After a week here, I think I have figured out what you need to fit in with the two types of Beijing elites (old school and new economy):
Old School
1) Chairman Mao horn-rimmed monster-sized eyeglasses--no matter what your age
2) A VW Passat (or for the poorer party member, a motorcycle with a little cab over the back seat; photos to follow when I get home).
3) One word: brylcreem
New Economy
1) Prada, Gucci, Marc Jacobs whatever--as long as it's designer
2) Audi or BMW
3) Cup of starbucks in your hand
I cannot tell you how much I am enjoying the Chairman Mao eyeglasses. It rocks. There is nothing like seeing a thirty year old man wearing these huge I-Wanna-Be-Jiang-Zhemin spectacles. I am considering bringing the look stateside. Who's with me?!!! Anyone? Anyone? Hellooo?
The young and rich Beijingers are another story. It's quite an epiphany for an American to look around The People's Republic of China, which has been Communist for decades, and think to yourself, "Man, I wish I could afford what she's wearing." I'm not kidding. Rich people here are RICH. Most of them young, most related to electronics and video game revenues. There are Chinese people who could buy and sell me, which I have to confess I did not expect in the least.
This state of constant surprise has been the overriding theme of my trip to Beijing: expect the unexpected, lose the preconceived notions, relinquish the control, embrace the city for what it is, and truly internalize what this country of more than a billion souls is achieving right before our eyes--and then take a deep breath and imagine what they could achieve if the full power of their intellectuals and artists and entrepreneurs and thinkers could be unleashed.
You don't need Chairman Mao glasses to see a superpower in the making.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
Sunday, March 06, 2005
Food Folks and Fun
As a certified foodie, I was excited and yet frightened by the prospect of eating in Beijing. As a germophobe, I was terror stricken at the prospect of using public toilets in China. As a Westerner, I am still feeling my way around human interactions so as not to create offense. So how have things gone so far?
FOOD
Two things stand out in my mind:
1) When the outdoor market food vendors see the caucasian walking by, they yell out to you the only 5 English words they know: "Come here! No meat! Good! No Meat!" Apparently, our fear of getting shigella precedes us...
2) Yes, those ARE huge grasshoppers roasting on a stick..and no, I have no intention of eating them. And, to be honest, there ain't many Chinese people taking them up on them either. But if you are a pork fan, Beijing is your city. No joke. It has to be the pork capital of the entire Asian continent. Remember those 6 dishes I inadvertently ordered yesterday? Every single one of them pork. NOT a city for vegetarians, kosher-keepers or halal-keepers. Even the veggies are cooked in pork fat. Fuggedaboudit.
BATHROOMS
Where to start? Public toilets on the street you should not use. I seriously considered wetting myself rather than go into a public loo on the street. Trust me. They are the holes with the feet locators--or toilets without seats. Either way, it's an uncomfortable squat from which you may physically but not psychologically recover. My recommendation? Bring Depends. I sure wish I had. Not that there's anything wrong with that...
I used a public loo in a chi-chi mall, hoping for something better. It was actually okay, except for the one, giant communal roll of toilet paper hanging on the wall. First, the hygiene of that I can't even discuss. Second, who knows how much TP you are going to need before heading to the stall? I couldn't even begin to estimate it. Luckily, I brought my very own trial size charmin roll that fits right in my backpack! Sweeeet! I also brought a pocket-sized pack of toilet seat covers that has served me well. Although, truth be told, I will seriously rent a cab to bring me back to the hotel to go to the bathroom and then cab back to where I was, rather than use a public toilet. It's just good, clean sense.
