Today we went clothes shopping, and as a role-reversal, I was the buyer and my wife the hanger-on. Her cousin, the clotheshorse of the family, knows all the hot spots and possesses a true gift when it comes to knocking down the price of things. I've come to discover that unless you are in a department store, everything is negotiable in these parts. I was after a couple pair of pants and my wife suggested I buy a new jacket as well. Since I've dropped a couple of sizes over the years, my beloved waist-length army jacket looks like a camoflaged weather balloon on me.
We were on our way to pick up Cousin Clotheshorse, when my wife told me her neice would be coming along too. Cool! More family! In China, people my age belong to the "Only Child Generation" - there is a single birth-rule for every family. I mean, it's not like they kill your 2nd born, but you have to pay a fine for every additional child. I guess it's to ease the burden on a developing country. This rule came into effect after our parents would have been born. I guess the baby boom was happening all over the world, not just at home. With no immediate siblings, this means that cousins, neices and nephews are closer than ever. I think that's pretty cool, especially since my 2 best friends growing up happen to be cousins, but we were often mistaken for 3 brothers.
The last time my wife saw her neice, she was a short, pudgy little girl whose fat rolls everyone used to pinch. Not anymore! i was taken aback when I saw this beautiful girl towering over my wife, hugging her like a power forward hugs a point guard in the WNBA. I couldn't believe my eyes. The resemblance was uncanny! Aside of course from the extra 6 inches or so in height. I was immediately ordered to stand back-to-back with this girl, who was only an inch or two shorter than me. Everyone back home is always saying how short Asian girls are. Actually this one friend of mine said there are 2 things he would miss if he moved to China: His Mom's cooking, and tall girls. Well, our little neice is just an average Northern Chinese girl, who are on average taller than the rest of the country's girls. After our introduction & measuring, my wife translated for me that my niece doesn't speak English very well, but was glad to meet me.
The 4 of us all headed out into the brisk Harbin morning (Cousin Clotheshorse, Big Neice, my wife and I). I was told we were headed for the Underground Market - literally. We walked down what looked like a subway entrance, through some tarps hanging in the doorway (to keep the heat in) and into a food court. It reminded me of a meat locker, but the smells inside told me that the meat was rancid. I held my nose as we passed the "mystery-meat-on-a-stick" and "What's That? in a bowl" stands, and entered a giant hall of various clothing and dirt merchants. You can tell right away that you should disregard all brand names here. Everything is of the highest knock-off quality.
Cousin Clotheshorse, or C.C. as I'll call her, once owned a clothing store in another city, so she knows how to spot shotty material, weak stitching, and can tell you what the real value of any article is, never mind what the tag says. If the retailer tries to tell us the base cost for something, C.C. calls them on their lie. She told us that jeans never cost more than 80-100 yuan a pair when you buy them wholesale. In one store, they were marked up to 280 a pair, and the salesmen wouldn't budge much, so we moved on. I spotted a pair of dark blue jeans I liked, and so I asked if I could try them on.
Well, at the Underground Market, fitting rooms are a luxury not every merchant can afford, let me tell you. If you are lucky, they'll let you step back into the gap behind their back wall so you can strip down among the tepid water and rat feces. At the very least, they would provide you with a tattered sheet to drape over yourself while pantsless. However, the accomodations were less than inviting at one store. "Uhh, you can stand behind that rack, I guess," said the salesman. What a cheeky bastard. But no, I would soon find out that I was the one who was about to be cheeky. The rack only covered me from the other people in the store. Anyone walking down the hallway could see my undies from this vantage point. The shopkeep probably thought it would attract business. Well, I was certainly attracting attention. I think ol' cousin and niecy stuck a peek, but then again, who could blame them? Here I was on display for all of the underground society to see.
After trying on a few more pairs of jeans in this manner, I settled on 2 pairs that I liked and we were moving on to jackets. As I said before, I had in-grown (is that the opposite of out-grown?) my beloved army jacket and I was thinking of something in the leather department. Nothing too bikery, more classy like in The Matrix or something. I tried on a few, but nothing really stirred my martini, so to speak. Then, in the second to last shop in the place, I spotted a dark brown zippered number with my name on it. Now, I was briefed back in a previous store (pun intended, very intended) on the art of haggling, and the trick is to never look too impressed by anything you want to buy. In other words, act like you don't really want this piece of clothing, but you might be persuaded to buy it. "I guess it's pretty okay," I said, handing it back to the merchant. "280 Yuan," she said. "C'mon, let's go," said C.C., and the games had begun. The further we walked, the lower the price fell, until we were so far away, we could just barely make out a faint "200" echoing down the cavernous hallway. We turned back, purchased the jacket, and all had a good laugh. That is, except for Madame Shopkeep. She looked quite angry.
Now, a shirt was needed to accompany my new jacket and pants. I looked ina couple of shops, but everything looked so metrosexual to me. I dunno, men's shirst seem very flamboyant and flashy over here, all frilly and V-necked. i saw one little number I liked, and asked if I could try it on. "Go ahead," said the merchant. I could tell that a fitting room was out of the question. So, here I was half-naked again standing in this little clothing shop amid the stares and whispers of generall gawkers, and I'm proud to say, a female admirer or two. I guess tattoos aren't very common over here, because cousin and niece asked if they could have another look/touch. I don't have the world's most meaningful or thought-provoking tattoos or anything, but I could tell this was a new discovery for them. Needless to say, I didn't buy any of those blouses, so we left with what we had.
I emerged from the depths of the underground market with 2 pairs of comfy jeans and a brand new genuine leatherish jacket. Not a bad day, overall. The most interesting part of my day though, was the introduction of a new character into my little story. My new niece was really something, I thought. When we went back home, I got a chance to talk to her a bit and do some background research. It turns out that her English isn't half bad afterall! She was just a bit shy at first. After seeing me strip down to my skivvies, I think the shyness shoe was on the other foot now, and she started to loosen up around me.
I found out that she is 20 years old, a film student here in Harbin, and she is a flautist. She showed me some pictures of her playing flute on her cellphone. I also learned that her father sadly passed away 5 years ago. This girl actually broke down and cried when she was talking about him. That takes guts, people. To open up emotionally like that in front of someone you've only just met a few hours ago, that takes guts. My wife and cousin consoled her with hugs, kisses and tissues, and she was back to her smiling self again a little later.
I'm glad I got to meet my niece. I see a lot of stories in her. I don't know, it's wierd to see people as characters and subject matter and all that, but I just get the feeling that this person is interesting and has a story to tell. My wife and I planned to get together with her again tomorrow, and she promised to bring her flute and play us a song.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Sunday, March 2, 2008
March 1st - Beijing in Retrospect
Now that I'm back in harbin, I guess I have a chance to look back on my little excursion to Beijing. I picked up on a couple of things while there: 1) This is a city that is rich in history and culture and; 2) Beijing is becoming more and more commercialized ever day.
After speaking with a couple of locals, the ones who could answer me, I got the feeling that Beijing is the place to go if you're looking to make a quick buck, but definitely not a place to settle down for most people. There is heavy demand in the I.T. sector here, as many U.S. and European software companies have set up offices in Beijing. So like I said, make a quick buck and get the hell out. To start with, it's very touristy. I used to feel like a Novelty Act in Harbin, being the only paleface around for miles. "Step right up, folks. Come see the abominable white man in all his pasty glory!". Here in Beijing, I see whole packs of Germans, Australians, and Americans. You can tell where they are from by their little flag carried by the tour guide up front. If you get lost in the crowded streets, just look for those Broad Stripes and Bright Stars and play follow the leader.
I mention the crowded streets, but it's more like crowded street(singular). Wangfujing Street is a pedestrian-only zone lined with gift shops, English signs and no chance of being run over. Unlike in the other streets, where a "walk" sign is just a suggestion. "Walk, if you feel lucky." At night, Wangfujing street is like a Ghost Town. We walked through at 11PM when the shops are all closed, and there were only a few perfect strangers walking around. It was a pretty tranquil way to end our day.
