Growing up, I was never particularly fond of history class or reading textbooks. I always felt distant from what I was learning. While history intrigued me, it seemed too abstract to relate to, too far removed from my own life to truly reflect on. It wasn’t until I arrived in Tianjin that I began to grasp how history can come alive, how it is woven into the fabric of modern life, and how it directly shapes the present.
As I stepped off the high-speed train from Beijing, I was struck by the significance of the moment. This wasn’t just any train—I was traveling on the very first high-speed rail built in China. I’d ridden highspeed trains several times this semester, but this journey felt different. It was as if I was riding the embodiment of China’s modernization, witnessing firsthand one of the country’s most iconic technological achievements.
Right from the station, I noticed the mix of Western-style architecture alongside traditional Chinese structures. It felt like I had landed in Europe, with this unusual fusion of cultures surrounding me. I was captivated by the European-style mansions and neoclassical buildings, and immediately realized that Tianjin’s history was far from simple.
I quickly learned about the many foreign concessions in Tianjin, including those from Britain, France, Italy, and Japan. Growing up, my mom often told me stories about the Eight-Nation Alliance and how they intervened in China during the Boxer Rebellion, leading to the downfall of the Qing Dynasty. I used to listen with sympathy, but without truly grasping the depth of China’s humiliation and the battles that followed. Little did I know that this pivotal moment in history had unfolded right here in Tianjin, and now, walking these streets, I was feeling its weight in a way that I hadn’t before.
Our first stop was the Italian Barracks and Marco Polo Square. I learned that our professor had heard stories about the barracks from his grandfather, including tales of rowdy American soldiers staying there, which I found quite amusing. Had I visited the barracks without knowing its historical significance, I might have just taken it for a modern European-style building with cafes and restaurants. But with the backstory, I saw a deeper, more complex narrative unfolding before me. As I walked along Marco Polo Square, I noticed the ongoing influence of the Italian concession, where Italian restaurants coexisted alongside local vendors selling jianbing (煎饼), a savory street snack.
We also visited the Palace of Prince Qing (亲王府) and Jingyuan (静园), the former residence of Puyi, the last emperor of the Qing Dynasty. As I toured these residences, I once again saw the strong foreign influences in their design. In the dining halls of Qingwangfu, particularly in Qilan Hall, I noticed how the space had been used to showcase Zaizhen's lavish lifestyle. Yet, he still maintained elements of traditional Chinese culture within his home. For example, his parlor was often used for hosting Peking opera, and the décor in his children's academies featured famous gods from traditional Chinese culture, along with auspicious motifs. Similarly, he had an Ancestor Hall, also decorated with these traditional symbols.
Zaizhen was a key figure during the late Qing Dynasty, holding many important positions, including Minister of Agriculture, Commerce, and Industry. His extensive Western education, having studied abroad three times, heavily influenced his approach to life and design. A similar fusion of cultures was present in Jingyuan, where Western and Chinese décor coexisted. I also learned that Puyi, with his empress Wanrong and consorts, often ate Western-style meals, and the Ancestor Hall there was much more modernized in its design.
However, some parts of the city felt dramatically different from the European-style areas. Ancient Culture Street was a pedestrian market that reminded me of other cultural streets I had visited in cities like Chengdu and Beijing. There were many shops selling traditional Chinese products like tea sets, calligraphy materials, and various sculptures. It gave me a sense of pride to see that, even in a city so heavily influenced by foreign powers, traditional Chinese culture still had a strong presence. It was a reminder that culture endures, regardless of external influences.
I was struck by how seamlessly these two architectural worlds—Western and Chinese—coexisted. Yet, I also learned that not all locals see this fusion in the same light. While tourists often appreciate the Western influences in Tianjin, many locals feel that the city’s focus should be more on its local architecture and Chinese heritage. This made me realize that the impact of history is far more complex and nuanced than I initially understood. Nothing is simply black and white. What some find mesmerizing and beautiful, others may associate with pain and humiliation. For many, the foreign architecture symbolizes a period of weakness and subjugation, while for others, it sparks empathy for the struggles China endured in the face of foreign intervention.
As I reflect on my time in Tianjin, I realize that the city’s architecture is not just a backdrop to daily life, but a living history. What once seemed like distant, abstract stories from history books now feel immediate and tangible. Walking through Tianjin, I experienced firsthand how history is not something just locked away in the past—it shapes the present and continues to influence the way we experience the world.