bustling in beijing

First of all, this was an incredible trip. Truly one of the most spectacular places I have ever traveled for so many reasons – the size of the city, the sheer mass of people moving through it at any one time, the ancient history peeking through towering modernity at every turn, the obvious intensity of urban transformation and urban renewal in preparation for an international debut in August as the host of the 2008 Olympics, and my presence at some of the most fabled locations in history, pulsating with culture, ancient wisdom and deep memory.

It was a trip that took me by surprise, falling just after the Christmas rush – holiday parties, events at school, mailing packages back to the states, the usual holiday fervor. I barely started reading about the city and our planned itinerary just three days before our departure. Most of my research was done on the train to Seoul, reading fascinating articles sent to us by Jim’s dad about the city in flux and the architectural restructuring of Beijing as a place where the ancient and the modern collide, sometimes not so amicably.

The Word on the Street
The topics du jour of most reporting focused on Beijing these days are air quality and the fate of the ancient hutong – the neighborhoods in Beijing that are the diametric opposites of the giant skyscrapers and modern apartment buildings going up all over the city. The air quality, as many people know, is abysmal – in some cases, even being called the “air pollution capital of the world.” Architects have been lamenting the “Beijing haze” that extends across the city and makes viewing new buildings from far distances nearly impossible. Here are a couple of good articles on the current state of air pollution and preparations for the games. The city is taking great measures to curb the pollution in the months leading up to the games, but it’s insane, really, to think that the air will be at all actually “good” for you. When we were there, the haze was visible as were the many smokestacks dotting the skyline. We managed to not develop a hacking cough, but it isn’t a city I’d want to live in for a long period of time precisely because of the air issues.

The other hot topic in the world of journalism is the hutong. The hutong is a classic example of community living in Beijing. They are neighborhoods set in dark, small alleyways all throughout the city. No one has any idea how many there are right now, and there are many conflicting stats on how many there were in 1960 (2,000, 4,000, 6,000) and how many there are now (800, 2,000). What people do agree on is this: there are far less hutong now than there were 50 years ago.

Many hutong were built almost 800 years ago. The Wikipedia article has some good basic info on them. They were originally created in the courtyard-style, with one courtyard housing 20 or so members of one family. The buildings are low-slung, sloped-roof constructions in the shape of a rectangle with a courtyard in the center. Living quarters were placed around this courtyard, with different areas for men and women, cooking, sleeping, etc. During the Cultural Revolution (a topic that’s far too complex to elaborate in here, but one that is fascinating and essential to understanding the history of Beijing and China), when Chairman Mao deemed it necessary to expunge all evidence of external influence on the country – art, music, dance, theater, and even some traditions of artistry that were native to China, there was also a transformation in the housing and city plan situation. Highrises and wide boulevards took priority over the preservation of these historic areas. Over a period of 60 years, many hutongs have been leveled, though hard work has gone into forcing the city to preserve a numbers of areas. In addition, though I’m not so clear on how this went down, but we are told that in the late 70’s, there was an earthquake in Beijing that required creative housing arrangements. One of the executed plans was the transformation of the courtyard spaces in to actual living spaces. So rooms were constructed in the interior spaces, eliminating an essential architectural element and forcing many more people to live in close quarters.

Many hutong have been neglected as living spaces in a city that pushes relentlessly towards modernity. Many do not have indoor plumbing, forcing residents to walk far distances to public toilets on the outskirts of each neighborhood. Some of the hutong are pretty run-down, and people live in squalor. The argument has been that if the government had devoted resources to providing each area with the basic necessities of infrastructure that they needed to be viable as residential areas, there would be much less reason to bulldoze them and build new towering apartments on top of them. But alas, big real estate usually prevails in such situations. And the issues surrounding the hutong are many. There’s the usual concerns that accompany destruction of ancient neighborhoods: displacement of families, loss of affordable housing, etc. And then there’s the idea that some of these places really aren’t suitable for human existence. And so what do you do with that? But whatever you think about the hutong, the destruction and displacement is evident when you get above street level in the city. We stood atop a tower (called the Drum Tower) near the Houhai area and gazed upon several nearby areas that had been clearly leveled to make way for new construction.

