers. Its deeply syncretic history
spans two millennia. 27 temples bear witness to the three
Chinese cultural jewels of Taoism, Buddhism and Confucianism. We must pass, like the souls of the
deceased, through a series of three pitfalls. First,
we must cross the river of blood by passing over the Abyss Bridge. It separates the world of the living
from the world of the dead. Good souls will be able to cross the bridge
without hindrance, benefiting from the protection of the gods. The others will see their souls
sink into the river of blood. Then
it’s a matter of competing against 16 ferocious demon kings to cross the gates of hell. Impure souls are taken away
by ghosts to be tortured. Arriving at the summit of Mingshan, the souls
say goodbye to their loved ones. However, there is
one last thing to overcome: balance. Stand for ten seconds on one foot
on a rounded polished stone. Souls who reach this point will finally be able to
bow down before the emperor of the world of the dead. Unusually, in Mingshan,
heaven rubs shoulders with hell. If you can get to hell
by cable car, you have to earn your way to heaven. As we climb the hundreds of steps
between temples and Buddhas, and at the cost of a little sweat,
we observe many testimonies of Taoist culture. The Eight Immortals,
famous heroes of the pilgrimage to the East, figure prominently. One of the statues relates the beginnings
of the union of the Shanne and Djo dynasties. A wise old man was fishing with
a line without a hook. A general sent by Emperor
Jo comes to consult him. How can you fish without a hook? The old man replied:
It is you I have just caught. The old man became an official advisor
to the Joe Dynasty, helping the emperor unify the kingdom of China. Later, they became immortals
and this story made Mingshan famous. We finally arrive under the immense
head of the Jade Emperor. A classic figure of Taoism,
god of heaven and emblem of sovereignty since 2010, the Jade Emperor has undergone
a real cosmetic surgery operation. He has not only changed his face,
but also his identity. The new owners of the site
decided to rename it: King of Hell. Paradise, here too, is
definitely experiencing a crisis of faith. Over the years, conflicts,
cultural revolutions, decision-makers and financiers,
the site has been successively built, razed, rebuilt and transformed. To leave paradise and come back down
to Earth, what better way than a marble slide without brakes? Yes, we confirm it, the fall
is much faster than the ascent. Holy cow! There is What
is the ghost town then? A testimony of religious
and spiritual beliefs that have infused the Chinese cultural unconscious? A propaganda tool to favor
the docile and discourage bad behavior promised the
worst treatment in hell? A business model and a macabre Disneyland
revolving around the fear of ghosts? We are looking to find out what
the old town of Fengdu looked like before the rising of the Waters. Xiuxiaoyun was born and lived in the
now submerged old town. The 56-year-old now owns two
souvenir shops in the ghost town. One open in the morning,
for ferry passengers, and the other in the afternoon,
for tourists by bus. He tells us about his childhood memories. When I was little,
I used to swim in the Yangxi. Older children could take
a board, we waited upstream. The river was narrow,
there was only one boat. We let the boat go down,
then we waited for it to come back up. With the board, we clung to the boat
that pulled us across the river. Yes, like that. It’s a memory that has left a lasting impression on me. Like all the residents of the old
city of Fengdu, Ksu was relocated to the new city. Five times larger,
it offers significantly more comfortable infrastructure. Remains nostalgic
for the city of his youth. Everything is more comfortable
than in the old town. The parks, public benches
and paths are very well laid out. I think the government is doing
a good job in this area. The roads and traffic
have improved a lot. Of course, there is nostalgia
for the old city. Today, when we come
home, we close the door. Before, we would have a bowl of rice and
chat together, sitting on the same bench. But now there
is very little human contact. There are only big towers
and no one knows each other anymore. Before, everyone stayed together. I miss the atmosphere of the old town. The new town is enveloped in a singular, almost spectral tranquility. We seem to be alone in the city. With the last ray of sunshine,
the inhabitants finally appear. It’s time for a
gentle stroll along the banks of the Yangtze. Rain, clouds and mist
merge at water level. Sometimes a piece of mountain
emerges from the white blanket. We sail on the Yangsai
as on a lake whose borders we cannot see ,
levitating between these moments suspended in the Nimbus, floating, karstic islands. Dozens of sunken cities lie underwater
, but we see no traces of them. The ghosts of Fengdu definitely
continue to follow us to the Three Gorges. The Three Gorges, or Sangcia,
is a scenic canyon that stretches for over 200 kilometers. One of the cradles of Chinese culture,
it begins in Sichuan and ends in Hubei. On their way out, she built the immense
Three Gorges Dam, the reservoir of which partially drowned them. We stop to explore
the three small gorges. Longmen Gorge, Baou and Ditsoué,
inaccessible to large boats. We have to disembark and take
two consecutive boats. First a medium-sized boat,
then a very small wooden boat whose plastic tarpaulin doubtfully protects us
from the pouring rain. Before the construction of the
Three Gorges Dam, the three small gorges were as narrow as our