PEOPLE
Well, my Spreading Inadvertent Ill Will tour continues unabated. A nice man stopped and asked for advice on what lunch costs in London because he is being sent there for work and has no idea how much money to request from his bosses. I told him to request high, since London prices are straight-up robbery. (I didn't say that exactly, of course). He then wanted to chat about the US and how I like China, and was just the nicest man in the entire world except---except---that he was spitting big white saliva globules with every single word he said and I was about to start gagging because they were landing all over me. I am gagging even writing this. So I sort of maneuvered myself out of his firing line, and tried to avert my eyes from the saliva rocket launcher that was his mouth. I was DYING! He asked if I had had Beijing Duck yet, and I said no, so he invited me to a place across the street for a beer and some duck. Now, I have read and been told that Chinese people are incredibly hospitable and will invite you to their houses or out for tea or whatnot, and there is no danger in going with them; they are simply being what they consider to be good hosts. The only problem with this situation was, quite simply, that I was not going for "a beer and a duck" with any man I've met on a street, however well-intentioned he may seem. Nor was I going to be able to sit for another hour and a half getting pelted by his spit. I just did not have it in me to do it; I knew that eating would be out of the question since it would no doubt start landing on my plate. But recognizing the delicate balance between saying no and being mindful of the need for him to save face, I was racking my brain trying to think of anything to say that didn't sound like "Hell no!" So I said, "actually, I am here with a tour group, and I'm late for meeting up with them, but you are so kind to have offered. I am so sorry to not be able to join you." To that he began apologizing profusely for having kept me, for taking up my time, many apologies for taking up my time, followed by a swift exit down the street. And all I could think was, "nice one, E. Another Chinese person's day ruined!" Evil Empress Badaling strikes again.
On a good note, I learned a ton of stuff from my friend's friend who lives here in Beijing. She said that you should always leave some food on your plate because a clean plate tells your host that they did not feed you enough in the first place (ie, you had to lick your plate to get enough food). I also learned that rice is not eaten with the meal (unless its actually in the dish you are eating). It comes after the meal in little bowls, and eating it then signifies that you didn't enjoy the dinner you had. So--no clean plate club and no rice in China. I didn't see that one coming, either.
FOOD
Two things stand out in my mind:
1) When the outdoor market food vendors see the caucasian walking by, they yell out to you the only 5 English words they know: "Come here! No meat! Good! No Meat!" Apparently, our fear of getting shigella precedes us...
2) Yes, those ARE huge grasshoppers roasting on a stick..and no, I have no intention of eating them. And, to be honest, there ain't many Chinese people taking them up on them either. But if you are a pork fan, Beijing is your city. No joke. It has to be the pork capital of the entire Asian continent. Remember those 6 dishes I inadvertently ordered yesterday? Every single one of them pork. NOT a city for vegetarians, kosher-keepers or halal-keepers. Even the veggies are cooked in pork fat. Fuggedaboudit.
BATHROOMS
Where to start? Public toilets on the street you should not use. I seriously considered wetting myself rather than go into a public loo on the street. Trust me. They are the holes with the feet locators--or toilets without seats. Either way, it's an uncomfortable squat from which you may physically but not psychologically recover. My recommendation? Bring Depends. I sure wish I had. Not that there's anything wrong with that...
I used a public loo in a chi-chi mall, hoping for something better. It was actually okay, except for the one, giant communal roll of toilet paper hanging on the wall. First, the hygiene of that I can't even discuss. Second, who knows how much TP you are going to need before heading to the stall? I couldn't even begin to estimate it. Luckily, I brought my very own trial size charmin roll that fits right in my backpack! Sweeeet! I also brought a pocket-sized pack of toilet seat covers that has served me well. Although, truth be told, I will seriously rent a cab to bring me back to the hotel to go to the bathroom and then cab back to where I was, rather than use a public toilet. It's just good, clean sense.
PEOPLE
Well, my Spreading Inadvertent Ill Will tour continues unabated. A nice man stopped and asked for advice on what lunch costs in London because he is being sent there for work and has no idea how much money to request from his bosses. I told him to request high, since London prices are straight-up robbery. (I didn't say that exactly, of course). He then wanted to chat about the US and how I like China, and was just the nicest man in the entire world except---except---that he was spitting big white saliva globules with every single word he said and I was about to start gagging because they were landing all over me. I am gagging even writing this. So I sort of maneuvered myself out of his firing line, and tried to avert my eyes from the saliva rocket launcher that was his mouth. I was DYING! He asked if I had had Beijing Duck yet, and I said no, so he invited me to a place across the street for a beer and some duck. Now, I have read and been told that Chinese people are incredibly hospitable and will invite you to their houses or out for tea or whatnot, and there is no danger in going with them; they are simply being what they consider to be good hosts. The only problem with this situation was, quite simply, that I was not going for "a beer and a duck" with any man I've met on a street, however well-intentioned he may seem. Nor was I going to be able to sit for another hour and a half getting pelted by his spit. I just did not have it in me to do it; I knew that eating would be out of the question since it would no doubt start landing on my plate. But recognizing the delicate balance between saying no and being mindful of the need for him to save face, I was racking my brain trying to think of anything to say that didn't sound like "Hell no!" So I said, "actually, I am here with a tour group, and I'm late for meeting up with them, but you are so kind to have offered. I am so sorry to not be able to join you." To that he began apologizing profusely for having kept me, for taking up my time, many apologies for taking up my time, followed by a swift exit down the street. And all I could think was, "nice one, E. Another Chinese person's day ruined!" Evil Empress Badaling strikes again.
