After some small rectangles of white bread, from which we removed the plastic-looking processed meats, we arrive…
The following day was spent mostly walking. We walked from the hotel in the direction of the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square. The heat is pretty hot and we pass a number of embassy compounds, people’s army guards carry empty water cooler bottles, the Vietnam Embassy, the Gabon, Bangladesh, Benin, the Thai embassy is probably the neatest, they seem to have a varying amount of potted pants outside along the pavement like the global economic difficulties has forced them all to operate as garden centres on the side.
On the way down the main road to Tiananmen we are accosted by an “art student” who wants to take us to see her “art exhibition”, it is conveniently on the way. Unwittingly we go, assuming the conversation means she is hoping to use the opportunity to practice her English…. so we learn that this is a very common scam to get people to buy pictures http://www.beijingtraveltips.com/sights/gallery_girls/gallery_girls.htm. We successfully decline and leave, although the pictures are mostly pretty nice, it is standard faux traditional fare, scrolls and oriental ink. I suppose the best way to learn a lesson.
When we arrive at the Forbidden City, through the side gate to the square in front, the crowds are ridiculous. Not being too patient we do not want to queue for the tickets and turn left toward Tiananmen. A slow walk and squeeze over through the gate, how are they able to sell ice-lollies from cardboard boxes in this heat? Over the bridge, we then turn and see Mao’s portrait and scan the extent of the square, but with the traffic and people and openness to the heat we walk along to a side street. We then walk with the intent of seeing some of the chain of lakes and parks, which flank the western side of the Forbidden City and reach further north. Up to near the entrance of Bai’hai Park we stop at a street stall for cold noodles, for lunch a pot of cold noodles and cucumber slices is added to with sauces of garlic, chilli, soy and nutty satay flavours. Pretty satisfying. We rest under the seating they have, above which heavy squashes squash the plastic roofing and a large one has bent a little gap to peep through.
We walk the park, which consists of a lake with a temple on an island and boating on the main part of the lake, the southern part of the lake next to the island is covered in lotus which are blooming at this time, some turned to seed-heads. The lotus-covered pond is a pretty common theme here and in the rest of Asia too. Things to note on the stroll are the men (and woman) with sponge brushes painting Hanzi in water on the path (one also painting portraits) these temporary illustrations seem to have more of an appeal for their impermanence. Further on is a series of four pergolas set out on the lake and linked by little bridges. In each of these there is a different musical turn. The first seems to be a more traditional ensemble. A row of men sits on the benches with instruments. From what I can make out a bowed string instrument which sits on the lap, a fiddle, a pipe instrument which comprises a cluster of pipes with holes at the bases to cover for different notes, a flute, another of the small stringed instrument and then a larger one which rests on the floor like a cello (I later learn that these are the Erhu or Zhonghu, a violin, a Sheng, a flute (could be one of a number of traditional Chinese flutes perhaps a Dizi), another Erhu/Zhonghu and a Gaohu). Opposite and adjacent to them is a row of women doing the singing; all these people are in their senior years. It looks like anyone can join in, simply depositing his or her handbag in the centre and joining the circle. The next pergola has a large man perfuming some operatic song karaoke style, the following one has a middle aged couple on amplified harmonicas, a guy on guitar and a couple of old ladies singing along. The final one is some sort of jive dancing, common gatherings can be witnessed where people waltz and glide to a tape player in any available space in the city.
After finishing the walk round the lake you reach the exit, and our intention is to walk to the shopping district at Xidan, this is what we do. And arriving there we are suddenly in the very developed world. The department stores and shopping centres are dizzying and it is easy to become disorientated with the number of floors and aisles and irregular layout, all the shops we know and surprisingly comparable prices considering the stuff is mostly made locally! One recommendation I won’t be giving is to have a green bean iced milk.
Following our shopping trip we head to the subway to get back to the hotel to meet with Martin. Subway travel reminds us of the lack of queuing practiced in China. Patiently waiting behind a woman at the ticket machine, who finishes her transaction and as we step forward a man darts in from the side to claim the spot at the machine. Oh well.
One topic covered in conversation with Martin about life in Beijing is the media censorship. Not initially apparent when you experience a life much like the bustle and media filled dizziness of Tokyo, but if you were to try and do a comprehensive Google search (we all know about the legal wrangling Google have been having with china) or to watch anything on YouTube. Furthermore, any criticism of the government is blocked. This reflects itself sometimes when you are happily watching TV. One example described is watching the film Syriana, at the line ‘What do you know about the torture methods used by the Chinese on the Falun Gong?’ the TV cuts out. Only to return to a bloodied George Cloony, so it can be inferred that they were not too good. So cut to our hotel room, try to watch TV, well this situation is a little different, The People’s Republic informs us that they have called a day of mourning for those lost in the mudslides this week. This includes a ban on entertainment activities, the channels have been blocked and all the CCTV channels show a rotating reel of news about memorial services and relief efforts in the area. The only cannel we can get aside from this is CNN. And it is cutting out about every 10 minutes, when things are back on Monday morning a news item, which launches into a very negative stance on the government is promptly cut and TV only resumes to ‘safe’ news. It’s nice to think that there is a man watching TV with a switch to turn off the national broadcasting whenever controversial material airs.
With not one word of Chinese apart from ‘nihau’ we look for some Chinese food, we try one of the chain, Xiabu Xiabu, and in what looks to be a foreigner heavy area we expect to encounter some understanding of English to ease our struggle. No chance. We did manage to order. Albeit mistakenly ending up with the blandest option. But it was a healthy clear soup with vegetables, tofu, and mushrooms.
There are westerners who exchange glances with fellow westerners; this is an awkward situation that we inflicted on some in the Xiabu Xiabu. It is a look, which tries, and fails, to illicit some conversation/moral support/rescue inferring the shared situation of being somewhere alien. It was unfair on us for them to not support as they had a Chinese friend who obviously helped them no end.