The next morning though, it was like someone opened the great flood gates at the salmon-spawning site. As usual, I found myself going against the grain, or in this case, against the scales? I'm fighting my way upstream and squeezing between fatso American tourists and throaty Pasisian bimbos who smell like a perfume factory exploded in their general vacinity. It was like a big human stew, with Canadian as a garnish. It really reminded me how few Canadians there are in the world. I felt unique.
Just then, I saw someone wearing a Labbat's baseball cap from behind. I wanted to get closer to see if he was a fellow Canuck, but when he turned around, I was a bit confused. The first thing that caught my eye was his huge gut. Okay, I know a few Canadians who go a little overboard with the Timmy's now and then. I used to fit that bill, actually. But then I noticed what was covering his gut, or at least trying to. He was wearing a "Harley Davidson USA" T-shirt. Either this guy is generally confused, or he's an American tourist posing as a Canadian. I've heard of them, and to be completely honest, I smelled a Yankee. I decided to avoid a confrontation during which I probably would have grilled the poor guy on Provincial Capitals and Grade 4 Social Studies. There probably are a few Canadians here, but I think we're less obvious than that.
Getting around in Beijing can either be very easy, or very mind-numbing, depending on the time of day. Since try not to get out of bed before 8:30 whilst on vacation, I haven't experienced the morning commute at its peak. When we hopped on the subway at 11AM, it was pretty relaxed. But my, how quickly things change. I heard a little joke from a local. He said: "At 5 o'clock, Beijing is the world's biggest parking lot." He's right, too. We were meeting my wife's friends for dinner one night, and it took us a 30 minute taxi ride from the subway station to the restaurant, which ironically is the same length of time it would have taken on foot, according to the nice fellow who gave us directions.
So, in my conclusion, I have found Beijing to be a city of constant change. On one hand, you have the transformation of once sacred, untouched historical sites into money-making tourist attractions; On the other, you see a constant beautification process, brought on by the pressure to keep up with the rest of the modern world, plus the Olympics coming 5 months from now. If you are afraid of change, you would probably be afraid to leave your tiny, overpriced flat in Beijing.
I'm no expert on this subject, mind you. Heck, I only spent 4 days in Beijing. I didn't even scratch the surface of all the things to see & do. These are merely my opinions based on what I saw, and the information I gathered from the locals in my brief visit. If you go to Beijing tomorrow, you'll probably have an entirely different experience from mine. One thing's for sure though - being there made me crave some quiet R&R. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Being a tourist is tiring! I think I'll retire from it for a while after this trip is over.
After speaking with a couple of locals, the ones who could answer me, I got the feeling that Beijing is the place to go if you're looking to make a quick buck, but definitely not a place to settle down for most people. There is heavy demand in the I.T. sector here, as many U.S. and European software companies have set up offices in Beijing. So like I said, make a quick buck and get the hell out. To start with, it's very touristy. I used to feel like a Novelty Act in Harbin, being the only paleface around for miles. "Step right up, folks. Come see the abominable white man in all his pasty glory!". Here in Beijing, I see whole packs of Germans, Australians, and Americans. You can tell where they are from by their little flag carried by the tour guide up front. If you get lost in the crowded streets, just look for those Broad Stripes and Bright Stars and play follow the leader.
I mention the crowded streets, but it's more like crowded street(singular). Wangfujing Street is a pedestrian-only zone lined with gift shops, English signs and no chance of being run over. Unlike in the other streets, where a "walk" sign is just a suggestion. "Walk, if you feel lucky." At night, Wangfujing street is like a Ghost Town. We walked through at 11PM when the shops are all closed, and there were only a few perfect strangers walking around. It was a pretty tranquil way to end our day.
The next morning though, it was like someone opened the great flood gates at the salmon-spawning site. As usual, I found myself going against the grain, or in this case, against the scales? I'm fighting my way upstream and squeezing between fatso American tourists and throaty Pasisian bimbos who smell like a perfume factory exploded in their general vacinity. It was like a big human stew, with Canadian as a garnish. It really reminded me how few Canadians there are in the world. I felt unique.
Just then, I saw someone wearing a Labbat's baseball cap from behind. I wanted to get closer to see if he was a fellow Canuck, but when he turned around, I was a bit confused. The first thing that caught my eye was his huge gut. Okay, I know a few Canadians who go a little overboard with the Timmy's now and then. I used to fit that bill, actually. But then I noticed what was covering his gut, or at least trying to. He was wearing a "Harley Davidson USA" T-shirt. Either this guy is generally confused, or he's an American tourist posing as a Canadian. I've heard of them, and to be completely honest, I smelled a Yankee. I decided to avoid a confrontation during which I probably would have grilled the poor guy on Provincial Capitals and Grade 4 Social Studies. There probably are a few Canadians here, but I think we're less obvious than that.
Getting around in Beijing can either be very easy, or very mind-numbing, depending on the time of day. Since try not to get out of bed before 8:30 whilst on vacation, I haven't experienced the morning commute at its peak. When we hopped on the subway at 11AM, it was pretty relaxed. But my, how quickly things change. I heard a little joke from a local. He said: "At 5 o'clock, Beijing is the world's biggest parking lot." He's right, too. We were meeting my wife's friends for dinner one night, and it took us a 30 minute taxi ride from the subway station to the restaurant, which ironically is the same length of time it would have taken on foot, according to the nice fellow who gave us directions.
So, in my conclusion, I have found Beijing to be a city of constant change. On one hand, you have the transformation of once sacred, untouched historical sites into money-making tourist attractions; On the other, you see a constant beautification process, brought on by the pressure to keep up with the rest of the modern world, plus the Olympics coming 5 months from now. If you are afraid of change, you would probably be afraid to leave your tiny, overpriced flat in Beijing.
I'm no expert on this subject, mind you. Heck, I only spent 4 days in Beijing. I didn't even scratch the surface of all the things to see & do. These are merely my opinions based on what I saw, and the information I gathered from the locals in my brief visit. If you go to Beijing tomorrow, you'll probably have an entirely different experience from mine. One thing's for sure though - being there made me crave some quiet R&R. I've said it before and I'll say it again: Being a tourist is tiring! I think I'll retire from it for a while after this trip is over.
Feb 29th - Peking & Choosing
When you go to Beijing, you have to eat duck, or so I'm told anyway. There is one restaurant that has been serving up the Beijing Peking Duck since the 1800's and boy, do they know their stuff. Since today is our last day in Beijing, and we have a train to catch tonight, we decided to just loaf around and maybe do dinner and a movie. The dinner would be duck, no doubt about it, and don't worry about the bill.
Now I'm not prepared to write a Siskel & Ebert (RIP Siskel) review of Attonement, so I'll just tell you that it was a good story, and looked like a good representation of the WWII period. There was one shot that blew my mind. After the British soldiers fought the Germans back and France was safe, the director showed the aftermath of this huge battle on the coast. This one shot must have lasted 5 minutes, and the main thing you got from it was the emotion those soldiers must have been feeling. Some were wandering around, losing their minds, lots were drunk, and every one of them looked homesick. Without a single line spoken in that sequence, I felt all those emotions.That's good cinema. But enough about the movie - it's time to eat!
This next part is not for the squeamish - or the vegetarian. I'm taking you to the Beijing Duck Restaurant, and I hope you brought your appetite. Everything here, and I do mean everything, has duck in it. "Can I have a glass of water?" "You want duck with that?" We ordered 1/2 a roast duck with scallions and flour tortillas. Again with the Chinese burritos, the filling was 100% pure mallard. I'm such a lucky duck!
A knife-wielding masked man snuck up behind me, pushing a squeaky cart that was built for one thing - transporting the carcasses of our dearly departed ducks. He sharpened up his tools and went to work. He carved and snapped and sawed away flesh from bone - the heavenly juices dripping all over his white uniform. I think the purpose of the mask was to catch his drool. My mouth was watering like a drain spout, so I can imagine what his must be doing. He plated up our meat and then BLAM! He chopped poor Daffy's head in half, right down the middle. It made a sort of twig-snapping sound. Inside was a perfect cross-section of its brain. I felt guilty for maybe 30 seconds, until the first bite hit my mouth. Who's Daffy again? Oh right, he's dinner!
