We got to the first couples’ hotel, the
Marco Polo , and went in to use the facilities. The hotel was immaculate. “Great! Our hotel’s probably like this, too!” We made
our way to our humble abode, the
Beijing Rainbow Hotel . It was noticeably older but inside was lined with marble with long chandeliers dangling from the vaulted ceiling. At first glace, it wasn’t bad. Looking a little closer, one could see cracks in the marble and areas were water had leaked in. We made the ascent to our room. The hallway smelled of stale cigarette smoke, dark green carpet, and pale yellow walls. We went inside our room to find much of the same. I would venture to say it hadn’t been painted since its first coat in ’71. The washroom was unclean and the mildewed shower was not at all inviting. We did have a view though and the bedding seemed fresh.
We unpacked our bags and went out to explore. An old woman who ran a fruit
stand across the street from the hotel sent us in the direction of Tiananmen Square. We made our way toward where the woman had pointed and looked about. The stained sidewalks were covered with dust. The sun was out and the air was cold. Old men were sitting outside shabby apartment buildings, playing serious card games, apparently gambling for something or other. I was stunned at how dirty things were. It was if the sidewalks were set against a dirt road an had never been hosed down.
We made it to the main street and were amazed by the traffic in the streets.
There bicycles, pedetrians, cars, motorbikes, busses, and trucks, interwoven
with people and horns. I was surprised to see what looked like brothel,
and may have very well been- women in scant clothing, positioned in storefront windows, shared with neon lights. There were lots of restaurants and other shops lining the streets. We decided to take a stroll down an alley off the beaten path, behind the stores, into where people lived.
Behind the restaurants, in small, filthy cages, chickens awaited their fate.
The houses consisted of brick buildings, resembling brick garden sheds. I’m not sure if they had running water but there were electrical lines going into them. A few jalopies were parked here and there. The next street we came upon was lined with outdoor markets, packed with people. Food vendors offered their fare, which we politely declined. There were tons of counterfeit retailers, and other shops. At the end of the market was a very wide street, swarming with taxis and busses speeding down the street with no regard for the poor souls trying to get to the other side. We were offered a ride in a covered motorcycle taxi but we decided to risk running across the road like a pair amphibians on
Frogger .
We preceded past the
KFC and
golden arches , ISO a decent place to eat a non fast food, non pork filled meal. I had the name of a veggie place but it wasn’t easy to find (like a fool, I left a complete set of listings on my desk at home). We found an internet café without a printer. The building it was in was huge and also housed several electronic/cell phone businesses, and one restaurant- all practically empty. I found the address of a café I had printed out in Japan, jotted it down on a scrap of napkin and set out for our quest.
After walking up and down the road we were initially on, Tsuchan’s stomach began to rumble and she settled for some treats at a nice little grab and go cake shop with a walk up window. There was also a nice looking place with sliced vegetables of all kinds on open display on the corner. We thought about giving it a shot but the fact that everything was out in the open, on a busy street, discouraged us. Thankfully, a young man, who could speak very good English, came out and helped us find what we were looking for. He hadn’t been
to the restaurant but he gave a shot at helping us out. After pacing up and down the street a little while longer, we found it! It became our solace for the rest of the trip. The restaurant was clean, the food well prepared, and the affordable (prices were much higher than we thought). After dinner, we found a great bakery with fantastic raisin bread and huge cakes. (Anyone who knows Tsugumi can imagine her delight!) I was happy to pick up some very good raisin bread. After that, we made our way back to the hotel, stopping off at the fruit stand on the way. Unknowingly, we stocked up on water and tasteless fruit, inflated by 300% over the going rate.
The next day, we set out for the sites that I had waited years to see; the tomb of the
Ming and the
Great Wall . These tours were provided (fee not included) in our travel package. The hotel offered tours also but we thought it best just to stick with our agency. Our hotel included a buffet breakfast. We entered the dining area, to see a huge crowd and tables overflowing with western style fare, most of which was beyond my pallet, a.k.a. Porkedy Pig’s Pork Delights. I found a few rolls and watered-down OJ. The next challenge was finding silverware… there was none to be found. Turns out, the hotel was missing a lot of things, as guests quickly began filling their bowls with bacon and eggs as well as using them for coffee. The huge, round tables were crammed with people who were meeting each other for the first time. Those of us who were less lucky found one of the chairs that lined the hall to sit down on. It was an absolute zoo.
