day two: beijing

Day 2 December 31, 2007

Tiananmen Square, The Forbidden City, Temple of Heaven, Peking duck, Chinese opera and Houhai for New Years

What an incredible day. So much history to see in one day. It was the coldest I have experienced in Asia and perhaps ever in my life in Beijing that day. And we were outside for the majority of the day, bouncing from one place to another.

Tiananmen Square (Gate of Heaven) was first. We walked through the square dotted with other tourists, Chinese guards and tsotchke hawkers, trying desperately to stay warm in the biting cold wind. That day was double scarf, double hat day. I was well aware of how incredibly silly looked, but for once, function trumped fashion and my scheme of bizarre layering kept me reasonable warm. As we walked past Mao’s tomb, a man tried to sell Jim Mao’s little book. Not into the bargaining at that point, I walked on with Tina, our guide, as she explained where we were and how hard it is to get in to see Mao’s tomb on the limited days that it is open to the public. As we walked, Jim caught up with us after a sly bargaining session with the hawker. Mao’s Little Red Book had been purchased, in front of his tomb, for less than $5 – the starting price had been $30, I think. Classic.

So, book, in hand, we made our way across the square to the Forbidden City across the street. I just remember the feeling of awe. I can’t believe we’re in this place. I can’t believe we’re actually seeing the Chinese flag towering above Tiananmen. Seeing Mao’s portrait hanging big as life above the crowds streaming into the city. As we crossed the square, I noticed two things. First, that there were little electric cars zooming around the area – garbage collection/maintenance cars, and second, that there happened to be a large group of people wearing the classic souvenir commie red winter hat holding a Mexican flag. Yes, seriously, a large group of Mexicans taking a group shot in Tiananmen Square. It was surprising to say the least. Not something one would expect to see in China.

So, we passed through the underground walkway to get to the entrance to the Forbidden City. Columns and bridges lined the front entrance. Dragons climbed the columns and the pair of lions stood on either side of the entrance – female/mother lion with the small lion cub under her front left paw on the left and male/father lion with the globe under his left paw on the right (for those of you familiar with Chinese iconography, these are classic symbols, but I won’t pretend here that I really have any idea what most of the things I saw meant as I really have no experience with any of it aside from this trip to Beijing).

Entering the gates of the city was surreal. We walked through the cold and stopped just short of the actual entrance to wait for Tina to buy our tickets. As we waited, I entertained myself by doing some funny signature dances and staring in awe at the Russian tourists surrounding us. This was one of the highlights of the trip as far as people watching went. You see, this is a new breed of tourist for me – the wealthy (or seemingly wealthy) Russian tourist. The women are often covered from head to toe in fur and drip with jewels. Their hair has been frosted, dyed, streaked, highlighted and extended. Their makeup is definitely Mac Factor-style. And they and their male counterparts ooze with heavy perfume and cologne. They traveled in large groups. And seriously, the furs were out of control. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m not ashamed to admit that I spent quite a bit of time trying to capture the essence of their persona on film, but I don’t think I ever really succeeded.

And so into the city we went, wandering through ancient gates, peering into temples and ceremonial sites. Empress quarters, classrooms, business rooms, etc. Across stone bridges and around sculptures of auspicious animals. As we were about to pass through one of the last sections of the city with the longest dragon wall, I caught sight of the Mexicans again. And being so starved for the language, I couldn’t resist speaking to the when I heard Spanish floating around. So, I stopped one boy as he walked by, asking him where they were from. Well, Mexico. Ok, where, though? Sonora. Ok, where, though? Oh, Guaymas, Hermosillo. We’re university students. Wow. Right. So, Sonora, Mexico is essentially Arizona. Pima County, where I’m from butts right up against Sonora. And kids in my school for as long as I can remember were from Guaymas and Hermosillo. So, suddenly, I find myself in Beijing, inside the Forbidden City, speaking Spanish with a guy from Hermosillo (did I mention that he was adorable, totally cute, so cute, in fact, that Jim thought I was talking to a girl! Ah, el guapos mexicanos.). It was fantastic. Strangely, I’ve found that speaking Spanish here, though I rarely get the chance, is actually quite easy. Last weekend I went to a party for a friend’s birthday and I met a Korean guy who spent the first 10 years of his life in Madrid. So, he’s Spanish-Korean, and speaks perfect Spanish and English. We spoke for quite a while and it felt so good to get into the language again. But I digress…