There definitely a preservation movement afoot to keep the hutong that are “worth” preserving intact. The Houhai area is one of those being preserved -- and one that is heavily populated by rickshaw drivers ready to take you on a hutong tour. And there’s also a handful of new investors who are commissioning the construction of new courtyard houses either within hutong areas or in between giant apartment buildings, as we witnessed in several places in our tours around the city. Western cash is flowing in to snap up these historic houses. Rupert Murdoch put his name on the list.

Whichever way you cut it, the transformation of Beijing is intense and pervasive. It’s palpable everywhere. The first place we went when we arrived was to a subway stop to catch a cab to a spa we had an appointment at. When we got out of the subway, we were smacked with so many conflicting images – brand new luxury mall across the street complete with Burberry, Chanel, and Gucci; a sign for a Wal-Mart parking lot; hundreds of bicyclers crisscrossing the streets, weaving in an out of serious manic traffic; vendors on the corners selling roasted sweet potatoes out of a giant steel drum barrel burning with hot coals; a magazine stand on the corner brimming with Western fashion magazines, Chinese newspapers and a variety of girlie magazines. And so, with that “brief” introduction, on to the real deal on our trip through Beijing.

2007 December 29: Stopover in Seoul
After trying to make two trains and almost missing the third one, we made it out of Gwangju and up to Seoul. We spent a lovely evening in the city with our dear friends, Bonnie and Justin, sharing good stories, great insights, fabulous music and general silliness. They were generous enough to give us some space to crash at their wee apartment. While we were there, chatting away, drinking Yogi tea and enjoying the warmth of the small space, it had been snowing outside, unbeknownst to the silly kids inside. We flung open the triple set of windows to let some cool air into the steamy space, and found to our delight the street below dusted with fresh snow. One of the most beautiful things for me – snow that falls undisturbed in the wee hours of the night, lit by the orange glow of street lights. Lovely indeed. And so, after a glorious evening, we headed to the airport around 6 am to catch our 2-hour flight to Beijing.

2007 December 30: Landing in Beijing
We were greeted at the airport by our cute little tour guide, Tina. Fresh out of university, this was only her second month as an official guide. She was sweet and funny. She ushered us off to our private car (yes, PRIVATE! No Minnesotans or Floridians in white sneakers to contend with on our tour.), and we headed to our hotel. Once on the highway, the enormity of Beijing was apparent. Construction everywhere, dilapidated buildings abutting brand new concert halls and office complexes, malls everywhere, fabulous modern architecture tucked in next to ancient temple sites and Ming palaces. And the cars. Our perspective on traveling there was interesting having been in Korea for as long as we have been. In Korea, there are very few non-Korean cars on the roads. In Beijing, every make and model you could imagine crawled along in traffic. VW, Ford, Chrysler, Honda, Toyota.

On to the hotel. Wow. Super modern, super posh. Definitely the nicest hotel I’ve ever stayed in as a traveler. The space was lovely as were the rooms and the buffet breakfast that we discovered the next morning – Western and Chinese food galore. I got crispy bacon and banana bread along with lamb curry and yummy Sichuan chicken. We relaxed in the hotel for a bit, unwinding and unpacking. Put the bunny ears on, of course, with our plush hotel robes. Very decadent. Then, we were off to the Zen Spa to enjoy a 90 minute signature combo massage (Thai, Swedish, Chinese and some other things thrown in for good measure). The winter season with its low tourism rates made the offer too good to pass up – about $100 for a 90 minute massage in a private couple room set in a courtyard house. I mean really!