After breakfast, our tour guide picked us up and we headed to see the tombs. Getting out of the city was an experience. We took some sort of oversized roundabout, used by trucks, taxis, bicycles, and busses, all passing one another, horns blaring, a few colliding. We made it out without a scratch! Once we got out to the countryside, things were fine. We passed by many tombs but
Ding Ling , the mausoleum of
Zhu Yijun (1563-1620) was the one we were taken to see (although I would have liked to have seen more). When we arrived and got our tickets, the first thing I noticed was that the place was teeming with soldiers. I was very uncomfortable.
It would be interesting to ask Americans of varying generations how they felt being around so many members of the so-called “People’s Liberation” Army (begging the question, “liberation from whom?”). Anyone my age or older grew up indoctrinated with
Cold War propaganda so I imagine younger people would have a very different response, as would those of my parents’ generation. Of course, anyone who knows anything of the brutality Chinese soldiers have committed against their own people (or the Tibetans) may feel unnerved by their presence. I asked our guide about the soldiers and he informed me that most were off duty. Apparently, they get free admission to historical sites if in uniform. I suppose it gives an exaggerated military presence to keep the people in line (or liberated from their oppressors).
We walked through the museum, displaying various wardrobe items warn by the royals and concubines, including a few sets of miniature slippers worn by women to cover their tiny
bound feetthat once hid the twisted and mutilated bones, decaying inside them(perhaps they were
one of the groups liberated by the
Cultural Revolution as
Chairman Mao prohibited this practice). Among other artifacts were intricately designed vases, plates, and vanities. Aside from the age of the articles, the exhibit was fairly limited. The 500 year-old structures erected on the grounds of the mausoleum were much more impressive.
Interestingly, Emperor Zhu Yijun was widely despised by those he ruled over- perhaps the reason for the end of the
Ming Dynasty (1368-1644). He is remembered for his lavish spending, high taxes, and corrupt government. This could also explain why his tomb is the only one of the 13 that has been excavated. In 1956, the Chinese government ordered the opening of his tomb.
Located 27 meters (around 80 feet) below the surface, finding a door wasn’t an easy task. When the entry finally was cleared, they discovered untold treasures of the dynasty, all perfectly preserved. Even the giant oil lamps that were to burn for an eternity remained full due to a lack of oxygen after the tomb was sealed. All that currently remains are replicas of the coffins and a few statues (the rest is probably inside the governing office of the proletariat- or the national museum, perhaps). The tomb was very crowded and due to the lack of artifacts, difficult to fully appreciate.
When we got back to the van and drove down the road, I could see part of the reason for the amount of dust in the air. In the name of “progress” the Chinese government has drained several lakes and rivers in the area. In addition to the yellow sands that blow across northern China this time of year, the alkaline lining the riverbeds has worsened the problem. There were televised announcements, warning the elderly and people with respiratory problems to remain indoors. We both wore our glasses to prevent the sand from going into our eyes. On a larger scale, thanks to rapid industrialization without regard to the
environment (largely fueled by US corporations who want to avoid pollution regulations, not to mention the demand for cheap products, rapidly eating away at the American economy leading to our own demise), the pollutants in the air are making their way to North America, destroying decades of
air pollution reduction efforts by raising them to pre-cleanup levels.
Our next stop was a visit to the
Great Wall , built by the Ming as an effort to fortify the northern boarder against a Mongol invasion, who they had
overthrown. (Although its construction ended with the Ming, former structures are dated as far back as the 3rd century BCE). Our guide gave us an hour, which I was grossly disappointed by- I could have easily spent the entire day there. We had a choice between taking the men’s route or the women’s route; we chose the men’s (misogynously named for the route less traveled, hence, more difficult). It was an amazing feeling to walk upon the oldest human-built structure able to be viewed from the moon with the naked eye. Catching first glance at it was breathtaking- the way it rests along the peaks of the mountains, following each and every twist and bend as though Allah, the Creator and Sustainer, had created it there. Up on top of the mountain ranges, it was very cold. The wall is riddled with steps that I overheard described as “being more like ladders.” I tried to imagine the agony of those who built it had to endure: cold, heavy, chiseled stone bricks, of no uniform size, stacked and mortared a couple of stories high and wide enough to allow artillery trailers to be transported upon. There were several watchtowers erected from which we could look out for miles.