On a good note, I learned a ton of stuff from my friend's friend who lives here in Beijing. She said that you should always leave some food on your plate because a clean plate tells your host that they did not feed you enough in the first place (ie, you had to lick your plate to get enough food). I also learned that rice is not eaten with the meal (unless its actually in the dish you are eating). It comes after the meal in little bowls, and eating it then signifies that you didn't enjoy the dinner you had. So--no clean plate club and no rice in China. I didn't see that one coming, either.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
How to Win Friends and Influence People as only The Haggis Can Do
I have decided that every single human should, at least once in his or her life, spend some time in a place where s/he is “the other.” Where you don’t speak the language or understand the customs and you live with the constant knowledge that you could offend someone without meaning to, and have no means by which to explain yourself or your actions. It forces you to slow down, look around, and get in sync with the rhythms of your new surroundings—without (as I always do) trying to control the process or the outcomes or even your own feelings.
Yesterday found me in a restaurant mentioned in the Lonely Planet book on Beijing. No one there spoke English, the menu was entirely in Chinese, and all I had was my “Concise Guide to China” with helpful phrases such as, “Can you recommend something good?” and “I would like some noodles please.” Oh Man! What a scene! I ended up having ordered about 6 dishes without knowing it. They had brought a pot of tea but because I could touch the outside of the pot without flinching I did not drink it because I couldn’t be sure it was fully boiled, and therefore safe. So I ordered the only bottled thing on the menu: beer. Yeah baby! Nothin’ like a liter of beer at 11:30am! Nice. Started eating a dish that I only milliseconds later realized contained uncooked vegetables (a one-way ticket to a week-long ride on the porcelain bus) and panicked. So immediately drank a half liter of beer in the desperate hope that any potential bacteria would drown hard and fast like little microscopic drunkards. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to note that my “Beer as Cipro” plan worked beautifully. My gastrointestinal health is intact, and I will accept the Nobel Prize for Science as soon as I get home.
I bring up the restaurant not only to share my beer story, but to share that a) the entire meal cost about $8, and b) I obviously did something to offend the waitress that I still can’t figure out. All was well until I asked for the check. And then it went downhill. She seemed not so much mad as offended, but try as I might, I could not figure out all day yesterday what I might have done. I probably will never know, but I hate that the only American she has ever met will now be in her memory as a jerk of some kind. Then I bought some bottled water at a Quik Mart (yes they have quickie marts even in China---is no corner of the earth safe?!), and I did not realize that little bills with a “1” on them are not the same as the big bills with the “1” on them. The woman was sooo over me, as were all the people waiting behind me, as she was barking, “Yi! Yi!” at me (meaning “One! One!”) and I’m standing there looking like a shmo thinking, “I’ve given you a WAD of ones, lady! A veritable wad of ones!!” Only, I had given her the paper currency equivalent of 60 cents when what I needed was a dollar. So I gave her a 100 yuan note, which is, like, $12 but a huge bill to break here. So then she started checking it to see if it was counterfeit, she is pissed that I’m throwing big bills around like I’m god’s gift...meanwhile the whole line hates me and is no doubt thinking “stupid foreigners. Why don’t they learn the language?!”