After we finished our mouth-watering mallard, I felt the urge to fly ina V-line back to our hotel and sit down for a while. We collected our bags and prepared to head for the train station to begin our journey back to Harbin. We arrived at the station early. About 2 hours early, actually. We could have walked around the city some more, but it was too risky to go anywhere too far at the last minute, in case we got stuck in traffic and missed our train. So, we sat in a coffee shop and nursed a couple of drinks for 2 hours, until train Z15 was ready to roll.
I usually can't sleep on planes, trains or buses. I don't know why, I just find it difficult. Maybe it's the constant motion, or the smell of human uncleanliness, which is very common on this train. I know I showered today, can't speak for the other people on this train. it smells a bit like the animal reserve I visited in Hainan a couple of weeks ago. So, to battle the no-sleep Blues, my wife and I stayed up and played "Rock & Roll Trivia" for a bit. After we turned out the lights, I started listening to these History lectures on tape. I stayed awake until about 4AM when the battery died on my Ipod. What a feeling that was! I finished all of my candy too, so there was nothing else to do. I buried my head in my dusty pillow and closed my eyes. No snoring bunkmate this time, and no sweltering heat. I was closest to the heat control, and I had it cranked to zero. I actually managed to doze off. What a relief!
i was blasted awake with the sun burning my eyes like a poison. You know the feeling. The sun was rising outside the window directly across from my bunk, and there was no curtain to draw closed. Might as well get up. I could tell we must be getting close to Harbin now. People were shuffling around, getting their luggage sorted out and not showering. There was some sort of distorted announcement on the P.A. and the train started to slow down. I slipped my jeans on over my shorts and stood up. Wooooaaaaahhh! Guess I don't have my sae legs, or rail legs yet. I wobbled down the hallway to the bathroom and pissed all over the floor. Some wise guy decided to take a corner at the exact moment I unleashed my overnight buildup. Conductors are all such cut-ups. They were probably watching me on some hidden toilet in the bar of soap. Thanks guys!
We pulled in at harbin Station and I quickly gathered my things and headed off the train. Holy Mackeral it was cold outside! I forgot that Harbin is about 10 degrees colder than Beijing. I started jogging towards the exit. My wife said her hands were cold so I grabbed her suitcase to speed things up. "Do you have your ticket?" she asked. My ticket? What, I have to show my ticket again? With all my lack of sleep and white man confusion, I think I crumpled up my ticket and tossed it somewhere back on the train. My wife appealed to the security guard, but he said I had to run back and retrieve it, or else buy another ticket. Shit. I bolted.
Luckily, the train was still sitting there, and the guy at the door understood that I forgot something. I knew we were in car 16, so I ran to the door with a 15/16 sign above it. Shit, is this 16 or is that? The entrance is between the two cars. Did I just pass the lower numbers or the higher ones on my sprint down the landing? I knew I was in bed #7, but there was no ticket anywhere. I looked in the garbage can, on the floor, under the bed, in the ashtray. Wait a minute... I don't smoke. There are butts in this tray. I'm in the wrong car!
i ran up to the next car, bed #7 and there was my crumpled ticket, lying on the bed. I got off the train with my recovered ticket, and about 2 seconds later, the train started rolling away. Man was I ever lucky. My wife was walking toward me with the original security guard who had stopped us at the exit. She said he decided he would let me off this time if I couldn't manage to find it. "Well," I thought. "I needed the exercise anyway." It's 20 below, my lungs are burning, my teeth feel funny, and we can finally leave the train station. What a day already! And it's only 7:30. What's next?
Now I'm not prepared to write a Siskel & Ebert (RIP Siskel) review of Attonement, so I'll just tell you that it was a good story, and looked like a good representation of the WWII period. There was one shot that blew my mind. After the British soldiers fought the Germans back and France was safe, the director showed the aftermath of this huge battle on the coast. This one shot must have lasted 5 minutes, and the main thing you got from it was the emotion those soldiers must have been feeling. Some were wandering around, losing their minds, lots were drunk, and every one of them looked homesick. Without a single line spoken in that sequence, I felt all those emotions.That's good cinema. But enough about the movie - it's time to eat!
This next part is not for the squeamish - or the vegetarian. I'm taking you to the Beijing Duck Restaurant, and I hope you brought your appetite. Everything here, and I do mean everything, has duck in it. "Can I have a glass of water?" "You want duck with that?" We ordered 1/2 a roast duck with scallions and flour tortillas. Again with the Chinese burritos, the filling was 100% pure mallard. I'm such a lucky duck!
A knife-wielding masked man snuck up behind me, pushing a squeaky cart that was built for one thing - transporting the carcasses of our dearly departed ducks. He sharpened up his tools and went to work. He carved and snapped and sawed away flesh from bone - the heavenly juices dripping all over his white uniform. I think the purpose of the mask was to catch his drool. My mouth was watering like a drain spout, so I can imagine what his must be doing. He plated up our meat and then BLAM! He chopped poor Daffy's head in half, right down the middle. It made a sort of twig-snapping sound. Inside was a perfect cross-section of its brain. I felt guilty for maybe 30 seconds, until the first bite hit my mouth. Who's Daffy again? Oh right, he's dinner!
After we finished our mouth-watering mallard, I felt the urge to fly ina V-line back to our hotel and sit down for a while. We collected our bags and prepared to head for the train station to begin our journey back to Harbin. We arrived at the station early. About 2 hours early, actually. We could have walked around the city some more, but it was too risky to go anywhere too far at the last minute, in case we got stuck in traffic and missed our train. So, we sat in a coffee shop and nursed a couple of drinks for 2 hours, until train Z15 was ready to roll.
I usually can't sleep on planes, trains or buses. I don't know why, I just find it difficult. Maybe it's the constant motion, or the smell of human uncleanliness, which is very common on this train. I know I showered today, can't speak for the other people on this train. it smells a bit like the animal reserve I visited in Hainan a couple of weeks ago. So, to battle the no-sleep Blues, my wife and I stayed up and played "Rock & Roll Trivia" for a bit. After we turned out the lights, I started listening to these History lectures on tape. I stayed awake until about 4AM when the battery died on my Ipod. What a feeling that was! I finished all of my candy too, so there was nothing else to do. I buried my head in my dusty pillow and closed my eyes. No snoring bunkmate this time, and no sweltering heat. I was closest to the heat control, and I had it cranked to zero. I actually managed to doze off. What a relief!
i was blasted awake with the sun burning my eyes like a poison. You know the feeling. The sun was rising outside the window directly across from my bunk, and there was no curtain to draw closed. Might as well get up. I could tell we must be getting close to Harbin now. People were shuffling around, getting their luggage sorted out and not showering. There was some sort of distorted announcement on the P.A. and the train started to slow down. I slipped my jeans on over my shorts and stood up. Wooooaaaaahhh! Guess I don't have my sae legs, or rail legs yet. I wobbled down the hallway to the bathroom and pissed all over the floor. Some wise guy decided to take a corner at the exact moment I unleashed my overnight buildup. Conductors are all such cut-ups. They were probably watching me on some hidden toilet in the bar of soap. Thanks guys!
We pulled in at harbin Station and I quickly gathered my things and headed off the train. Holy Mackeral it was cold outside! I forgot that Harbin is about 10 degrees colder than Beijing. I started jogging towards the exit. My wife said her hands were cold so I grabbed her suitcase to speed things up. "Do you have your ticket?" she asked. My ticket? What, I have to show my ticket again? With all my lack of sleep and white man confusion, I think I crumpled up my ticket and tossed it somewhere back on the train. My wife appealed to the security guard, but he said I had to run back and retrieve it, or else buy another ticket. Shit. I bolted.