It took us about a half an hour to reach the end. “The end?”
I thought.What took me by surprise was that beyond the section that we had been walking on, lay
the crumbling and dilapidated remnants of the strongest military barrier ever known. I later learned that much of the wall is in similar condition. In some communities, the peasants dismantled the stones to build their homes. In other places, it has fallen victim to the gradual geological shifting of the mountains. Approximately 30% of the wall remains intact. When we made our way down, I came across a sign honoring the “Islamic Republic of Pakistan” (quite a misnomer in my opinion, as are most such designations) for its “friendly donation… as a token of eternal friendship” between two oppressive regimes- how fitting.
That evening, we went back to our hotel, showered, and bundled up to wander the area and find something to eat. The winds were absolutely frigid. What I really had hoped to find was the Muslim quarter. In China, pork is a staple food and not being able to speak the language or read the menu, I was very concerned at what someone was going to set in from of me. I had read that there were a number of restaurants that catered to
halal diets but we walked for a long time before finding one. It served primarily Uyghur cuisine (Uyghurs are one of the many ethic groups of China, overwhelmingly Muslim). Our server was a sweet old woman with an endless smile, Allah Bless her. We ordered rice, salad, fish, and naan. It was an interesting experience, to say the least. The rice and salad was okay, and the naan was in the shape of a large pita and quite good. We also tried to order something to drink. What we got was a salted milk drink which I made a futile attempt at drinking (I prefer my lassi sweet, I guess).
When the fish came, I had felt myself taking a deep breath to relax- not so did Tsugumi, who looked like she was going to jump out of her skin. It was a big fish, deep fried whole, with an orange colored glaze poured over the top. I slowly poked away through the fried shell with the end of my chopsticks only to find a maze of tiny bones. I have no idea what kind of fish it was but when I removed a portion of flesh, Tsugumi noticed a small quiver and because it was fried without the fins removed, she also thought it had an arm; she let out a small yelp. I really had no idea how we could eat this fish, even if we had wanted to. We decided to go back to the rice, that is, until we found a long, black hair slithering between the grains. We sat dumfounded, not wanting to waste the food we had ordered (something I never do if at all possible) or to appear rude. We were very hungry and ordered a few more naan before leaving. We tried asking our server where we could find the mosque but without success.
We made our way back to a halal market we had passed on the way but it was nearly closed and I think we may have left with some dried fruit or something. On our way out, we ran into the people from the Marco Polo who we had gone to the Great Wall earlier. Tsugumi and them exchanged stories and we continued on our way. Near our hotel was a small ma and pa record shop. I noticed a copy of
Rebirth of a Nation in the window and decided to check it out. The shop had books, DVDs, and a modest collection of Chinese and international selections- all very cheap. I picked up three CDs for under $10. They looked legit and were clearly factory pressed with Chinese labels and translations. A few were pressed on gold discs. It wasn’t until I got home and attempted to watch the DVD on the
Devils and Dust , DualDisc I picked up. The copy I had lacked this feature, despite it indicating otherwise. Live and learn. Aside from that, there is no problem with the audio. A friend of ours taught in China and used to pick up DVDs in Thailand. He said he’d seen a few that had been filmed with a camcorder inside a movie theatre.
We reached our third and final day in Beijing. We set out early to see Tiananmen Square and the
Forbidden City . To save time, we grabbed a taxi. The cabby got us there quickly, we paid our fare and he directed us where to go. The day was cold and windy but the sun came out every so often. When we got to the square, we could see Mao’s mausoleum. I later leaned that the building has been vandalized on a few occasions and at one point, it was reported that there were attempts to dynamite it (of course, coming from the government, any report has to be taken with a grain of salt- likely a political set up). It’s quite a vast open space, beneath the gaze of the cameras. I kept remembering the footage aired on Good Morning America from 1989 when I was a kid at the breakfast table. Watching the tanks roll in and the “Liberation” Army unloading on the protestors left a deep impression on me as a teenager. Walking on the same brick that had been stained with the blood of people marching for freedom 17 years prior, I silently wondered how many others were thinking the same thing. It didn’t help that we’d seen
Red Corner a few weeks earlier.