So—as Norm Petersen said on Cheers, “It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m wearing milk bone underwear.” That was my yesterday. Oh well. What can I do but simply resolve to be nicer to the next non-English speaking visitor to DC who holds up the line in the store because they can’t figure out the currency, right? And today is a new day! I am having dinner with a friend of a former coworker who is American and came here after graduating from college. We are going to do dinner and drinks, and little does she know, but she will be my little window into China just for one evening. I have so many questions, so many things I want to understand. Especially the money. Gotta figure out the money…
Today is the Temple of Heaven (not a nudie bar but a temple near the Forbidden City), and tomorrow is the Great Wall tour to, of course, Badaling. Since I am just my own clueless self for the rest of today, I assure you that my cross-cultural Inspector Clouseau-style offensiveness will continue unabated until my dinner companion sheds some light for me tonight. Which means, to your great good fortune, that I will doubtless have additional stories to share on my Cluelessly Creating Ill Will tour of China. In the meantime, it is 11am here--and you know what that means: it's Beer Time!!
Yesterday found me in a restaurant mentioned in the Lonely Planet book on Beijing. No one there spoke English, the menu was entirely in Chinese, and all I had was my “Concise Guide to China” with helpful phrases such as, “Can you recommend something good?” and “I would like some noodles please.” Oh Man! What a scene! I ended up having ordered about 6 dishes without knowing it. They had brought a pot of tea but because I could touch the outside of the pot without flinching I did not drink it because I couldn’t be sure it was fully boiled, and therefore safe. So I ordered the only bottled thing on the menu: beer. Yeah baby! Nothin’ like a liter of beer at 11:30am! Nice. Started eating a dish that I only milliseconds later realized contained uncooked vegetables (a one-way ticket to a week-long ride on the porcelain bus) and panicked. So immediately drank a half liter of beer in the desperate hope that any potential bacteria would drown hard and fast like little microscopic drunkards. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to note that my “Beer as Cipro” plan worked beautifully. My gastrointestinal health is intact, and I will accept the Nobel Prize for Science as soon as I get home.
I bring up the restaurant not only to share my beer story, but to share that a) the entire meal cost about $8, and b) I obviously did something to offend the waitress that I still can’t figure out. All was well until I asked for the check. And then it went downhill. She seemed not so much mad as offended, but try as I might, I could not figure out all day yesterday what I might have done. I probably will never know, but I hate that the only American she has ever met will now be in her memory as a jerk of some kind. Then I bought some bottled water at a Quik Mart (yes they have quickie marts even in China---is no corner of the earth safe?!), and I did not realize that little bills with a “1” on them are not the same as the big bills with the “1” on them. The woman was sooo over me, as were all the people waiting behind me, as she was barking, “Yi! Yi!” at me (meaning “One! One!”) and I’m standing there looking like a shmo thinking, “I’ve given you a WAD of ones, lady! A veritable wad of ones!!” Only, I had given her the paper currency equivalent of 60 cents when what I needed was a dollar. So I gave her a 100 yuan note, which is, like, $12 but a huge bill to break here. So then she started checking it to see if it was counterfeit, she is pissed that I’m throwing big bills around like I’m god’s gift...meanwhile the whole line hates me and is no doubt thinking “stupid foreigners. Why don’t they learn the language?!”
So—as Norm Petersen said on Cheers, “It’s a dog eat dog world and I’m wearing milk bone underwear.” That was my yesterday. Oh well. What can I do but simply resolve to be nicer to the next non-English speaking visitor to DC who holds up the line in the store because they can’t figure out the currency, right? And today is a new day! I am having dinner with a friend of a former coworker who is American and came here after graduating from college. We are going to do dinner and drinks, and little does she know, but she will be my little window into China just for one evening. I have so many questions, so many things I want to understand. Especially the money. Gotta figure out the money…
Today is the Temple of Heaven (not a nudie bar but a temple near the Forbidden City), and tomorrow is the Great Wall tour to, of course, Badaling. Since I am just my own clueless self for the rest of today, I assure you that my cross-cultural Inspector Clouseau-style offensiveness will continue unabated until my dinner companion sheds some light for me tonight. Which means, to your great good fortune, that I will doubtless have additional stories to share on my Cluelessly Creating Ill Will tour of China. In the meantime, it is 11am here--and you know what that means: it's Beer Time!!