Luckily, the train was still sitting there, and the guy at the door understood that I forgot something. I knew we were in car 16, so I ran to the door with a 15/16 sign above it. Shit, is this 16 or is that? The entrance is between the two cars. Did I just pass the lower numbers or the higher ones on my sprint down the landing? I knew I was in bed #7, but there was no ticket anywhere. I looked in the garbage can, on the floor, under the bed, in the ashtray. Wait a minute... I don't smoke. There are butts in this tray. I'm in the wrong car!
i ran up to the next car, bed #7 and there was my crumpled ticket, lying on the bed. I got off the train with my recovered ticket, and about 2 seconds later, the train started rolling away. Man was I ever lucky. My wife was walking toward me with the original security guard who had stopped us at the exit. She said he decided he would let me off this time if I couldn't manage to find it. "Well," I thought. "I needed the exercise anyway." It's 20 below, my lungs are burning, my teeth feel funny, and we can finally leave the train station. What a day already! And it's only 7:30. What's next?
Feb 28th - The Emperor's New Skates
We have a busy day ahead of us. It's all fun stuff, but I'm starting to realize that being a tourist can be tiring! First off, we went out for breakfast, which I must say was quite scrumptious. I never imagined that breakfast burritos were popular over here, but you'll find whole restaurants dedicated to wraps. You just sit down, choose your fillings, and wrap it up. We had roasted pork, fried eggs, bean sprouts, potatoes and green onion in ours. Just writing this is making me hungry again. I'll try to wrap this up as soon as possible.
After breakfast, we hopped on the subway train. We literally hopped too, as there is about a 6 inch gap between the platform and the train. This was an adventure worth telling about. The subway is a pretty inexpensive form of transportation here in Beijing. 2 Yuan will take you just about anywhere in the city. None of this paying extra for more "zones" crap like back in Vancouver. My wife is putting me to the test today. She's making me go up to the little window to purcahse our tickets. It might sound easy in principle, but for an Anglophone like me, even remembering the word for "two" can be difficult. It's doubly hard when they use different number systems depending on what you're counting. If it's two tickets, you say "Liang zhang piao". If counting, you say Ee, Ar meaning 1,2. Wierd, huh?
Now that we have our tickets, it's time to board the train. Here's something odd: they have people working on the platform who have the simple job of pushing, that's right pushing people onto the train. Back home, bus drivers will politely say "Move to the back please". In Beijing, it's more like "You don't wanna move to the back, then I'm gonna do it for you. We can fit another 30 or so people on this train, guys."
We reached our destination after about 20 minutes in Sardinia. Somebody on that train was a boozer, because even at this early hour, I could smell the sauce. We got off the train, walked up the hundred or so stairs and were on the street. We were looking for Tiantan park - the site of a few temples, museums and things. Oh, and it's also the main hangout for Senior Citizens to like to sing opera, dance and play strange instruments that you won't find at Long & McQuade. We walked down this long hallway, which I'll call "Music Alley". I was strolling through a crowd of people just as the music started, and I discovered that I was in the middle of a Senior Citizens' Dance Party, or Retro Boogie, if you will. I busted out a couple of moves, to the applause of the locals, and then I did the "Walk like an Egyptian" off the dancefloor. I always like to leave on a high note.
After Arthritic Electric Circus, we walked around to the Emperor's Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. Now, I'm not a religious guy, quite the opposite in fact, but I guess Ancient China was full of tablet thumpers who believed in all sorts of legends, folklore, and worshipping things like sheep, corn, the sun and the moon. The big round temple was at the crest of a big hill, so you could see a panoramic view of the city of Beijing. Boy, that view must have looked a lot different in the old days when the temple was first built. There was probably less smog and not as many "Beijing 2008 Olympics" billboards.
We walked around some more and stumbled upon the "Echo Wall", a place that music nerds and audio engineers would love. It's a perfectly round wall, and when inside, people can stand on opposite sides of the ring and hear each other's voice perfectly. This sounds pretty interesting in principle, but when 50 or 60 people are trying to do it simultaneously, you get a frightening mix of yells, mostly from the dude standing next to you, screaming at the top of his lungs. Wait a minute, that's the rummy from the subway! And I'm pretty sure he's here alone. Yeah that's him alright. I'd recognize that lovely aroma anywhere. Sort of a mix of Gin, dirty laundry and cigarette butts. His smell was echoing inside my nose, so I figured it was time to leave.
I was getting hungry now, so I figured it was time to grab a snack. You can buy street meat all over this city - lamb skewers, shrimp, even strawberries and pineapples on a stick. I had 3 lamb skewers and i was all set for our evening workout. We were going ice skating!
My wife's cousin is a figure skating teacher at a popular rink here in Beijing. She's damn good too! Apparently she was the Chinese National Champoin a few years back, and just missed going to the Olympics in favour of someone younger. She was busy giving a lesson, but she made sure we were given skates, and granted access to the ice. What a feeling! When you've skated maybe once in the last decade, it's kind of awkward when you step on that ice again. Needless to say, I didn't attempt any triple axles or inverted sow cows. i just did a couple hundred laps, mostly of the forward persuasion. My wife was still a little sore from climbing the Great Wall the day before, so she wasn't as enthusiastic as me. Her cousin was flying around, teaching a young girl how to prance and dance on ice. Actually, she has a 9-year old daughter, who strapped on the skates to join us, but only after she finished doing her homework in her mom's office out back.
The daughter, whose name is Vivian by the way, was pretty talented. I guess when you get to be a rink rat every day, you pick up a thing or two. She was trying to teach me stuff, but I used the old excuse that I didn't want to fall because I on'y brought one pair of pants. Thats the truth! But also, I have a certain reputation to uphold. I am Canadian afterall. We are all born with hockey hair, no teeth and 9 months in the box, and here on the international stage, I wouldn't want to upset my fellow countrymen. I would probably be fined upon my return to Canada, and maybe I'd be banned from watching hockey for 1 year or something.
After we finished Dizzy on Ice, it was time for dinner. I was starving, too. Those 3 mystery meat sticks a gobbled earlier didn't quite fill me up. Somehow I knew though, that I would need to save room for dinner. Oh, and it was glorious. We went to an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant. Back home, I've been known to haunt the local sushi joints, and they know they're going to lose money when they see me walk in and then woddle out an hour or two later. I think you call that "Economies of Scale", although the scale is now broken, thanks to all the sushi.
With full bellies, we trotted across the street to cousin's apartment. Upstairs, little Vivian brought me a big bowl of ice cream. Jesus! What was I gonna do with this? I politely accepted it, and hey, there's always room for dessert. I'm on vacation aren't I? We hung out for a little while until I started to fall into a sushi-induced coma, and then we took off, heading again for the subway. I hope they don't push me too hard this time. I might pop! And nobody wants a sushi shower at this time of night.
After breakfast, we hopped on the subway train. We literally hopped too, as there is about a 6 inch gap between the platform and the train. This was an adventure worth telling about. The subway is a pretty inexpensive form of transportation here in Beijing. 2 Yuan will take you just about anywhere in the city. None of this paying extra for more "zones" crap like back in Vancouver. My wife is putting me to the test today. She's making me go up to the little window to purcahse our tickets. It might sound easy in principle, but for an Anglophone like me, even remembering the word for "two" can be difficult. It's doubly hard when they use different number systems depending on what you're counting. If it's two tickets, you say "Liang zhang piao". If counting, you say Ee, Ar meaning 1,2. Wierd, huh?
Now that we have our tickets, it's time to board the train. Here's something odd: they have people working on the platform who have the simple job of pushing, that's right pushing people onto the train. Back home, bus drivers will politely say "Move to the back please". In Beijing, it's more like "You don't wanna move to the back, then I'm gonna do it for you. We can fit another 30 or so people on this train, guys."