We made it through the city in about 2 hours and were then whisked away to our first on-tour lunch. Lemme tell you, divine. Seriously some of the best food on this tour. I’m a little obsessed with food and taking pictures of food. So, be prepared to be regaled with tales of culinary delights. This first lunch was this: cabbage steamed and sautéed with chestnuts, stir fried strips of delicious pork, lemon duck, and this amazing soup that had some sort of leafy green in it that seemed to be covered in a thin layer of gelatin. The leaf could have been lotus, maybe, but I’d never seen anything else like it. No one could tell us the English word, but ended up having the soup again, so it’s pretty common, I’m guessing. And of course, jasmine tea. All the restaurants we went to with the tour were pretty big places with tons of tables and lovely atmosphere. They all had enormous Buddha statues and shrines in their foyers. This first restaurant was the best one, though. Big, fat, gold, happy Buddha with dozens of little Buddha babies climbing all over the place.

After lunch, the Temple of Heaven (Tiantan). This is a series of temples set in a large park built by the Ming dynasty. The temple site has been a place of harvest ceremonies for more than a thousand years. There are four main structures in the complex – the Round Altar, the Echo Wall, the Imperial Vault of Heaven and the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. I won’t spend too much time here discussing the significance of all these places. I don’t know enough about them to say more than what my guide book tells me. But the experience there was truly breathtaking and beautiful. We entered the park from the east and found ourselves on a long, open walkway stretching along one side of the large wooded park. All along this walkway were older, retired men and women engaged in everything from gambling to fan dancing to playing hackey sack with a feathered toy. It was incredible. I wandered along the walkway watching so many things going on at the same time. We found some ladies doing a fan dance with bright red fans. I watched little ladies knitting all manner of small animals and wearbles along the walls of the walkway. Old men played traditional instruments as people gathered around them to sing and dance. Other people played all sorts of games, one like an elegant version of smash ball or the Basque game, pelota, where they use those big wicker baskets to throw the ball, and the other, the hackey sack game. Jim bought one of the feathered hackey sack and the three of us played for quite a while towards the end of the walkway. A Chinese man cheered us on on the sidelines. It was awesome. And as we played, we watched another man walk by us, turning circles as he walked down the long hallway towards the entrance to the Temple of Heaven. Truly blissful.

As we walked through the complex, we wandered into small exhibits halls off to the side of the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests. Inside we had conversations about religion and cultural traditions. How my country is different from China. Trying to explain to our tour guide, a Buddhist from a culture with such deep, iconographic and ceremonial history, that the US simply does not have any such thing and that it is quite radically different from the history I was witnessing in China. We came upon a picture of Nixon with Mao, and we tried to explain the views on Nixon, which led us into a pretty frank and not so rosy conversation about the current administration and it’s ties to that administration, which led to a conversation about Reagan, which prompted a man standing nearby to make one of the strongest defensive comments about Reagan I have experienced in a long time, basically deriding Jim for a comment he had made about the decade in which the man was an actor, reminding us quite sternly and condescendingly that he was also the governor before he was the president, and then brashly and huffily turning on his heels and walking away. Seems even Republicans travel to China. We walked away laughing at the absurdity of the exchange. In Korea, it is pretty rare to be around anyone who understands what I’m saying, which is a weird space to be in. I took to heart the realization that my ideas and comments do travel to ears that understand, even in a space where seemingly no one speaks my language. Though I certainly didn’t care what that man thought of my views or Jim’s, it was valuable as an experience to be reminded that I am not alone in my world.

As we made our way to the south entrance of the complex to end our tour of the Temple of Heaven, was walked to the top of the Round Altar, upon which there is a heart center. It is said that if you stand at that heart center and make a wish, it will come true. And when it does, you must travel back to that spot to pay tribute to the gods for bringing your dream to fruition. I think I made a wish. I’m not sure if it will come true.