We then went through the underpass to the other side to the gate of the Forbidden City. Above hung the infamous painting of Chairman Mao in his usual calm and determined military posture. We entered through the first gate only to find we were still outside the main portion of the city. Who would have thought, in the heart of the most powerful communist regime on the planet, they would charge us an entry fee? Actually, I expected to have to purchase entry passes but for a moment I thought we were getting in free since we were not charged at the first gate. We passed on the optional virtual guide headset though, in hindsight, it would have been nice to have. The Forbidden City is a huge
complex that takes several hours (if not days) to fully appreciate- knowing exactly what each exhibit was would have been worth the price of a virtual tour guide.
Each section of the city has its own entry gate. Once we passed though the paid entrance, I was in awe at the square that lay before us. I recalled scenes from
The Last Emperor as we made our way down the steps, onto the ancient grounds where centuries of royal families had been brought up. Originally constructed under the leadership of the
Yuan Dynasty(1271-1368) the Ming had the grounds raised and rebuilt.
A considerable amount of reconstruction was taking place in preparation for the 2008 Olympic Games. I had been under the impression that the grounds had been meticulously maintained throughout the reign of the Ming but upon viewing the pictures on display, dated around in the first few years of the twentieth century, I found that they had been nearly completely overgrown. The actual state of things was in some way disappointing- at the time of our visit, about half of the main squares had been redone in an extraordinary manner, stunning, really. What was disappointing was not the elaborate renewal but a combination of either having allowed them to become so weathered to begin with or that visitors in the future might be mislead to believe they had been so well preserved. Ultimately, however, I felt very fortunate to be there.
The day we decided to visit the Forbidden City was the coldest of our journey. The winds sent a deep chill through us both. It didn’t help matters for Tsugumi that I was obsessed with viewing every inch of what was open to view, leaving her to drag me along at times. As much as I was enjoying myself, the one thing that I could not get over was the frigid wind seizing my body at every step. What I wouldn’t have done for something warm to drink- a ginger amasake would have been the perfect remedy.
Knowing that this was something unique to Japan, I wasn’t expecting one, nor did we come across any. What we did stumble upon was both a blessing and curse. Of all the places its tentacles could reach, I would have thought the Forbidden City would have been absolutely off limits- but there it was, crammed into an empty space of the original structure, next to a small gift shop was something that would have made both the Last Emperor and Chairman Mao turn in their graves: a Starbucks. The heat was radiating from the doorway, along with the smell of hot coffee. Resist? What, capitalism at its worst in the heart of Red China? Not hardly- we succumbed to our materialist vices and squeezed though the entryway to where we could warm or frozen toes. While the baristas, sporting American nametags like “Bob” and “Bill” were polite enough, don’t expect the same from the folks behind the counter at the adjoining gift shop. I purchased a tie baring the signature of an emperor- a nice novelty that I could wear to class and talk about with my students. Making an effort to be overly courteous to the clerk, using what little Mandarin I knew during the transaction didn’t seem to matter- she tossed my change on the counter and looked the other way. I’m not sure if it was because I’m American or that’s just they way some people are in China, but I didn’t expect it- nor was it the last time it was happen. I gathered my change and set out in the cold again to explore the rest of the city.
The layout is somewhat of a maze, really. After a
series of main squares, we came into the royal quarters. They had been ar- ranged to reflect the lifestyle of the emperor’s family and concubines, all behind glass and blan-keted in a layer of dust. There were many chambers that we went into, some with clothing and the like on display. The ceilings were inttri-cately designed, many of them peeling. We noticed that each section had several large bronze vessels- 308 total. Although they were empty, at one time they were filled with water to be used in the event of a fire. A lot of the chambers in this area of the palace were in poor condition, i.e., neglected grounds, dusty exhibits, many of which were not labeled. Many of the rooms were cluttered and held nothing of any historic value, others had their windows blocked and contained broken tiles, brooms and ladders.
