On the morning of the 17th I had arranged to meet up with Helen Hu, a friend of a friend from uni and an actual Beijing resident. I had many questions about Beijing and China that I was looking forward to asking her.
We were to meet at a subway station exit. On ascending the escalator I was admiring the pretty Chinese girls heading down when one of them turned to me and asked, "are you Stephen?". It was a reasonable assumption on her part. I waited for her return at the top then we set out exploring "Nanluoguxiang" (which I still can't say). Or rather she set about exploring it and I set about being shown around. The grey haze had lifted, the sun was out.
It was a independent boutique shopping alley type area, but this time selling papercrafts, calligraphy, "Chairman Meow" and "Reliable Youth" T-shirts (apparently worn by young men to signify that they're not a cheat or a womaniser), silks, jade and ice creams in the old houses. I bought a soft drink, not an exciting purchase admittedly but one I won't have to carry.
We moved away from the shops and passed through some of the older courtyards on our way to the tube.
We talked about colour. It transpired that a lot of Chinese women use whitening products to make their skin paler. I told her that many British women use browning products to make their skin darker. I don't know why so many women want to change the colour of their skin. It's both futile and pointless.
After the Hutongs we went to "798 art zone", so named because its located in a German and Soviet built factory, number 798. The art ranged from poor to quite good, the buildings themselves were the prime attraction for me. Some areas round the edges had not been converted to art galleries and still carried an aura of the past (Soviet) age. It reminded me of Portal 2 - a grand edifice built for ambitious enterprise at great cost, now half derelict, half playground. There's even some blue goo in the picture below.
I found a vintage Chinese radio on display, which I was quite pleased about (the factory used to make them). I'll spare you the picture of it.
I would like this space as an apartment:
I was getting sweaty and tired while Helen looked as neat and tidy as she did at the beginning of the day, so we agreed to call it a day. The subject of tomorrow had come up, along with the question of where else I might like to visit.
I still felt like I had not found "the centre" of Beijing so I suggested we meet at Beijing's main shopping street. A lot of Beijing I had seen up to that point was quite traditional and hotchpotch - old communities, back alleys, streets with people, shops, noodle bars and building sites distributed quite arbitrarily. I had a feeling that with the wealth of China there would be something like a "skyscraper district".
The next day I met Helen at the shiny shopping district. The sun was out again:
It was just like Singapore except not quite as many malls per mile.
I wanted to buy a ticket to Xi'an for the next day, available from any one of numerous ticket offices round the city, as well as at the railway stations themselves of course. I asked Helen if she could keep an eye out for one of these places. But in our current area it was all far too expensive for us to be likely to find a useful shop like this.
We happened to pass a hospital. I told Helen that healthcare was free in the UK. I think she was impressed, because you have to pay in "Socialist" China. However I asked how much an appointment with a doctor costs and she said 10 yuan (£1). Now either healthcare is heavily subsided or that's a poor doctor.
As for other country comparisons, I mentioned that American children pledge allegiance to their country every weekday morning. However Chinese children only do it every Monday morning. We Brits are ahead of course, only compelling our children to say the Lord's Prayer every weekday (at least that was the case for me).
Helen and I did a short walkabout of the glossy area I would have stayed in had I opted for a four star western style hotel room:
The above structures though impressive are quite generic, you can find them it any wealthy capital city somewhere or other I think. But for some reason I like to see them. It gives me a sense of global economic progress (epitomised in my mind by brand new imposing glass skyscrapers), where the visible manifestations of that progress can be found in a similar form in Sydney, New York, Beijing, Singapore or London.
After I had acquired the impression that I had found "the centre" by strolling past many shiny buildings we took ourselves to a park.
Leaves an entirely different impression, doesn't it? Like you don't need to go anywhere because everything is fine right here. We sat for a while, listening to a lady practice her scales in a small cave, sometimes badly. It was good to sit in one place for a while, not trying to find anything more. Besides, that day was my last day in Beijing and I had found the centre.
However the day was still young and it was time for lunch. Having left the park, Helen noticed a place across the road that looked to me like a small rundown shop. It was a "fast food" eating place, and in it we both had chilled white fungus and lotus seed soup, pork dumplings and greens (looked like bok choi) for a total of 32 yuan (£3.20). It tasted better than the meals I'd paid 100 yuan for on previous days.
But again we needed to decide where to go next. I picked out a large green space with a lake in the middle of it on my tourist map. It was in the centre of the city and so large that it could not fail to provide stunning views and good lakeside walking (at the very least an improvement on my solitary late night walk in company of fishermen).
We took the tube to a stop nearby the mapped expanse of green and blue. As we emerged from the tube I was once again being stared at. Helen commented that these interactions was like those with cats. They stare, I stare, and no one says a word. I asked why they stare and she replied, "Because you're handsome". I asked why the old men stare and she replied, "Because you're a foreigner". I am going to assume that the young women stare because I'm handsome and everybody else stares because I'm a foreigner.
We found the park to be protected by a high wall and began walking along the wall to find the entrance. We found one entrance, but it was guarded by soldiers and did not look like a park entrance. Occasionally an expensive black car drove in or out of the gate. We carried on walking.
We found many such entrances, all well guarded. Occasionally a patrol of soldiers or men in short sleeved white shirts and black trousers would enter or exit. I could glimpse the park beyond these compounds but of course could not enter. They need to update their tourist maps.
One very long and tiring walk along a featureless and high park wall with periodic guarded entrances we reached a corner. It was a beautiful corner. It led to the unguarded north park that has not been grabbed by senior Government officials for their luxury residences.
At the park I apologised to a now quite tired Helen for dragging her all that way and bought ice lollies. We sat again and contemplated blue and green.
Here I had an orange drink. It came in a glass bottle. At the seller's stall there was a row of empty orange drink bottles on the windowsill. I asked Helen if I must return the empty bottle. She said yes. I asked if there was a deposit on the bottle, or a restriction on where I may take it. She said no. Yet obviously many returned their glass bottles for reuse. They must simply trust their customers to do so.
We climbed the hill to the Buddhist temple, apparently created in a Mongolian style. I took a picture or two of the exterior. To my surprise, Helen admonished me. She said that I should not take pictures of Buddha (he adorned the exterior). Inside, she touched her head to the floor three times in front of Buddha then hurried out, leaving me alone to pursue the many other images of Buddha within. I decided to take no further pictures of the temple. Also, there was a no photography sign.
There was a statue of Buddha in his traditional seated pose but in an intimate embrace with a woman. It looked like a somewhat adventurous and serene sex position.
We descended from the temple. After a long day I was not looking forward to taking a trip across the city to the railway station to purchase my ticket. But just we reached the tube station where Helen was to head back home she said "you want to follow me" and crossed the road and entered a shabby non-descript store, marked only by two chinese characters. It was a ticket office. She talked at length with the agent and established that second class tickets were not available for the next morning but a first class ticket was available for 10:05 for 840 yuan (£84). I stood in silence until this conversation was complete then handed over my cash.
We walked to the nearby tube and parted. I was feeling very grateful for this tour and assistance. I returned to my hotel, lay down and tried not to fall asleep and tried not to imagine the next day, where Beijing would all be left behind and I would meet sixteen or so assorted travellers in Xi'an. That would take care of itself.
Stephen
These are really well written, really interesting and are making me very jealous indeed.
ReplyDeleteI cannot wait to read your next updates!
Enjoy :)