Friday, March 04, 2005
It Ain't The Gideon Bible, but It Sure Is Helpful
In the hotel room, the good people of the PRC have provided a small book called "Safe Journey in Beijing," which is written mostly in Mandarin, with some very brief translations in English. People who think of China as a very buttoned-up society are waaaay off, at least here in Beijing, which is very akin to New York City, only without the crime, pizza or bagels. I have already seen three different sex shops, only over here they don't have skeevy people hanging outside them; instead, their doors feature illustrations of cartoon-like characters that resemble "boy bits" wearing the store's products. If the sign didn't clearly say "Sex Shop" above the door, I might have thought it was some kind of kid's store with all the cartoonish characters goin' on. Although, now I have to wonder who the store is for exactly, since the sign is written in ENGLISH!
Anyway, before I go off on a tangent, here are a couple of my favorites from the book:
1) How to prevent infection in the hotels:
--Wash hand before eating if you have touched public used items in the room, like phone.
--If you receive a call during night from person of opposite sex to ask whether the service is needed, say "no."
2) Correct Honeymoon
--During honeymoon, sexual intercourses are frequent. Unhygienic of sex organs can easily cause bride to get diseases such as urethritis, cystitis...Attention should be paid to arrange honeymoon away from the period, wash sex organs before sexual life and change pants frequently.
3) How to avoid aerotitis media {ear popping}
--Mouth opening or swallowing is effective measure but rather unsightly, chewing candy or gum is the best idea and most pleasant way.
This book is a veritable godsend for the weary traveler who may, without reading this book, mistakenly answer "yes" when receiving the late night call inquiring if "the service" is needed.
Anyway, before I go off on a tangent, here are a couple of my favorites from the book:
1) How to prevent infection in the hotels:
--Wash hand before eating if you have touched public used items in the room, like phone.
--If you receive a call during night from person of opposite sex to ask whether the service is needed, say "no."
2) Correct Honeymoon
--During honeymoon, sexual intercourses are frequent. Unhygienic of sex organs can easily cause bride to get diseases such as urethritis, cystitis...Attention should be paid to arrange honeymoon away from the period, wash sex organs before sexual life and change pants frequently.
3) How to avoid aerotitis media {ear popping}
--Mouth opening or swallowing is effective measure but rather unsightly, chewing candy or gum is the best idea and most pleasant way.
This book is a veritable godsend for the weary traveler who may, without reading this book, mistakenly answer "yes" when receiving the late night call inquiring if "the service" is needed.
Charles de Gross Airport
This post is a little out of sequence, but I just couldn't get lost in all the joys of Beijing without sharing the hell that was the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. I kept saying the entire time, "this IS an INTERNATIONAL airport, right?" It was the living breathing embodiment of an airport run by the keystone cops. Or a little car full of clowns. Or an office full of chimps. I don't know. All I know is that it was hell on earth.
Our plane landed late. Everyone went to the exit. Exit did not open. Airport did not provide a stairway for us to walk down to get on the buses to the terminal. So we waited about 40 minutes for them to get a walkway. Meanwhile, three people near me have missed connecting flights.
We finally escaped the plane and ran to the buses, foolishly thinking that our ordeal was over. But alas, it was just beginning. The bus drove for about 5 minutes to the back of a terminal, stopped, and then just sat there for 35 minutes. People were getting angry, demanding to get off the bus, demanding a reason why we were being kept in the bus, lamenting their numerous now-missed flights. The bus was starting to smell and get hot, we're all standing, so some of us were getting a little woozy from the odor and the heat. The doors opened for a moment and one guy jumped out, only to be forcibly put back on the bus by a gendarme. So now we were REALLY wondering what is going on.
Finally, as inexplicably as it began, it ended. The doors opened, we all jumped out, only to find that none of the terminal doors was unlocked. So there we are, hundreds of disgruntled passengers standing in the middle of an airport road, trying to figure out en masse how we get inside. Finally, someone opens a door across the street, and we all run inside to demand an explanation, which of course no one has.
To this day, we have no idea how or why that happened, and neither does Air France, but it is pretty shocking from a basic customer service, not to mention security standpoint. How were entire buses of people just unloaded at the back end of terminals and then let in a door by a worker? How did an airport driver get the authority to keep hundreds of people stranded on a bus while offering zero explanation?