When we finally reached the northern end of the city, we came into the emperor’s private imperial gardens. This was place highly regarded by the royals as a place of solitude. Interestingly, the gazebos featured golden dragons carved into the ceiling that were said to sweep down and devour anyone who didn’t belong in them. There were also a few ponds in which coy could been seen swimming beneath the murky waters, along with trash left behind by inconsiderate tourists. Each corner of the garden featured a pavilion, each representing a different season. Although the intent of the garden was to appreciate the natural environment, at the far end sits an artificial hill of stone with a cave, resembling a huge meteor from which the emperors enjoyed the view with their loved ones. Also in the garden was a library where the, beginning at one time an emperor took lessons in English language by an instructor from Britain- undoubtedly the only foreigner allowed inside the sacred grounds.
On our return to the main entrance, we took a slightly different path, this one having been completely renovated. There were a variety of displays mostly relating to Chinese culture as opposed to strictly the royal household. These
areas were constantly being swept to keep the exhibits clean but with little success due to the dust being carried to and fro. I imagine that by the time the Olympics come around, the entire complex will have been updated and undoubtedly be stunning, with fresh blood red walls and elaborately painted Chinese patterns to match the originals. When we were visiting, even the steps with their beautiful dragon patterns were being reset, as were the bricks- perhaps the most painfully slow and difficult undertakings. The masons who
were responsible for this job chiseled away at the bricks, some using picks, all with out gloves or eye protection. Anyone who’s handled cold steel and rock without gloves in the blistering wind can attest to the numbness these men surely felt as they worked out in the cold for hours on end- it would be interesting to learn if they were paid for their services or if they shared the same fate as the political prisoners sent to die mining asbestos.
We left in time to wander the old neighborhood on the periphery of the Forbidden City- a area that is drastically being reduced in preparation for the foreign onlookers who come to see the Games.
In fact, there have been several reports of people being served 24 hour eviction notices to make way for “progress.” Unfortunately, not everyone has the resources to get up and relocate on demand. Many of those who find themselves in these situations are awoke at four o’clock in the morning by bulldozers at their doorstep. In China, all property is owned by the state and while a person may technically own the land on which they build their home, the land beneath it can be confiscated at any time.) Most of these people are living in extreme poverty with blue tarps on their rooftops, held down with rocks and tires to keep the rain out. The government has also been cracking down on democracy activists who may bring unwanted attention to the people visiting Beijing in 2008. The rate of state-ordered
execution has risen in preparation for members of the free world coming to tour the “New China.” Some people have attributed these crimes to lack of a capitalistic economy but from the way I see it, capitalism combined with totalitarianism is primarily what is fueling this situation.
Anyway, as we walked down the broken sidewalks and through the narrow streets, dodging cars and bikes alike, in search of a café Tsuchan had read about, we came across several townsfolk who greeted us with friendly smiles. The sun was out and the winds had calmed, leaving us refreshed. We never were too sure whether or not we
had found the place we were looking for. We entered one small housing complex that may have been the hard-to-find restaurant but the only clue was what looked to be the kitchen of a small café with a dead, skinned chicken hanging upside down in the corner (not a place that I’d like to eat in after all). After giving up our search, we stopped at a small, western-style bakery and bought a few cookies. Tsuchan’s belly was rumbling at this point and demanded to be fed. Not knowing exactly where the Muslim quarter was at this point, we headed back to Gongdelin for another Chinese veggie meal that couldn’t be beat.
The first taxi we hailed was driven by a young man that we learned was likely one of the many young people who moved to the city in hope of finding more opportunity. (As seen here, homes on the countryside display the disparancy of the proletariat). He drove us about a block before giving up on us and asking us to disembark. He was very polite about it and said he simply could not communicate with us- in so many words. The next cabbie was older and got us to where we wanted to go.
