Posts from the Road…
April 4, 2001 – Beijing, China
Sort of a mixed day. Started out with an itinerary swap, so we will be hitting the Great Wall tomorrow. So we spent the morning getting the “Presidential” tour of Beijing: rushed between important places via a waiting car with tinted windows, entered without queuing, ate without seeing a bill, and, due to the dust and other factors, were in a haze for most of it. Sadly, no motorcade.
I was so disappointed in our tours of the Temple of Heaven and the Forbidden City that I spent some time mentally drafting a letter of concern. It was not a personality problem with our guide; we were just not getting what we wanted out of what we were seeing. While things were better in the afternoon, we are still planning a return trip to the Forbidden City on Friday to see if the Roger Moore-narrated audio tour has more insight. I had a chat with our guide this evening, so I think we are better in line with each others expectations.
Some of my concerns arise from an incorrect estimation about how tired we would be when we arrived from Russia and how difficult it would be to navigate Beijing. While we are tired, Beijing has not been difficult to get around, even for those of us who do not speak a word of Chinese. People have been friendly. With a bit of resourcefulness, we even managed a great dinner on our own from a restaurant menu written only in Chinese. It wasn’t pretty, but it got the job done.
Seismologists should be on alert around the time of the announcement of the Host City for the 2008 Olympics. I cannot imagine the potential global impact of over 1 billion people jumping in excitement. Tidal waves, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions…
Back to the Great Wall tomorrow.
April 4, 2001 (Day 28): Beijing – 11pm
Morale: OK. It was kind of a mixed day.
Health: good, although I ate too much at dinner.
The day began with a bit of an itinerary swap. Instead of heading to the Great Wall, we got the George W. Bush tour of Beijing: rushed around to important places via a dark car with tinted windows, entered sites without queuing, ate meals without seeing a bill, and was in a haze for the most of it. Our haze was due to dust and exhaust.
I was very disappointed in our tours of the Temple of Heaven and the Forbidden City, so much so that I spent time mentally composing a letter to the CITS office expressing my concerns. The morning was spent chasing our guide, Vinh, through these two UNESCO World Heritage sites, gaining no more information or insight than what we would get by reading the posted signs. He was probably up ahead eavesdropping on other tour groups trying to figure out what he would tell us about a particular item or location. Perhaps he thought we were trying to lose him (the thought had crossed my mind). I found myself in the curious position of actually wishing I were part of one of the flag-following, nametag-wearing tour groups that constantly surrounded us. They seemed to be learning more than we were. The group I really wanted to tag-along with was an Asian-American gentleman and his two young children. He was telling them stories about the handles with the heads of lions and the significance of the number of golden studs on the doors.
My favorite memory of the Temple of Heaven was the number of people who were gathered in the covered walkways adjacent to the gardens to practice their ballroom dancing. They were quite good. Also gathered along this corridor were people were sitting on the railing playing cards or dominos. Some were there singing – rehearsing for the Beijing Opera, we were told – accompanied by others practicing their musical instruments.
Loudspeakers blared music across Tiananmen Square as we hastened towards the familiar portrait of Mao above the entry into the Forbidden City. Vinh told us the lyrics were about how Communism and the Communist Party were good for China and how, working together, they would help China grow. Not much I can say about the Forbidden City except we will revisit it on our free day and rent the audio tour. While we waited for Vinh to get our Forbidden City admission tickets, a beggar woman came up to us seeking contributions. After we both declined, she intentionally knocked Anna off the step on which she was standing. Shocked, but no harm done. As the stunned look on Anna’s face gave way to laughter, I asked her if she wanted me to avenge her and rough up her assailant. Anna responded that she was OK and that my offer was unnecessary. Fair enough, I thought, make Vinh do it.
The visit to the Summer Palace this afternoon was a much better experience. We felt less rushed, Vinh seemed more interested in the surroundings, and the site was stunning. It was less a palace and more a retreat, full of gardens and pavilions built along a man-made lake. Its construction was commissioned by the Empress Dowager Cixi to replace the original that was destroyed by European troops during the Opium Wars. This site is supposedly quite popular in the summer with the residents of Beijing as an escape from the heat of the city.
Anything with a separate admission fee is not included in the tour. But we bought the supplemental ticket to climb to the Temple of the Fragrant Buddha for a birds-eye view of the entire grounds. The view – and the opportunity to ditch Vinh for a few minutes – was well worth the price. The temple is built atop a hill formed from the earth removed during the creation of the man-made lake. Having traveled enough with me, I suspected Anna knew that we would find our way to the top of this imposing mound. The haze gave the entire scene the feel of early morning, with mist heavy in the air. In my mind’s eye, this fog is omnipresent at all Chinese temples. Looking across the lake we could see the small island connected by the Seventeen Arch Bridge. Small ferries plied their way between our shore and the island.
After collecting our forlorn guide, we took a ferry across the lake. Adjacent to the dock was the infamous marble boat, a pavilion constructed in an interpretation of an American-style steam paddle-boat. The annual budget for the navy was spent building this boondoggle. No, it does not float.
Our guide really made me question the value of the tour we had purchased. I do not think we were the appropriate target audience. The tour provides the advantage of a car (i.e. four-door Audi with tinted windows), but we had found that Beijing by taxi was both simple and cheap. We were not learning much from our guide, there were still pushy tour groups to navigate, and had to spend a requisite amount of time in tourist shops dressed up as “museums”. This evening, I had a chat with Vinh about our expectations. I mentioned that we hoped to learn something at the places we went. Tell us stories, local history, something other than what we can read for ourselves on the signs. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. Considering the Great Wall is 70km outside of town, the car may seem like a nice luxury.
Part of the disappointment was that we already knew the answer to many of the questions our guide posed. He was visibly frustrated when he asked us if we knew which of the pair of carved lions was the male and which was the female and how to tell them apart. Pat, our tour guide at the Royal Palace in Bangkok many years ago, prepared us well. The lioness is the one with the cub under her paw; the male is the one clutching the beer and the remote control.
There are huge billboards marking the location of Olympic venues and which events will make use of the given site. Construction is underway, but the location for the 2008 Games has yet to be officially decided. Vinh asked if I thought that Beijing should get the Olympics. I pointed out that the International Olympic Committee, against its better judgement, does not seek my opinion.
On July 13, 2001, the International Olympic Committee awarded Beijing the 2008 Olympic Summer Games
Had an early dinner at a restaurant near to the school. The place was brightly lit and a steady stream of local clientele, generally a good sign. The staff were very kind and not without a sense of humor. Undaunted by our guide and phrase books, they promptly presented us with menus written completely in Chinese. Seeking to stall for a bit of time, I offered up the only Chinese I know, “beer”, accompanied by a hand gesture that means “two” in Europe and “eight” in China. Fortunately, they double-checked our order prior to presenting us eight giant bottles of beer. With a little bit of patience (and guide books) we managed to obtain a good meal without having to resort to sound effects, thus maintaining some degree of dignity.
Excerpts from Anna’s journal included.
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