The plane en route from San Francisco
to Beijing was crowded. After 13 wrenching hours of flight, a fellow
passenger stood up, looked in my direction, and shouted, “Welcome
to China!” A flight attendant announced over the loudspeaker that
visibility in Beijing was “Under one mile today,” with a hint of
irony in her voice. People poured out of the airliner as it was being
gutted to travel across the Pacific once more.
Our van from the airport careened down
a crazy, spinning Hutong alleyway. It was at this moment that I
determined that China must be called the Land of the Dragon because
of it's twisting roadways. Road Laws seem to be more Road Guidelines
in China. The “right of way” is decided by whoever has the guts
to pull into the intersection. Electric mopeds catapult across
sidewalks, down streets, and through walkways in herds, like startled
antelope with no where to run. Pedestrian traffic is left to take
it's life into it's own hands. If you can run fast enough, you can
cross the street.
Wangfujing is Beijing's central
shopping street. Grime covered buildings tower over streets caked
with dusty pollution. A soft haze lends an ethereal element to the
scene. While commercial centers, filled with designer Western
clothiers dominate, traditional family businesses still carry on as
they have for countless years. Wangfujing Cathedral stands as a black
sheep; something which neither belonged in Ancient China nor it's
confused identity crisis in which the nation currently rests. An
unfinished shopping mall advertises Dairy Queen ice cream and Forever
21 Clothing. The notorious Beijing Night Market lies only a few
blocks away.
The Temple of Heaven, one of the
landmark sights of China, shows a genius for acoustics. The little
details make this site truly amazing- it's design is more simplistic
than that of the Summer Palace or the Forbidden City; it's wonders
are subtle. On top of the “Circular Mound Alter” (Really? Of all
the names?) there is stone which lies in it's center. When standing
atop this stone, you can hear your voice come from all directions. In
the Hall of Echoes lie three pavement bricks, when standing on the
first brick you hear your voice once, on the second brick twice, etc.
The gold gilding remains as a shimmering reminder of China's wealth
and power.
Tienanmen Square. One of Communism's last outposts in the 21st Century world. Famous for it's
1989 Massacre and it's gargantuan portrait of the country's late
leader, Chairman Mao Zedong, Tienanmen Square is a testimony to a
national pride unheard of in the Western World. The deceased body of
Mao is on display in a glass casket, and the Monument to the People's
Heroes is still the dead center of Beijing. What many Westerners
mistake for a tribute to the Red State is really a place as
conflicted as the rest of the nation which it represents. The
Tienanmen Square Protests of '89 were actually preformed by orthodox
communists, who set themselves against the economic reforms of Deng
Xiaoping and his successors. The Square is eerie in it's very
presence. Red Guards and police vans still patrol the Square
regularly, as if to make sure that everyone remembered where exactly
they are. As an American who is not altogether the most patriotic
person, Tienanmen Square served as a truly fantastic reminder that
although our nation is far from perfect, we really do have something
to be grateful for.
Rising into the smog like a majestic
bird, the Hall of Supreme Harmony is one of the most awe-inspiring
sights that Man has ever created. The Forbidden City, with it's
elaborate gardens, soaring rooms, and incredibly attention to detail
cannot be described with the inadequate English language. “Beauty”
simply does not cover half of the awe of the Imperial Palace.
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| A monk outside the Summer Palace |
The only thing I found truly striking
in the Summer Palace was a large photograph, probably from the
mid-sixties, printed onto a display board. The English caption simply
read, “Pu-Yi and Mao Zedong.” The photograph featured two men
shaking hands. If I hadn't read up on the history of China's last
emperor, the picture wouldn't have appeared any different than any
other photo of Mao. There are lots of those. Pu-Yi was China's last
emperor. His story is one of the most understated tragedies of modern
times, and I'd highly encourage you to read a more detailed account.
Something about ending up as the gardener in the palace you grew up
in puts a perspective on how much control we have truly have over our
own lives.
Snaking along the hills outside of
Beijing's suburban areas is China's most iconic sight: The Great
Wall. It truly is amazing, and I wish I could've spent more time
climbing it. “He who has not mounted the Great Wall is not a true
man.” -Mao Zedong
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| The Hutong. The one with the yellow front was our hostel. |
Beijing's magic lies in it's
subtleties. Sure, there are the awe-inspiring sights of Ancient China
and modern innovation, but the true spirit of Peking is embodied
somewhere deep in an unpaved Hutong alleyway, where roast sticks of
tofu can be found for 1 Yuan, and people are sitting outside,
enjoying the evening over a cup of tea and a game of mahjong. One of
my favorite experiences in China occurred in the Hutong Hostel we
were staying in. To my knowledge we were the only guests staying in
the courtyard home, which had been converted into a hotel/hostel. The
staff was comprised of students who all lived together in the home
and managed the guest rooms. One evening, my mother and I were
invited to join them for a Dragon Boat Festival Party, as it was
Dragon Boat weekend, one of China's larger holidays. We were told to
return in an hour, so we went for a walk around the hutong where the
hotel was located and the surrounding alleys. Upon returning, we
found that the lobby had been decorated and that they had baked us
special lotus-wrapped dumplings that are only served during Dragon
Boat. They wanted us to play a game with them, and it turned out that
the game they had in mind was something similar to charades. We
played charades for nearly 2 hours. Our Chinese is terrible, and
their English was comparable, but we still had the time of our lives.
I have the feeling that those 2 hours that I spent in a hostel in a
little alleyway somewhere in the urban sprawl of Beijing playing
charades will stick with me for quite a while.
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| My mother and I with the staff of our hotel |
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