After dinner, we finally found someone who knew how to take us to the Muslim district (he also explained why the young cabbie had reached his wit’s end earlier). As we made our way there, I noticed an Islamic school- which I was very surprised to see and wondered how much influence the state wielded over its curriculum (many of the Christian churches are highly regulated and parishioners of all faiths are required to register with the government to attend services and even to pray inside their own homes). The taxi let us off in front of a huge
Muslim shopping complex which took up both sides of the street. The complex housed restaurants, grocers, tea shops, and other retail spaces. It was nearing Maghrib and we asked one of the women working at a café to direct us to the
Niujie Mosque . Tsugumi had pointed it our earlier but I didn’t think she was right because it didn’t at all resemble traditional Islamic architecture. The grounds of the mosque also held a community center and a host of other buildings, including the tombs of some of the founders of the early community. The initial structure was built more than 1000 years ago, in 996 CE. The only thing that gave an Islamic impression was the Arabic calligraphy interwoven with Chinese designs. The interior of the mosque was very spacious and had been expanded a number of times. The Brothers I met spoke very little English but were very kind and accommodating. Apparently Muhammad Ali once made salaat there, too, while visiting Beijing. I heard one Brother making his Sunnah prayers in Chinese, which was interesting because typically Qur’an is always recited in its original Arabic. One of the beauties of Islam happens to be that regardless of where you may find yourself in the world, in any mosque, the ithan, or call to prayer, and the prayer that follows, is always comforting to hear as it unites people from all walks of life even if it’s the only thing we share in common. The diversity within the Islamic world is unlike any other.
After making my Sunnah prayers and wishing the Brothers and Sisters my salaams, we went back to the retail space where we had arrived earlier. Unfortunately, we both had our fill at Gongdelin and couldn’t justify eating for no other reason than just to eat- indeed to do so would be haram or forbidden for reasons of excess. There was a great deli with every kind of food imaginable and unlike our first restaurant experience, these places were very clean and we would have had no difficulty ordering. We toured the market and bought a few random things like dried fruit and various juices. By this time we only had time to go into one more shop. There was a quaint tea shop with high quality teas and traditional tea sets- all reasonably priced. I spent a very long time trying to decide between a set decorated with Arabic calligraphy or one with a Chinese design. Ultimately, I choose the Chinese, in part, because I was in China and may never return, and also due to the gold used on the others- discouraged in Islamic circles because the vanity associated with the use of golden utensils.
I was very sad to have not found this part of Beijing earlier in our trip. I had never been to such a well organized, minority Muslim community before. It was both pleasing and inspiring to see a small Muslim community have a proper organization that was not only adequate for the needs of its own, but welcoming to others as well. I pray that Muslim minorities elsewhere can be guided in the same direction.
On the way back to the hotel, we had the taxi driver dropped us off a little before the Beijing Rainbow. We took one last visit to the record shop we had patronized the day before and stocked up on several more titles. We came to find out that the same owners had a tea shop next door. We spent a while in there, too, and left with some great tea and some Chinese tea cups to accompany the teapot I had purchased at the Islamic marketplace earlier in the evening. We went back to our hotel and got a good night’s sleep.
The next morning we rose to a sunny day and decided to venture out one more time for the final hours before our shuttle was scheduled to pick us up. This time around, we were familiar enough to find a few halal cafes and a local market that would have been great to have known about when we arrived. We took one last walk through the neighborhood, though an area populated by people who had clearly missed the economic boom underway in China and wondered why it was that the basic tenant of communism- that of communal sharing and wealth distribution was not filtering down to the have-nots. I guess that’s the way of state-run systems- whether capitalist or communist, as long as the state is in control (in this case, absolutely) power remains to be exclusive club handed out to the masses only as they see fit. While I'm hardly educated about modern China, I wouldn’t be surprised to see a revolution “from above” unfold in China, much in the same as occurred in Soviet Russia. Whatever the future brings for China, I feel very fortunate to have seen it when I did. Who knows what the next decade will have in store for China and the World as a whole.
I remember hearing a segment on NPR about these giant, noise making insects that crawl out of the ground every year in the DC area. Having never traveled to east during the summer, I was completely unaware that such creatures existed. Listening to people share their experiences on the radio program just was incapable of transmitting the intensity of these prehistoric buzzers− unless, that is, I had been prompted to turn the volume up to distortion.
That’s actually what I thought it was. Others unfamiliar with the sound of these insects, imagined it was the power lines. All you can hear is a loud buzzing sound. I finally spotted one of these guys in a tree. It was GARGANTUAN! I’m only guessing here, but I’ve theorized the name semi has been applied to them die to the sound they produce. If one says semi-semi-semi-semi-semi really quickly, I swear it matches up perfectly (my wife thinks I’m nuts, however… ♪semi-semi-semi-semi-semi…♫).
