Def still not on local time. Woke for the last time about 5:30, up to finish my first blog entry (too tired at night so far), then down to lovely buffet breakfast. Believe it or not, not doing Asian for breakfast. They don’t focus so much attention on that offering, so starting the day fortified with protein and yogurt to keep tummy healthy.
Met the group in the lobby at 8:30, hopped in the van, then let off not too far away at the lower southwest corner of Ti’ananmen square. Sooooo many tourists (Sunday and all Chinese). The line to get into Chairman Mao’s tomb lasts about 4 hours at this point, but waiting they were (and no, Yoda is not writing this). We walked north, learning about the various buildings lining the square – governmental hall where all foreign dignitaries are greeted, long video screens installed for the Olympics, various statuary dedicated to workers, the obelisk that was dedicated to fallen heroes (and the place where wreaths were removed by radicals that set off the riots and subsequent violent army reply) as well as, most importantly, the epicenter of the city.
Daisy, our guide, told us that this spot is the center of the center of the city, the dragon’s backbone; a place where Beijing families will come to let their children run on weekends and holidays. So many thoughts were going through my head at the time. Here is where history has been made and the world has watched. But, not to be too maudlin, history is made more by people than places, n’est-ce pas? I listen to Daisy often to glean what the Chinese people know and don’t know, see and don’t see. As an example, I tried to access youtube to see some live video of what’s going on with the Boulder flood, but of course, that site as well as wickipedia are blocked here in China.
We continue our trek north, and come upon the large portrait of the Chairman, which evidently is not only cleaned each morning at 3 am, but replaced every year, to keep him looking young and fresh. We cross the boulevard by going on the pedestrian underpass (and as always, have to put our bags through an x-ray machine just like at the airport) and enter the border of the Forbidden City. The first two courtyards are open to the public (as was the whole space until 1985, at which time they instituted admission charges. even now, the open courtyards get 50,000 visitors a day), and we continue on to the inner sanctum.
I love the guys in the last picture – on the corners of most of the rooftops. Especially the first one: dude riding a rooster!
The layout reminds me so much of a palace area the kids and I visited in Vietnam, on a larger scale at first, and then the smaller version that was built as a retirement home by the only Emperor to retire (and he did so to maintain his grandfather’s record of being the longest-serving Emperor at 61 years). Jewels and beautiful jade carvings were sparse and on the very large side because Chiang-kai-shek skeedaddled with all the items from the treasure his and his army could carry – literally – and so mostly large items were left behind.
We’ve walked a bit over two miles, but the “museum walking” manner of the tour has left my body unexpectedly wrung out. Luckily, we hop in the van and are driven to Quianhai lake are in town, with lots of activity, paddle-boats going all over the water, and people out for a beautiful Sunday afternoon. We wander a bit and then head into a restaurant, take a seat near open windows, and Daisy orders for us. Menus are consistently gorgeous publications, about 2 feet by 15 inches, full color pictures and lengthy descriptions for each dish. Coffee table book quality and they do the job! This is our best meal by far, and we enjoy shredded, spicy beef:
baby mushroom caps and baby bok choy:
spicy (soft) tofu:
and shrimp balls (chopped and formed, dipped in egg and something and fried – and served piping hot from the oil, let me tell you!):
We sampled local beer, of course, and sipped yummy jasmine tea. Mmmmm, this was what I was waiting for!
Why don’t the Chinese have siesta? I am in a food coma for sure, although was so empty after the morning of walking. We wander through the hutong (ancient narrow streets, or alleyways filled with little shops and tea houses) and then meet up with a local guide who shows us by pairs into rickshaws/pedi-cabs for a ride through the residential alleyways.
He explains how areas that used to house one family now may hold up to 14, you can tell how many families live in a particular area by the number of electric boxes. We also learn that no one owns property anymore, in 2001, the government started offering 70 year leases on property. These facts and more are shared as we have a bit of tea in the living area of a family of middle-income status, a rarity in the country we are told. As you can see from these few pictures, their idea of middle class is so different from ours. The most stunning fact is that somehow this property, which has been in the family for 5 generations is actually a rare exception in that the family owns this property. Daisy tells us that they must have a friend or relative in the government for such a thing, but she won’t ask because it is a very rude question. As an aside, in the center of the table sits a jar filled with snakes and very strong alcohol. Men drink this as a way to prevent/treat arthritis:
Back into rickshaw and we stop in a market for locals. It’s pretty empty, because most people shop on their way home from work (don’t own large refrigerators, so shop daily). So much the better for us to ooh and aah over spices, weird pickled foods and glass noodles:
Back in the seat, heading back to the van, and wait! What’s that?
Back into the pedicabs, we retrace our route and are dropped off back between the bell and drum towers, ancient markers of time within the old city, back in the day when Beijing was small enough that everyone could hear their tones. Beijing only became the capital about 1,000 years ago, when the Manchu were ruling: “Bei” means northern and “jing” means capital (as Nanjing was once the “southern capital”).
We walk back to our van, and are then transported back to the hotel, where I collapse on the bed. I drop in and out of sleep, rise to shower and head down for dinner. Hungry? I don’t think so, but tonight is Peking Duck night and I am curious to see if their duck is as good as that I’ve eaten at the place out in northern Virginia I’ve been to with my family. Stacey, Betsy, Lee and mom, you can rest easy – it’s NOT! But I enjoy the yummy eggplant, watch the master chef carving the duck,
enjoy all the interesting sites in the open kitchen, and fight getting slippery glass noodles and shrimp balls out of the serving plate onto mine. After dinner, we walk along the main avenue of “ghost town”, so called because most Beijing (the Mandarin spelling, as opposed to “Peking” which is the Cantonese spelling) restaurants close at about 10 pm, and here you can come and eat after partying until 3 or 4 in the morning. No surprise that there are young people crowded everywhere, hawkers with remote microphones on their heads calling people into their spaces, red lanterns glittering brightly from lines covering every inch of the sidewalks, and the buzz of energy from people moving and grooving.
Back in the van and we are whisked to the hotel for rest before another busy day. A 2 hour drive and we’ll be hiking the ups and downs of the Great Wall!