All I know is that we have a 2 hour layover on our trip home, and I am pretty certain that we are going to miss the connection, if the trip here was any indication of Situation Normal at Charles de Gaulle. And hear me now and believe me later: if anything even remotely as ludicrous occurs while I am trying to keep my new daughter from melting down on a 21 hour trip home, I will make it someone's problem in a big, big way.
Another post regarding the "gross" part of the Charles de Gross title will follow when I can work up the courage to share with you that I peed on my pants a little bit while in the "luxury" Air France lounge during my layover. There! That oughta keep you checking back!
Till next time, mes amis, au revoir! Zai jian!
Our plane landed late. Everyone went to the exit. Exit did not open. Airport did not provide a stairway for us to walk down to get on the buses to the terminal. So we waited about 40 minutes for them to get a walkway. Meanwhile, three people near me have missed connecting flights.
We finally escaped the plane and ran to the buses, foolishly thinking that our ordeal was over. But alas, it was just beginning. The bus drove for about 5 minutes to the back of a terminal, stopped, and then just sat there for 35 minutes. People were getting angry, demanding to get off the bus, demanding a reason why we were being kept in the bus, lamenting their numerous now-missed flights. The bus was starting to smell and get hot, we're all standing, so some of us were getting a little woozy from the odor and the heat. The doors opened for a moment and one guy jumped out, only to be forcibly put back on the bus by a gendarme. So now we were REALLY wondering what is going on.
Finally, as inexplicably as it began, it ended. The doors opened, we all jumped out, only to find that none of the terminal doors was unlocked. So there we are, hundreds of disgruntled passengers standing in the middle of an airport road, trying to figure out en masse how we get inside. Finally, someone opens a door across the street, and we all run inside to demand an explanation, which of course no one has.
To this day, we have no idea how or why that happened, and neither does Air France, but it is pretty shocking from a basic customer service, not to mention security standpoint. How were entire buses of people just unloaded at the back end of terminals and then let in a door by a worker? How did an airport driver get the authority to keep hundreds of people stranded on a bus while offering zero explanation?
All I know is that we have a 2 hour layover on our trip home, and I am pretty certain that we are going to miss the connection, if the trip here was any indication of Situation Normal at Charles de Gaulle. And hear me now and believe me later: if anything even remotely as ludicrous occurs while I am trying to keep my new daughter from melting down on a 21 hour trip home, I will make it someone's problem in a big, big way.
Another post regarding the "gross" part of the Charles de Gross title will follow when I can work up the courage to share with you that I peed on my pants a little bit while in the "luxury" Air France lounge during my layover. There! That oughta keep you checking back!
Till next time, mes amis, au revoir! Zai jian!
Thursday, March 03, 2005
Beijing Through the Eyes of The Haggis: Part One
Ni Hao, friends!
(As a program note, please pardon any errors in layout or appearance of the blog; I cannot access it from here to see what it looks like; I can only post to it via the back way, so if the spacing or whatnot is messed up, I will not know.)
Hello from Beijing, where it is in the arctic 20's right now. How do I know this? Because I just walked about 2 miles each way to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Was going to walk further but gave up because of the bitter cold wind. What did I learn on my first full day in Beijing? Let's see:
1) Whatever you think you know about China and the Chinese people, assume it's wrong. More on this later.
2) Americans tend to believe that Capitalism (an economic system) is interchangeable with Democracy (a political system); that they are the same thing. No city more illustrates the seeming chasm between the two--or perhaps the slightly unnerving way that Capitalism and a lack of Democracy seem to coexist comfortably--than Beijing. On one major street there are major malls, stores, many Western brands--and outside every 40 yards there is a policeman/military officer standing sentry. Just standing there, no doubt to "maintain order." I'll leave it at that till I get home.
Some other less-heavy findings:
3) Everyone spits in the street. Get used to it, and jump fast if you are too close.
4) Being the only platinum-blond haired person in a hotel makes you feel funny. Like, when you are in the café having some tea, or in a line, or at a monument and you look up, people who were staring at you avert their eyes very quickly—but not fast enough for you to miss the fact that you were being studied while you weren’t paying attention. And you wonder, are they trying to figure out which planet I’m from?