We reached our destination after about 20 minutes in Sardinia. Somebody on that train was a boozer, because even at this early hour, I could smell the sauce. We got off the train, walked up the hundred or so stairs and were on the street. We were looking for Tiantan park - the site of a few temples, museums and things. Oh, and it's also the main hangout for Senior Citizens to like to sing opera, dance and play strange instruments that you won't find at Long & McQuade. We walked down this long hallway, which I'll call "Music Alley". I was strolling through a crowd of people just as the music started, and I discovered that I was in the middle of a Senior Citizens' Dance Party, or Retro Boogie, if you will. I busted out a couple of moves, to the applause of the locals, and then I did the "Walk like an Egyptian" off the dancefloor. I always like to leave on a high note.
After Arthritic Electric Circus, we walked around to the Emperor's Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. Now, I'm not a religious guy, quite the opposite in fact, but I guess Ancient China was full of tablet thumpers who believed in all sorts of legends, folklore, and worshipping things like sheep, corn, the sun and the moon. The big round temple was at the crest of a big hill, so you could see a panoramic view of the city of Beijing. Boy, that view must have looked a lot different in the old days when the temple was first built. There was probably less smog and not as many "Beijing 2008 Olympics" billboards.
We walked around some more and stumbled upon the "Echo Wall", a place that music nerds and audio engineers would love. It's a perfectly round wall, and when inside, people can stand on opposite sides of the ring and hear each other's voice perfectly. This sounds pretty interesting in principle, but when 50 or 60 people are trying to do it simultaneously, you get a frightening mix of yells, mostly from the dude standing next to you, screaming at the top of his lungs. Wait a minute, that's the rummy from the subway! And I'm pretty sure he's here alone. Yeah that's him alright. I'd recognize that lovely aroma anywhere. Sort of a mix of Gin, dirty laundry and cigarette butts. His smell was echoing inside my nose, so I figured it was time to leave.
I was getting hungry now, so I figured it was time to grab a snack. You can buy street meat all over this city - lamb skewers, shrimp, even strawberries and pineapples on a stick. I had 3 lamb skewers and i was all set for our evening workout. We were going ice skating!
My wife's cousin is a figure skating teacher at a popular rink here in Beijing. She's damn good too! Apparently she was the Chinese National Champoin a few years back, and just missed going to the Olympics in favour of someone younger. She was busy giving a lesson, but she made sure we were given skates, and granted access to the ice. What a feeling! When you've skated maybe once in the last decade, it's kind of awkward when you step on that ice again. Needless to say, I didn't attempt any triple axles or inverted sow cows. i just did a couple hundred laps, mostly of the forward persuasion. My wife was still a little sore from climbing the Great Wall the day before, so she wasn't as enthusiastic as me. Her cousin was flying around, teaching a young girl how to prance and dance on ice. Actually, she has a 9-year old daughter, who strapped on the skates to join us, but only after she finished doing her homework in her mom's office out back.
The daughter, whose name is Vivian by the way, was pretty talented. I guess when you get to be a rink rat every day, you pick up a thing or two. She was trying to teach me stuff, but I used the old excuse that I didn't want to fall because I on'y brought one pair of pants. Thats the truth! But also, I have a certain reputation to uphold. I am Canadian afterall. We are all born with hockey hair, no teeth and 9 months in the box, and here on the international stage, I wouldn't want to upset my fellow countrymen. I would probably be fined upon my return to Canada, and maybe I'd be banned from watching hockey for 1 year or something.
After we finished Dizzy on Ice, it was time for dinner. I was starving, too. Those 3 mystery meat sticks a gobbled earlier didn't quite fill me up. Somehow I knew though, that I would need to save room for dinner. Oh, and it was glorious. We went to an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant. Back home, I've been known to haunt the local sushi joints, and they know they're going to lose money when they see me walk in and then woddle out an hour or two later. I think you call that "Economies of Scale", although the scale is now broken, thanks to all the sushi.
With full bellies, we trotted across the street to cousin's apartment. Upstairs, little Vivian brought me a big bowl of ice cream. Jesus! What was I gonna do with this? I politely accepted it, and hey, there's always room for dessert. I'm on vacation aren't I? We hung out for a little while until I started to fall into a sushi-induced coma, and then we took off, heading again for the subway. I hope they don't push me too hard this time. I might pop! And nobody wants a sushi shower at this time of night.
Feb 27 - Nate The Great Wall Climber
We awoke at 6AM today, as we were getting picked up by a tour guide at 7, and were warned not to be late. I'm tired. I went to bed around midnight, so unless the fatigue and sleep deprivation has affected my math skills, that's 3 hours sleep in the last 2 nights. Sheesh! If I had known that the tour guide was going to be a full hour late, I could have slept in until 7. That would work out to 5 hours I think. Either that or the battery on my calculator needs charging.
We booked an English tour, so I was expecting to see a bus-load of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed foreigners. If I was lucky, I might see another Canadian so we could talk canoes or compare sasquatch sighting stories. But no, as usual I was the only whitey in the group. I'm used to this feeling, but then the tour guide started off on her schpeal, in Chinese, with no English translation! What gives?!? Luckily, my wife translated the important stuff for me, like "That's the tree where Emperor So and So hung himself." You know, a real feel-good story. When the bus stopped for a bathroom break, my wife and I confronted the guide. We were under the impression that it was an English tour. We paid an extra 20 Yuan for English, now I want my English! And put a little English on that with a side of English. My wife demanded we be reimbursed 40 Yuan, and the guide offered 20, witha promise to speak English from now on. It's not what we paid for, but I guess it's better than nothing. "Wait," she says. "Please don't tell the others how much you paid." Because we booked online, we saved about 100 Yuan each. Now wait a minute. Why the hell should we lie for her? We had to haggle the English out of her! Oh well, let's just get on with the tour. I've got a wall to climb!
Before the Great Wall, we were going to visit the burial site of the 13 Emperors of the Ming Dynasty. You'd think it would be depressing, but let me tell ya, these guys have pretty graves. I don't think they made off to badly. The archaeologists found tons of gold, silver, jade, and of course the remains of several dozen concubines aka hookers who were buried alive with the emperors. There was one emperor though, who was kind of a ladies man. He was more into drinking Crystoll with his bitches that leading the nation and all that "official" jazz. So, he abolished the dead hooker burials for all future emperors. Looks like they'll be lonely in the afterlife. I hope they at least brought a book to read or something!
We putted around the burial site some more, looking at the craftsmanship and all that. There are these tree trunks holding up one of the buildings that are as round as Michael moore and as tall as Godzilla. They even kept their original colour after all these years. That was cool. My dad would be into this. He's always bragging about his stash of "teak" - a highly valuable type of lumber. Most people buy RRSP's to help save for retirement. Not the old man. A stack of rare lumber is more up his alley. Even the bricks at the burial site had an interesting story. The name of the brick maker is stamped on every single brick surrounding the temple. If the emperor saw that the bricks were crumbling, or just weren't up to snuff as far as bricks go, he'd have the guy offed! If it was me, I'd just tell him to hit the bricks and never return. Get outta town Bricky!
We left the burial site, and on the way out, the tour guide told me that pretty much everything we saw today was a duplicate. The original site was destroyed by American and British soldiers in the 1800's. Way to spoil the party guys! I guess it was competing with Disneyland and Eurodisney back then. You mess with Disney, you'd better duck, Donald.
Next up, we went to a Jade factory. You know, the jewellry, It's kind of green, but not as dark as sapphire. The tour guide at the factory didn't speak English, so I just wandered around and touched stuff. Again, it turned out that I was at the mall. Everything in the factory was for sale, and they were "Craaaazy about low prices!" Well, I guess I'm crazy too, for not taking advantage of factory prices. I don't know, I'm just not a jewelry kinda guy. Heck, I take my wedding ring off sometimes, and No it's not for that reason. What a dirty mind you have, dirty mind. I guess I just didn't set out today thinking "Boy I'd like to buy a green bracelet today! Any ideas?"