wooden boat, about 3 to 4 meters wide , and the water was shallow,
between one and 3 meters, we are told. In some places,
the water was only knee-deep, and locals could walk across it. Today, the water has risen more
than 100 meters, a dazzling metamorphosis of a timeless landscape. Locals also tell us
that the government has offered compensation to residents
whose villages were submerged, in the form of new houses,
of course, but also livestock in order to develop some livestock farming
and organic farming. There is no industry in Wushan. The only sources of income there are
tourism and traditional agriculture. It is now forbidden to cut down
trees or harvest medicinal herbs in the Three
Gorges Mountains to preserve biodiversity. We pass a small island. In winter, it is completely covered
by water, but in summer, when it reappears,
the villagers rush to cultivate corn, sweet potatoes and potatoes there. The living conditions of the inhabitants of
the Three Gorges are very harsh. With little
arable land, poverty is high. Most people complain a lot about the fact
that the country has changed radically. They miss the Three Gorges of the past,
those of classical paintings, deep
and mysterious celestial mountains, cradle of ancient Chinese culture
where the waters of the Yangtze rolled like drums now muffled. The Three Gorges and the dam are a major attraction
for Chinese tourists. They must have visited it at least
once in their life, all hands on deck for the obligatory selfies. Objective: to machine-gun the Twelve Peaks
along the Blue River, starting with the Peak, known as the Goddess Peak,
undoubtedly the most beautiful in the eyes of the Chinese. The construction of the dam has
significantly transformed and calmed the Yangtze. A young, wild and impetuous river, marvelously
mocking seasoned sailors, he has become a quiet father
whose plumpness allows an unbroken fleet to sail. Day and night,
tourist ships cross paths with cargo ships. We are approaching the
Three Gorges Dam. It is not only a dam,
it is also the first human construction which, by the presence of
such a large quantity of water concentrated in one place, modifies the inertia of the planet and slows down the speed of rotation
of the Earth by 0.06 microseconds. A green revolution awaits us
on the heights of Yi Chang. At an altitude of 700 meters,
the lush countryside surrounding Itchang unfolds. The Fù and Lùo tea plantation
excites us. Here are two cousins ​​committed to their country
and nature at the forefront of agroecological progress.
Biological. Wanting to improve quality
by changing their production method, they have specialized in growing
organic green tea for over 20 years. Lùoo details their approach. We produce organic tea
without pesticides or insecticides. We do not use parasiticides
or herbicides in the plantation. You see, in the middle of the field
there are lots of weeds, because we do n’t use chemicals. So the tea we drink is safer. Ouo and Fu draw inspiration from
traditional Chinese medicine in the practice of their profession. It all depends on the
fragile balance between man and nature. According to them, agriculture must produce
functional foods, foods, medicines that provide
good health and longevity. In the past, the importance
was to increase production. A lot
of insecticides were used for this. Today,
our goal is not to increase production, but to increase quality. So we
went organic. It’s very difficult,
but it’s our credo. Our dream is to make organic tea
in our region, to do everything
possible for our customers. Still a minority, Fou and Lou-Oh are part of a generation
committed to the development of sustainable agriculture. In our opinion, they are the face of a coherent future, full of promise. Taking advantage of China’s state-of-the-art high-speed trains,
we continue our journey towards one of the Yangtze’s main tributaries
, the Qiang, to reach the town of Tsang Sha. We are curious to see
what a green city in China might look like. Capital of Huan province,
Tsang Sha presided over the creation in 2016 of a new ecological urban community
, Mei Xi Lake, a laboratory for the sustainable city of tomorrow. Mei’chi Lake is not a
tourist spot, but a residential area. At first glance,
you might not expect to come across a 5.5-kilometer-long artificial lake,
surrounded by sections of 40- story buildings, many of which are still
under construction and therefore have not finished expanding. We are impressed by the size
of the construction sites of the new districts under construction. Orange cranes and blue tarpaulins
contrast with the gray of the concrete. Here and there, yellow spots appear. The helmets that workers wear. The lake is a
rich and complex ecosystem. It is surrounded by Yang Kru,
a wetland known as the city’s green lung or green kidney. It is a recreation area,
a biodiversity exhibition area, a wetland science and education area,
and an ecological conservation area. The lush botanical garden surrounding
the lake is a place for strolling as well as a space for
physical activity. While walking or cycling
along the ponds where toads roam and rare trees fill the air,
residents can even enjoy a fine sandy beach that delights
children in a relaxing and privileged atmosphere. Mei Xi Lake is one of the best
places to get a glimpse of China’s rapid transition
from rural to urban. It also reveals all its paradoxes. On the way to the last
stop of our journey. We are approaching the mouth of
the Yangtze, which is a good ten kilometers wide here. The three of us, Shanghai. This final stage condenses for us here
