One of the resources we enjoy living where we are is we can swim in the two lakes near us. Houhai (“Lake in back”) is famous for the winter polar-bear swimmers who swim in a small hole carved out of ice there. These swimmers naturally swim all year round to work up to that point.
The entire banks of the lakes are built with stones and fenced with stone or metal railings. The water level is pretty low beneath the banks, so swimmers must enter (and more importantly, get out of) water from special access points. Qianhai and Houhai each have one such place. Swimmers have piled up large bricks under water to form a sort of staircase. Swimming in the lakes is not encouraged by the authorities for fear of people drowning.
There are signs along the banks saying “wild swimming” is forbidden. But in recent years, they have not been interfering with the swimmers. No changing rooms, showers are provided. But on the other hand, it is completely free.
I tried both the Houhai and the Qianhai swimming places. The Houhai one is next to a public exercise place and has more swimmers throughout the summer. If you leave your clothes on the bank it’s safer, because there are always other swimmers there to watch over them. But the water is dirtier with algae and there are more tourist-type paddle boats around during the afternoon and evening. It is about 20 minutes walk from our home. The Qianhai swimming place is about 5 to 7 minutes from us. It has cleaner water (one can actually see the bottom); fewer swimmers; perhaps less secure for leaving bags around; no winter swimming; and a small island about 80m away to swim to. After trying out both, I decided to swim in Qianhai.
The swimmers are predominantly local, though most of them live farther away than we do. The majority come by bike, bring a container of water with which they shower themselves after the swim, and change into dry clothes before going home or work. I just put a loose dress over my wet swimsuit and go home to shower and change. Most swimmers are middle-aged. Some are even in their 80s. During the summer holidays some parents have brought a few kids who can swim, but in general this is not a place for kids to learn to swim.
What keeps the water fairly clean are the tall weeds that grow in the lake. They generally come up to about one foot beneath the surface of the water. So if you are not a good swimmer, these long tangles of sometimes quite prickly water weed can be quite intimidating. Almost every summer somebody drowns in the lakes, perhaps beginners caught in the weeds, panicked, or perhaps under the influence of alcohol. They are usually not local, but migrant workers with no knowledge of the depth of the lakes or the entangling weeds.
In general the swimmers are a friendly lot. The polar bears formed a “team” many years ago and organize swimming trips to the Shisanling reservoir and banquets of celebration. The others will also chat or at least greet you when you arrive. Some of them spend two hours each morning in the water, chatting about swimming techniques or their lives. People who still have a job may start swimming at 6am and leave at 8am to go to work. There is at least one woman who catches small fish everyday while she swims, to feed her turtle at home. It’s as natural as buying some vegetables on your way from work.
At Qianhai, there are as many observers as there are swimmers. These are tourists or local people taking a stroll around the lake. Observers usually have a lot of questions about the depth of the lake, the water, especially whether it is too cold or not. My favorite question is from a man who is either missing some marbles or a philosopher. He looked at a diver for a long time, and then asked: “您扎猛子是练什么呀? (What are you trying to master by diving?)” The diver replied plainly: “扎猛子。(Diving.)” That’s what I enjoy the most of swimming in the lake, it’s plain fun for the plain Beijing folks.