We ate a delicious lunch and then it was time for the moment of truth - The Great Wall of China. Here's an interesting little tidbit for ya: At the time of the Wall's construction, it took 100,000 workers to slap the whole thing together. At the time, this was 1/5 the population of China. And unlike Ikea furniture, it didn't come with those funny instructions that show cartoon people stubbing their toes and looking bewildered, then finally calling in for assistance. These guys were hard core, and lots of them died in the process. There are hundreds of bodies buried beneath the stones of the Great Wall. How would you like to spend your entire afterlife letting people walk all over you?
We had roughly 2 hours to be back at the parking lot, and I had my sights set on the highest point of this section of Wall. It looked like a steep climg, but heck, I've climbed the Grouse Grind back in Vancouver enough times to make this look like child's play. My wife was not quite as pumped. I felt kinda bad for leaving her behind, but she said "Go ahead" and I was off to the races. I made it to the top, bought my "I climbed the Great Wall" T-Shirt and I was loving it. I closed my eyes and pictured the early days, with all the sentrys in their shiny armour, watching the hills for Mongol intruders. They must have been in immaculate physical condition, just from climbing this staircase every day. I was sweating from the climb, but just imagine climbing 40 or 50 flights of stairs wearing a suit of plate mail and carrying a 10 foot spear with you. That's what I call endurance. Whoever got posted to the Badaling entrance of the Great Wall must have been truly made of steel.
I stopped a few times, snapping pictures both for myself and anyone else who asked. Heck, I'm a good sport. I even wore my Vancouver Canucks T-Shirt today just so I could have my picture taken wearing the Canucks logo on the Great Wall of China. Hopefully that picture will end up at a bus stop somewhere in Vancouver and some kid will draw a mustache on me or write "I like Men" in a bubble next to my head. Ahhh to be famous.
I made it back to the bus on time, running down the last section with my wife, who I met halfway down. At least she tried. I gotta give her that. Plus, she made an error in footwear judgement. Here's a tip for anyone climbing the Great Wall: Wear comfortable shoes! My wife was wearing her winter boots, but she was leap years ahead of one wingnut I saw wearing stilleto heels. Honestly, you might as well go barefoot. I don't care if it's haute cou-ture, but high heels is foot tor-ture, to be sure.
I ended my little visit off by doing my part and vandalizing a sacred piece of Chinese history. i carved my name into one of the bricks on the Great Wall. It reads "N. Stafford - Canada - 2008" Can I get in trouble for that? Naah, as long as that brick doesn't crumble, the Emperor won't come looking for me. I think I'm in the clear.
We booked an English tour, so I was expecting to see a bus-load of bright-eyed, bushy-tailed foreigners. If I was lucky, I might see another Canadian so we could talk canoes or compare sasquatch sighting stories. But no, as usual I was the only whitey in the group. I'm used to this feeling, but then the tour guide started off on her schpeal, in Chinese, with no English translation! What gives?!? Luckily, my wife translated the important stuff for me, like "That's the tree where Emperor So and So hung himself." You know, a real feel-good story. When the bus stopped for a bathroom break, my wife and I confronted the guide. We were under the impression that it was an English tour. We paid an extra 20 Yuan for English, now I want my English! And put a little English on that with a side of English. My wife demanded we be reimbursed 40 Yuan, and the guide offered 20, witha promise to speak English from now on. It's not what we paid for, but I guess it's better than nothing. "Wait," she says. "Please don't tell the others how much you paid." Because we booked online, we saved about 100 Yuan each. Now wait a minute. Why the hell should we lie for her? We had to haggle the English out of her! Oh well, let's just get on with the tour. I've got a wall to climb!
Before the Great Wall, we were going to visit the burial site of the 13 Emperors of the Ming Dynasty. You'd think it would be depressing, but let me tell ya, these guys have pretty graves. I don't think they made off to badly. The archaeologists found tons of gold, silver, jade, and of course the remains of several dozen concubines aka hookers who were buried alive with the emperors. There was one emperor though, who was kind of a ladies man. He was more into drinking Crystoll with his bitches that leading the nation and all that "official" jazz. So, he abolished the dead hooker burials for all future emperors. Looks like they'll be lonely in the afterlife. I hope they at least brought a book to read or something!
We putted around the burial site some more, looking at the craftsmanship and all that. There are these tree trunks holding up one of the buildings that are as round as Michael moore and as tall as Godzilla. They even kept their original colour after all these years. That was cool. My dad would be into this. He's always bragging about his stash of "teak" - a highly valuable type of lumber. Most people buy RRSP's to help save for retirement. Not the old man. A stack of rare lumber is more up his alley. Even the bricks at the burial site had an interesting story. The name of the brick maker is stamped on every single brick surrounding the temple. If the emperor saw that the bricks were crumbling, or just weren't up to snuff as far as bricks go, he'd have the guy offed! If it was me, I'd just tell him to hit the bricks and never return. Get outta town Bricky!
We left the burial site, and on the way out, the tour guide told me that pretty much everything we saw today was a duplicate. The original site was destroyed by American and British soldiers in the 1800's. Way to spoil the party guys! I guess it was competing with Disneyland and Eurodisney back then. You mess with Disney, you'd better duck, Donald.
Next up, we went to a Jade factory. You know, the jewellry, It's kind of green, but not as dark as sapphire. The tour guide at the factory didn't speak English, so I just wandered around and touched stuff. Again, it turned out that I was at the mall. Everything in the factory was for sale, and they were "Craaaazy about low prices!" Well, I guess I'm crazy too, for not taking advantage of factory prices. I don't know, I'm just not a jewelry kinda guy. Heck, I take my wedding ring off sometimes, and No it's not for that reason. What a dirty mind you have, dirty mind. I guess I just didn't set out today thinking "Boy I'd like to buy a green bracelet today! Any ideas?"
We ate a delicious lunch and then it was time for the moment of truth - The Great Wall of China. Here's an interesting little tidbit for ya: At the time of the Wall's construction, it took 100,000 workers to slap the whole thing together. At the time, this was 1/5 the population of China. And unlike Ikea furniture, it didn't come with those funny instructions that show cartoon people stubbing their toes and looking bewildered, then finally calling in for assistance. These guys were hard core, and lots of them died in the process. There are hundreds of bodies buried beneath the stones of the Great Wall. How would you like to spend your entire afterlife letting people walk all over you?
We had roughly 2 hours to be back at the parking lot, and I had my sights set on the highest point of this section of Wall. It looked like a steep climg, but heck, I've climbed the Grouse Grind back in Vancouver enough times to make this look like child's play. My wife was not quite as pumped. I felt kinda bad for leaving her behind, but she said "Go ahead" and I was off to the races. I made it to the top, bought my "I climbed the Great Wall" T-Shirt and I was loving it. I closed my eyes and pictured the early days, with all the sentrys in their shiny armour, watching the hills for Mongol intruders. They must have been in immaculate physical condition, just from climbing this staircase every day. I was sweating from the climb, but just imagine climbing 40 or 50 flights of stairs wearing a suit of plate mail and carrying a 10 foot spear with you. That's what I call endurance. Whoever got posted to the Badaling entrance of the Great Wall must have been truly made of steel.
I stopped a few times, snapping pictures both for myself and anyone else who asked. Heck, I'm a good sport. I even wore my Vancouver Canucks T-Shirt today just so I could have my picture taken wearing the Canucks logo on the Great Wall of China. Hopefully that picture will end up at a bus stop somewhere in Vancouver and some kid will draw a mustache on me or write "I like Men" in a bubble next to my head. Ahhh to be famous.
I made it back to the bus on time, running down the last section with my wife, who I met halfway down. At least she tried. I gotta give her that. Plus, she made an error in footwear judgement. Here's a tip for anyone climbing the Great Wall: Wear comfortable shoes! My wife was wearing her winter boots, but she was leap years ahead of one wingnut I saw wearing stilleto heels. Honestly, you might as well go barefoot. I don't care if it's haute cou-ture, but high heels is foot tor-ture, to be sure.