all the discoveries and questions of our journey. Long considered the symbol of foreign capitalism, Shanghai is today the
financial center of China. A city of 24 million inhabitants
in constant expansion, a reflection of China’s
international superpower, hyper modern, hyper consumerist, hyper connected,
Shanghai is the place of all possibilities, of all dreams. Shanghai means: above the sea. The
Yangtze ends its long journey of more than 6,000 kilometers here before discharging
more than 1,000 billion cubic meters of water into the China Sea every year. The Huan Po, the last tributary of the Yangtze,
borders the financial districts and divides the city into two districts:
Pudong to the east and Puxi to the west. A thick layer of mist,
made up of mixed water vapor and pollution ,
gradually dissipates during the day. In the morning, it’s hard to see
the tops of the skyscrapers, but the skyline and its
iconic Pearl Tower, one of the tallest towers in the world,
recognizable by its cup-and-ball shape, eventually become admirable. The development of the city is
historically linked to the foreign powers that occupied it for
several decades in the 19th and 20th centuries. The British, Americans, French,
Russians and Japanese have all taken turns holding the Pearl of the Orient. They left a
visible mark on the city. Located within the former
Shanghai International Concession, the Bound is a testament to
classic colonial architecture, now housing a major bank and insurance company,
luxury hotels, a gourmet restaurant, and select brands. Shanghai is first and foremost a deeply cosmopolitan city where
all nationalities are found. It is also a city of contrasts
that has managed to combine tradition and modernity. Epicenter of globalization, the seat
of the treasures of a thousand-year-old heritage. In the early morning, we observe
groups practicing martial arts. Here, Tai-chi-chuan. Practitioners choose the banks
of the river, as water promotes, in the Taoist way, the opening,
cleansing and balance of the body, energy, emotions and mind. Below, a group of women
wielding fans calls out to us. These native Shanghainese women
explain to us that they practice Mulan Tshuan, flower boxing, every day from 6:45 a.m. to 8:00 a.m. A discipline exclusively reserved
for women, at the crossroads between martial arts, dance and gymnastics. There are 18 centuries of movements. No, 17.
That’s right, 17. I’ve been practicing for 22 years. I started when I was 50
and I’m 72 this year. The biggest change? When I retired, I felt very lonely. I decided to go out and do
some Mylène Coanne with my friends. I have many more friends than before. Yes, we need more
friends at our ages. Friends of the same age. And good health. Yes, the body feels better. Old people like us should
be careful and avoid falling on the ground. The bones are more fragile. Compared to people our age,
we are more dynamic. Because we practice. The mind is better too. By building muscle, the body looks
slimmer, without losing weight. The flesh is firm. We dive into the heart of old
Shanghai, which is disappearing. That of small street shops,
of cheerful locals, of China before demonization. We are affected by these
increasingly rare old neighborhoods that are being demolished left, right and center and replaced
by skyscrapers, luxury residences or
office buildings, unaffordable for residents who are
not involved in international trade. Residents are divided
over the prospect of demolition. On the one hand, there is the desire to gain
comfort thanks to new housing with running water,
fully equipped kitchen and bathroom. On the other hand, small businesses are
suffering from the loss of their traditional customers who are leaving
the city centre and moving to the suburbs. Buying an apartment was out
of reach for most former Louis XIVs. Stunned by these temples of consummate
charisma, we find refuge in the sublime temple of the Jade Buddha. Dating from the late 19th century,
the temple was created to house two Buddha statues imported
from Burma by sea. Entirely restored in wood,
it is a working monastic school , housing 70 monks year-round. We are delighted to find such a
place of calm and serenity in the heart of the city,
enjoying a time of rejuvenation in this place conducive to meditation
and contemplation. We are finally at the top
of the Pearl Tower. We enjoy a sunset
at an altitude of 263 meters and a passage on the transparent floor, an
excuse for a new selfie competition. Shanghai is fascinating, but so globalized that it becomes sanitized. Where has his Chinese soul gone? Neutralized by
architectural homogenization and Western-style modernization, we have the impression
of having lived in an airport city as Jacques Tati
imagined it in his film Playtime. The mist slowly dissipates,
revealing the immensity of the bridge that connects Tsangmin Island,
China’s third largest island, to Shanghai. Our crossing is coming to an end. We arrived at the mouth of
the Yangtze, near the coast of the East China Sea. The river spreads out over a vast delta. Cheungmin is mainly occupied
by farmland, lakes, ponds and the
Douang Tan Nature Reserve, a protected ecological area. Wind turbines, solar panels,
no industry, no pollution of any kind. Fishing is very regulated there to ensure
species renewal. The boats only go out once
a year for three months. We mostly come across
fishermen who are genuinely enjoying their free time. They are very proud of their
brand new village and tell us that they drink water from the Yangtze. Under the iridescent light of the sun
caressing the waves, the sirens of the Yangtze reach the China Sea. A new journey begins.