Our trip was a trip. We had no idea how to get where we were going. The place was pretty far out in the southeastern corner of the city, beyond the 4th Ring Road (the city is divided by 4 ring roads that encircle the ancient center of the city, the first of which resulted in the destruction of the original city wall in its construction). We jumped on the subway, managed to get to our stop, and found a taxi to the spa. On the way, we passed some really bizarre new buildings and our first Wal-Mart in China. When we arrived at the spa, it was tucked back behind a lot of crazy construction, down a small street bordering a city river of sorts. I jumped out of the taxi (super cheap, btw, about $4 for a 20 minute ride), and left one glove behind in my haste and amazement at where we had found ourselves. It’s impossible to describe the beauty and awe of this city. Hopefully the pictures we have will do it some justice. But I’ll try to explain. We had come upon a courtyard house with several different sections. On the right side was a large meeting hall or temple space of sorts that housed a large number of chairs in the main room as well as a dozen large jade sculptures that lined the windows. The room had a stage or sorts and a balcony area. There was a main door to the space immediately in front of us. I don’t have any idea what the place was used for, but it was gorgeous. The entrance to the spa was on the left. We walked up some stone steps and found a sleek line of marble and granite speckled with tea lights leading us to the reception area. We were greeted with such warmth and accommodation by lovely receptionists. We were ushered to our room across the courtyard, a space that contained a stunning Japanese garden lined by a traditionally painted corridor that wrapped around its circumference.

And oh the room. Oh my. I don’t know that I’ve ever stepped into a place that was quite as beautiful as this. It was probably about 800 sq. ft. complete with a silk upholstered couch, two massage tables, a bed in the corner for special treatments, a huge divided bathroom with a toilet and sink on one side and a double Jacuzzi tub on the other, and finally, a granite shower with bamboo lining one wall. Everything was candlelit and adorned with small purple orchids and gerber daisies. There were even gerbers floating in a bowl just below the spot of the table for our heads, so that when we were laying face down, our views was of them rather than just the ground.

The massage was incredible. One therapist for each of us. 90 minutes of heaven. It had been a long time since I indulged like that, and let me tell you, Kabuki’s got nothing on this place. We drank lovely lemon green tea and enjoyed some snacks after our treatment in the main reception area. I had mentioned to the receptionist that I had left my glove in the taxi, and she promised to “do her best” to recover the glove for me. Sure enough, as I was getting ready to pay, she reached under the counter and produced the missing glove. She had tracked down the taxi and asked him to come back to take us wherever we needed to go next. I was astounded. But not as astounded at the random deal we got shortly thereafter. I handed the girl my amex card to pay for the treatments. She disappeared for a minute and returned with the news that since we both had the same treatment, and I was paying with an amex, I would get a 15% discount. That’s what I heard. 15%. So the slip comes back for me to sign, and I’m startled b/c the 15% I thought I heard had suddenly turned into 50%. So, for the lucky price of 800 RMB (or ~$100), we got two of the best massages we’ve had in a long time in one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. I was floored and couldn’t explain until we got to the car. And when we did, we found the same taxi driver ready to take us to our next destination.

And that destination was Wal-Mart.

Go ahead, laugh all you want. We went. It was a necessary evil. It was weird. We escaped rather quickly, even snagging some great deals on Chinese New Year paper art on our way. We ducked into the godforsaken place to see if we couldn’t find a camera for jim as he had left his prized digital in Gwangju and was understandably distraught over the loss of it. We ended up moving on to another place and finding a decent camera and paying cash in full for it.

And off we went to Houhai, a district of hutong, bars, restaurants, cafes and clubs lining a lovely lake district in the northwestern section of town, above the Forbidden City. We meandered in extremely cold weather along a long boulevard and discovered a tiny little Tibetan restaurant with only a handful of tables. Inside, we found warmth and not a single other customer. The place was adorned with gorgeous traditional Tibetan art and the waitresses, clearly a family, were dressed in the most beautiful silk gowns. We ordered two different kinds of curries, a rice dish that came with an explosion of flavorful additions mixed into it, and a sheep leg (I kept saying how it tasted like the farm, and Jim kept asking me, what farm?). We drank tea that we couldn’t possibly identify and Tibetan beer. After dinner, we wandered further into the neighborhood and found a bustling street with lots of shops and bars. We heard Jack Johnson drifting down the street and ducked into the bar that was its source. A dark little cavern where I had the worst Manhattan of my life and Jim drank a pretty decent Brandy Alexander, though I’ve never actually had one, so I couldn’t tell you what the hell it’s supposed to taste like. We got pretty tired pretty fast and made our way back to our palatial room at the Holiday Inn.

Stay tuned for more tales from Beijing...