I ended my little visit off by doing my part and vandalizing a sacred piece of Chinese history. i carved my name into one of the bricks on the Great Wall. It reads "N. Stafford - Canada - 2008" Can I get in trouble for that? Naah, as long as that brick doesn't crumble, the Emperor won't come looking for me. I think I'm in the clear.
Feb 26th - I Wish Salesmen Were Forbiddden in the City
Today we walked to Tiananmen Square after getting settled at our hotel in downtown Beijing. I'd describe the view from our hotel room, but we decided to go with the cheapest little number inthe place, which doesn't come with a window. Maybe we'll change rooms tomorrow, but right now it seems like a bit of a pane. I didn't sleep at all on the train last night, so I'm inclined to crash just about anywhere tonight. My, that pile of broken beer bottles is looking like a feather bed right now. Very inviting. But no, there are places to go, people to sell us stuff.
This brings me to our little visit to Tiananmen Square. By the way, it seems to be perfectly square by all my calculations. I was worried that it would turn out to be just another rhombus or trapezoid, and my trip would be ruined. But no! Baby, it's square and I'm hip to it. Down the street, you can see the building where former Chinese leader Mao's body is resting. For five bucks you can get up close enough to see his body. All that separates you from his Commie Corpse is a 1/4 inch sheet of glass. Spooky! I don't know the number for Beijing Ghostbusters, so I better not chance it. I'll just walk on by.
Now on to the Forbidden City. The first thing I noticed was the red paint. Everywhere. I think the Chinese people believe that red is their collective colour, because it's everywhere! Red walls, red flags, red rum... We walked across a little bridge and were suddenly inside this ancient fortress surrounded by walls, roughly 30 feet tall. The buildings were incredibly detailed, with thatched roofs and gold paint everywhere. It's just so fabulous, that I have a feeling - and it's just a feeling - that the Emperor was either a bit of a Fairy, or he had some help from the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy team. I will only say that once, because if that opinion went public, I would probably have my right hand cut off and I'd be forced to do the rest of my writing with my nose or big toe.
It's been established that I hate the mall. I can't drag myself into those retail stores because those smarmy clerks are always verbally assaulting me. "May I help you?" Jeez, I'm not an invalid. I can help myself thank you very much. Now, please allow me to check out back for my size. Do you honestly think they really have to "Check out back" every time? Don't you think they would have a rough idea what's in stock? And why is the store room always at the back of the store? Couldn't they check on the side? Or in the attic? I want to shop at a store where they say: "Yes, we might have that. Let me chack the Lazy Susan."
Now, back to the forbidden city. I was just looking around, minding my own business, when I found myself being attacked by salesmen everywhere I turned. They would say "Hello ____ (insert product). Hello. T-Shirt. Hello. Soft Drink. Hello. Restraining Order!" A few guys were trying to sell me guided tours of other tourist traps. "Hello. Great Wall. Hello. Terra Cotta Warriors." I'll just go with this one for now thanks. Where are we again? Oh right, the mall. Do you have this in a Go to Hell? Maybe. I'll check out back.
This brings me to our little visit to Tiananmen Square. By the way, it seems to be perfectly square by all my calculations. I was worried that it would turn out to be just another rhombus or trapezoid, and my trip would be ruined. But no! Baby, it's square and I'm hip to it. Down the street, you can see the building where former Chinese leader Mao's body is resting. For five bucks you can get up close enough to see his body. All that separates you from his Commie Corpse is a 1/4 inch sheet of glass. Spooky! I don't know the number for Beijing Ghostbusters, so I better not chance it. I'll just walk on by.
Now on to the Forbidden City. The first thing I noticed was the red paint. Everywhere. I think the Chinese people believe that red is their collective colour, because it's everywhere! Red walls, red flags, red rum... We walked across a little bridge and were suddenly inside this ancient fortress surrounded by walls, roughly 30 feet tall. The buildings were incredibly detailed, with thatched roofs and gold paint everywhere. It's just so fabulous, that I have a feeling - and it's just a feeling - that the Emperor was either a bit of a Fairy, or he had some help from the Queer Eye for the Straight Guy team. I will only say that once, because if that opinion went public, I would probably have my right hand cut off and I'd be forced to do the rest of my writing with my nose or big toe.
It's been established that I hate the mall. I can't drag myself into those retail stores because those smarmy clerks are always verbally assaulting me. "May I help you?" Jeez, I'm not an invalid. I can help myself thank you very much. Now, please allow me to check out back for my size. Do you honestly think they really have to "Check out back" every time? Don't you think they would have a rough idea what's in stock? And why is the store room always at the back of the store? Couldn't they check on the side? Or in the attic? I want to shop at a store where they say: "Yes, we might have that. Let me chack the Lazy Susan."
Now, back to the forbidden city. I was just looking around, minding my own business, when I found myself being attacked by salesmen everywhere I turned. They would say "Hello ____ (insert product). Hello. T-Shirt. Hello. Soft Drink. Hello. Restraining Order!" A few guys were trying to sell me guided tours of other tourist traps. "Hello. Great Wall. Hello. Terra Cotta Warriors." I'll just go with this one for now thanks. Where are we again? Oh right, the mall. Do you have this in a Go to Hell? Maybe. I'll check out back.
Feb 25th - Pains, Trains & Automobiles, Beijing Style
We just completed our 10-hour journey from Harbin to Beijing via rail. No, it wasn't the actual company VIA Rail. I'm pretty sure that's only in Canada. Pity. We took the 2nd cheapest option, so I imagine it's one step up from the livestock cars. But brother, the smells don't lie. We were down on the farm.
The first little debacle we ran into was the fact that my wife and I weren't seated together. We bought our tickets at the last minute, and there wasn't much to choose from. She was in car #2 and I was in #18 aka the Foreigner Car. No, it's not a car that blasts 70's arena rock band Foreigner all night long, but believe me, I dropped a note in the suggestion box regarding said issue. I didn't have my mullet teased and zuma pants dry cleaned for nothing! After some wonderful haggling by my wife, I swapped tickets with someone, and we were together at last.
Now, to describe the passenger compartments or "sleepers" as they are called, you would have to picture a prision cell, or perhaps a jail on rails. I'm pretty sure most convicts try to squeeze in a rail whenever possible, but I was on 2 all night long, and brother, it was a bumpy ride. Each sleeper fits 4 prisioners, in bunkbeds on either side of the doorway. I felt like I was in that movie Sleep Away Camp, but I hope the ending would turn out a little differently. You know where "Sam" reveals to everyone that she is a Samuel and not a Samantha.
We had 2 other cellmates in our sleeper. A lady who was instantly asleep when we arrived, or at least pretending to be, and my new best friend, the ultimate travel companion. You, know, the kind of guy you just love to share a long journey with. Here was a guy with not one but two cellphones, one of which had a dead battery so it kept bleeping every 2 minutes, and the other had a guitar riff ring tone from Skid Row that was cranked up to eleven. But that my friends, was just the beginning...
When the lights went out, I discovered our bunkmate's true charm. I guess he is a snorer/sleep talker. Actually, he's more of a sleep crier. I swear to you, he was sobbing in his sleep. Now I really felt like I was in prision. I didn't sleep a wink for the entire trip, partly because it was stiflingly hot in our little sleeper sauna, and mostly because I was afraid that if I dozed off, "Tiny" over there would resort to prision rules and adopt me as his teddy bear to help curb the night sobbing. Who knows, maybe he had a bad experience at summer camp when he was oh, 37. But, you can't really hold a grudge against someone for things they do in their sleep. I wouldn't dream of it.
We finally arrived at Beijing Station and we ran into the nice fellow who swapped tickets with me. My wife told him about our adventures, and how I spent the night cowering in the corner of my bunk, gripping my pillow tight, not sleeping a wink. Actually, he said his night was pretty similar, and he didn't sleep a wink either. Meanwhile, our faithful bunkmate was having some trouble pulling his jumbo suitcase out from under the bottom bunk, but since he was the only one of us who got any sleep, I figured he could handle it himself.