Le fleuve Yangzi, miroir d’une Chine en pleine transformation. ✋Les plus belles destinations, c’est ici 👉 https://bit.ly/2Vlfz9o 👈 Abonnez vous ! 🙏

00:00 – Découverte de la Chine contemporaine
02:24 – Chongqing, mégalopole du centre de la Chine
04:19 – Les porteurs “Bang” et leur vie quotidienne
07:59 – Chang Show, du monde rural à la ville nouvelle
10:51 – La jeunesse et le cosplay à Chongqing
15:06 – Fengdou, la ville fantôme et le monde des esprits
22:53 – Témoignage de Xukiaoyun, mémoire du fleuve
26:51 – Les Trois Gorges et le barrage monumental
33:19 – La renaissance du thé bio en Chine
36:45 – Changcha, la ville verte du futur
40:24 – Shanghai, mégalopole cosmopolite
49:13 – L’île de Tchongming, à l’embouchure du Yangzi

Le célèbre Yangzi est le plus long fleuve de Chine, le troisième de la planète, avec 6.000 kilomètres. Anciennement nommé Yang Tsé Kiang, c’est en suivant son cours que nous explorons la Chine contemporaine, des mégalopoles hyper-modernes aux villes fantômes.

En suivant le fleuve, la transition fulgurante de la Chine se dévoile avec l’ampleur de ses promesses et de ses défis.

À découvrir sur Voyage du Bout du Monde
De Luang Prabang à Bali : la magie des marchés d’Asie https://youtu.be/8MxlxDPV-kY
Mékong, marchés flottants, temples : que cache vraiment le Sud Vietnam ? https://youtu.be/v5Fi6h54Gm4
Comment la Thaïlande unit nature, art et spiritualité ? https://youtu.be/v_YItCg_ybs

“CHINE – LES SIRENES DU FLEUVE YANGZI”
Un film d’Anne MURAT et David BART
Droits réservés

#Chine #Yangzi #DocumentaireVoyage #Exploration #FleuveYangzi #VoyagesDuBoutDuMonde #Découverte #Shanghai #TroisGorges #CultureChinoise