After a short rest in our hotel so that we could change (it was New Year’s Eve after all), we were taken to our evening of duck and opera. The restaurant was inside a hotel and the opera theater was next door. A dozen groups of foreigners dotted the tables in the space, all of us either probably with the same tour company –Germans, French, English, Australians, Americans. Our dinner was brought out in courses, with some little snack-like treats to start. It wasn’t long after eating some of these fine treats that I began to experience the strangest of sensations. You see, my jaw suddenly felt like it was floating away. Not really locking up, but actually floating on air away from me, like if I didn’t keep it shut, my mouth would just waft away and I wouldn’t be able to eat anything at all. I didn’t have a headache, but my body in general felt this same kind of lightness. Perhaps an MSG allergy? After a few minutes, Jim said, well, um, I’ve heard of this happening to people who have been poisoned. And then they die. Which was definitely heartening, let me tell you. But I just rolled with it, didn’t panic. Stopped eating at that point to let my body settle. Had some of the duck wrapped in lettuce leaves and jajang sauce, but essentially just tried to keep a grip on my jaw until the feeling passed. And it did, but man, was that ever the strangest. Like I was really high. No explanation. Any medical experts out there care to comment?

Post-dinner was traditional Chinese opera. We watched the actors put on their elaborate make-up in the lobby with all the other tour groups, and then we headed to our seats. The seats turned out to be dinner theater-style seats right at a table about two tiers up from the stage. Pretty nice. We were served a lovely array of sweet treats and mandarin oranges and a funky dude in full traditional dress came out to pour hot water into our tea cups from a brass teapot with an extra-long spout. Very theatrical. Kind of kung fu-style water pouring. And then the show. Sparse sets, minimal dialogue, lots of movement and creation of experience on stage. I knew very little about the art, so it was pretty fascinating to watch. There were two plays – one about a traveler whose identity is mistaken and the other that was titled (get this): Monkey King Fights 18 Warriors. Yes. I’m serious. And he did. And the warriors were clowns and carnies. Like midgets, and strong men and guys on stilts and bearded ladies. Seriously. It was pretty hilarious. Kind of like a kung fu circus act. Great costuming, great makeup.

And then it was back to Houhai to find a spot to chill for a New Years’ celebration. We found a tiny little joint to duck into that was pretty chill and ambient. Unfortunately, I had some kind of bee in my bonnet that made me super itchy to get movin’ to the next spot. I’m not really sure what that bee is. It’s this urge that comes over me that insists that I have to get to the next place because it will be so much better than where I am right now. And try as I might, I can’t get that urge to subside or stand down, and sometimes it just takes over. And it did that night. So, instead of just getting up and taking a walk for a while or finding something to do in that space, I made it known that I wanted to leave. This shook Jim out of a zen space he had been in writing and drawing about his experience thus far. And as I continued to insist that we go, his mind got more and more twisted into frustration. And we left there with not so great a boding for what the rest of the evening had to offer.

We managed to find a bar to go to in a different spot, and rang in the New Year with some actual, real mint mojitos, something that we have *not* been able to find in Korea. We met an Australian couple and struck up a chat with them. Ended up in the bar across the street – the Azúcar Bar – where they had bullfighting and Almodóvar posters (seems español was a theme for me in China) and where we listened to about 100 different covers of Beatles songs and met a funny and very drunk Mongolian girl named Emma who spoke good and creative English. She and I had a very funny chat about boys and life and girlfriends. Somewhere around 3 am I was ready to go home. But it didn’t really play out the way I hoped it would. We ended up staying out much later, I ended up getting pretty frustrated with the situation as the Aussie guy was buggin’ and being kind of an ass to Jim, and eventually, I got myself into a point of no return with my frustration. It exploded in a not-so-fun fight on the way home which sadly didn’t end when we got to the hotel.

I had gotten myself stuck in that space where I can’t do anything right and I’m not really good enough and all that tired garbage that I tell myself when I feel out of control and confused and scared. And it took me a while – actually into the next day – to fully come out of it and find the heart of what had happened the night before and why I had reacted the way that I had. Of all the things I’ve learned in Asia, the most critical lesson for me has been to look deeply into my actions and reactions to find the heart of what is driving them and to take responsibility for what is truly mine, no matter how ugly it may seem. Only then can I get past all the surface anxiety and anger and frustration and see the fear and sadness and whatever else exists that pushes me into places like this. And only then can I actually find the true voice in my head, the one that is benevolent and kind and understanding and accepting and allow it to take the space of the voice that is nothing but judgment and accusation and guilt. There is, of course, much more to be said about all of that, but this isn’t quite the right space. Perhaps later.