Outside the train station, mayhem ensued. As my wife stood in line to buy tickets for our trip home, I stood by watching thousands of people pushing and shoving in a huge lineup, which I figured was for the soup kitchen, the way they hungrily shoved each other and stepped on toes. Actually, this was the line for catching a taxi, and we were about to join in the fun. Now, I've seen line weasels at work, but this must have been a cutting-in-line convention. Christ, was nothing sacred? I made up a little song for the occasion:
"When I went to China, what did I find? Nobody knows how to wait in line."
My wife told me to be aggressive, so I started blocking the weasels from cutting in front of me, using my giant backpack like a heavy bag, swinging it at the culprits, left and right. I let one family go ahead of me though. They had a toddler with them who looked like he was pretty cold. So I guess some weaselry is justified. I'm not heartless, no. But just because you are slippery, and know how to work the angles, that doesn't merit you a taxi before everybody else. We eventually got our taxi, after my wife got into a bit of a scuffle with a Chinese couple who tried to pin her against the fence to get by. Their reason: "We're older than you, so we shouldn't have to wait in line." Well, I'm pretty sure if I kept letting people pass me, I'll be a senior citizen pretty soon too. Taxi!
When we arrived at the hotel to check into the room we so wisely booked ahead of time, there was a bit of an issue. You can't get in unless you show your passport. I guess it's a new rule becuase of the olympics. Any foreigner, as well as anyone travelling with said foreigner must show a passport before they can check in. Fair enough. I guess if I go ahead and steal all their towels and miniature soaps, they can have me deported. Fair trade.
My wife, still being a Chinese citizen and all, didn't feel the need to bring her passport with her on this little trip, seeing as how we haven't left China. All she had on her were here Canadian Permanent Resident Card, and her BC Driver's License. That, and a plastic bag, can get you a big ol' bag of nothin' at this hotel. She had to phone home and have the maid fax her passport to the hotel office. While we were waiting, the desk clerk suggested that we wait in the restaurant. I think it was just a big scam to get us to buy some breakfast, which we did.
Now, I know I promised that I wouldn't describe any bodily functions in this blog, but if I were to let that rule slip just this once, I would describe a big one about 3 1/2 minutes after ingesting the "International Buffet". I wonder if the food needed to show its passport, because as soon as it checked in, there must have been a problem with the accomodations, because it immediately checked out. I suppose my edible guests didn't feel at home, and left out the back way without leaving a tip. They were loud, rude and crude, and I had to clean up a big mess after them. Some guests overstay their welcome. These ones didn't stay around long enough for that problem to arise. We experienced a sort of "falling out" that still haunts me to this day.
Now that we're in our room, I think we'll have a little nap before heading out to explore Beijing. First on the docket is Tienman Square. I've brought my tape measure, compass and protractor along on this trip, so it better be perfectly square, or I'm going home.
The first little debacle we ran into was the fact that my wife and I weren't seated together. We bought our tickets at the last minute, and there wasn't much to choose from. She was in car #2 and I was in #18 aka the Foreigner Car. No, it's not a car that blasts 70's arena rock band Foreigner all night long, but believe me, I dropped a note in the suggestion box regarding said issue. I didn't have my mullet teased and zuma pants dry cleaned for nothing! After some wonderful haggling by my wife, I swapped tickets with someone, and we were together at last.
Now, to describe the passenger compartments or "sleepers" as they are called, you would have to picture a prision cell, or perhaps a jail on rails. I'm pretty sure most convicts try to squeeze in a rail whenever possible, but I was on 2 all night long, and brother, it was a bumpy ride. Each sleeper fits 4 prisioners, in bunkbeds on either side of the doorway. I felt like I was in that movie Sleep Away Camp, but I hope the ending would turn out a little differently. You know where "Sam" reveals to everyone that she is a Samuel and not a Samantha.
We had 2 other cellmates in our sleeper. A lady who was instantly asleep when we arrived, or at least pretending to be, and my new best friend, the ultimate travel companion. You, know, the kind of guy you just love to share a long journey with. Here was a guy with not one but two cellphones, one of which had a dead battery so it kept bleeping every 2 minutes, and the other had a guitar riff ring tone from Skid Row that was cranked up to eleven. But that my friends, was just the beginning...
When the lights went out, I discovered our bunkmate's true charm. I guess he is a snorer/sleep talker. Actually, he's more of a sleep crier. I swear to you, he was sobbing in his sleep. Now I really felt like I was in prision. I didn't sleep a wink for the entire trip, partly because it was stiflingly hot in our little sleeper sauna, and mostly because I was afraid that if I dozed off, "Tiny" over there would resort to prision rules and adopt me as his teddy bear to help curb the night sobbing. Who knows, maybe he had a bad experience at summer camp when he was oh, 37. But, you can't really hold a grudge against someone for things they do in their sleep. I wouldn't dream of it.
We finally arrived at Beijing Station and we ran into the nice fellow who swapped tickets with me. My wife told him about our adventures, and how I spent the night cowering in the corner of my bunk, gripping my pillow tight, not sleeping a wink. Actually, he said his night was pretty similar, and he didn't sleep a wink either. Meanwhile, our faithful bunkmate was having some trouble pulling his jumbo suitcase out from under the bottom bunk, but since he was the only one of us who got any sleep, I figured he could handle it himself.
Outside the train station, mayhem ensued. As my wife stood in line to buy tickets for our trip home, I stood by watching thousands of people pushing and shoving in a huge lineup, which I figured was for the soup kitchen, the way they hungrily shoved each other and stepped on toes. Actually, this was the line for catching a taxi, and we were about to join in the fun. Now, I've seen line weasels at work, but this must have been a cutting-in-line convention. Christ, was nothing sacred? I made up a little song for the occasion:
"When I went to China, what did I find? Nobody knows how to wait in line."
My wife told me to be aggressive, so I started blocking the weasels from cutting in front of me, using my giant backpack like a heavy bag, swinging it at the culprits, left and right. I let one family go ahead of me though. They had a toddler with them who looked like he was pretty cold. So I guess some weaselry is justified. I'm not heartless, no. But just because you are slippery, and know how to work the angles, that doesn't merit you a taxi before everybody else. We eventually got our taxi, after my wife got into a bit of a scuffle with a Chinese couple who tried to pin her against the fence to get by. Their reason: "We're older than you, so we shouldn't have to wait in line." Well, I'm pretty sure if I kept letting people pass me, I'll be a senior citizen pretty soon too. Taxi!
When we arrived at the hotel to check into the room we so wisely booked ahead of time, there was a bit of an issue. You can't get in unless you show your passport. I guess it's a new rule becuase of the olympics. Any foreigner, as well as anyone travelling with said foreigner must show a passport before they can check in. Fair enough. I guess if I go ahead and steal all their towels and miniature soaps, they can have me deported. Fair trade.
My wife, still being a Chinese citizen and all, didn't feel the need to bring her passport with her on this little trip, seeing as how we haven't left China. All she had on her were here Canadian Permanent Resident Card, and her BC Driver's License. That, and a plastic bag, can get you a big ol' bag of nothin' at this hotel. She had to phone home and have the maid fax her passport to the hotel office. While we were waiting, the desk clerk suggested that we wait in the restaurant. I think it was just a big scam to get us to buy some breakfast, which we did.
Now, I know I promised that I wouldn't describe any bodily functions in this blog, but if I were to let that rule slip just this once, I would describe a big one about 3 1/2 minutes after ingesting the "International Buffet". I wonder if the food needed to show its passport, because as soon as it checked in, there must have been a problem with the accomodations, because it immediately checked out. I suppose my edible guests didn't feel at home, and left out the back way without leaving a tip. They were loud, rude and crude, and I had to clean up a big mess after them. Some guests overstay their welcome. These ones didn't stay around long enough for that problem to arise. We experienced a sort of "falling out" that still haunts me to this day.
Now that we're in our room, I think we'll have a little nap before heading out to explore Beijing. First on the docket is Tienman Square. I've brought my tape measure, compass and protractor along on this trip, so it better be perfectly square, or I'm going home.
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