5) Although my hair color is pretty close to freak territory here, my skin tone, considered very fair in the US, is about average here. It’s like a freakin’ dream come true, y’all! Entire STREETS of people with my skin color! It’s AWESOME! I feel like if I dyed my hair black, I would almost fit in better here than I do at home.
6) But then there’s the d**n hair color again. For the purposes of telling a tall tale to the rubes back home, I will say this: I obviously resemble an ancient Empress named Badaling, who must have been very blond with a very Roman nose. Because while on the street, as soon as some people get within 10 feet of me coming towards them, they start yelling, “Badaling! Badaling! Badaling!” and start running over to me. Now, the other less-plausible explanation is that Badaling is the location at which The Great Wall is viewed by tourists, and these people see a blond walking toward them (= tourist = money) and start trying to sell me a car ride to The Great Wall. I only offer this tiny wisp of a possible explanation because Badaling might also have had a sister named “youneedmap?”
7) Do NOT under any circumstances engage the Beijing University art students. They are the squeegee men of Beijing. They follow you and harangue you to buy their art; they start out by saying, “You from America?! Beautiful! Do you like art?” And god forbid you say yes because then it is 45 minutes of this person following you along the street trying to get you to look at their calligraphy. Avoid the art students like your day depends on it. And if anyone knows how to write, “I am not interested in your art” in Chinese, please send it so I can wear a sign.
8) Traffic laws? We don’t need no stinking traffic laws! If you are in a car, it’s pretty much always “go.” Pedestrians are monitored by men in brown suits and red flags who tell you when you can cross. But just because you are crossing on a red light, don’t assume that cars will stop for you. Seriously. I had a thought this AM on my way to the Forbidden City that it won’t be giardia or SARS that takes me out on this trip; it will be a VW Passat, which seems to be the car of choice careening through crosswalks. Unless your car of choice is a bicycle, which is about 10 times faster and more cutthroat. By the end of the day, I pretty much started just walking one pace behind a Chinese person crossing the street, standing way too close to them by Western standards, and assumed that if they were crossing that they were pretty sure they could make it across, and therefore so would I, the Empress Badaling.
9) Don’t duck into a store to escape the cold weather and catch your breath. Every retail situation except in the very nice malls is a Sino-American running of the gauntlet: “Halloo! You like pandas? You like scarf? You like penguin? Hallo! Scarf! Panda! Penguin!” till you run out of the store to escape the cacophony.
10) Don’t get lost in Beijing. Seriously. This weekend is apparently a very important meeting of the National People’s Congress, which meets in the building in Tiananmen Square. If you happen to, say, get lost on your way to the other side of the Square and decide to amble down a side street that seems to go back in the direction that you came, DON’T. Corollary to “Don’t Get Lost in Beijing:” If a soldier with a gun puts his hand up at you from 15 feet away and looks at you like he’s daring you to take a step forward or back, stop immediately, stand very still, nod and smile at him energetically for as long as it takes for him to find someone who speaks English. Then assure the nice man that you are just a dumb blonde, took a wrong turn, trying to find someplace out of the cold, thought you’d take a short cut, so sorry to have gone down the alley where the National People’s Congress members park their cars. Say “thank you sir” and walk away. Remind yourself once again that capitalism and democracy are not the same thing. Remind self as you walk past the 15th McDonalds and the 30th soldier “keeping order” on the street, that if the US wants to live up to its ideals, we ought to be exporting a little less of the former, a whole lot more of the latter.
And with that, I'm off to the cafe downstairs for a green tea and my daily "stare fest."
(As a program note, please pardon any errors in layout or appearance of the blog; I cannot access it from here to see what it looks like; I can only post to it via the back way, so if the spacing or whatnot is messed up, I will not know.)
Hello from Beijing, where it is in the arctic 20's right now. How do I know this? Because I just walked about 2 miles each way to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. Was going to walk further but gave up because of the bitter cold wind. What did I learn on my first full day in Beijing? Let's see:
1) Whatever you think you know about China and the Chinese people, assume it's wrong. More on this later.
2) Americans tend to believe that Capitalism (an economic system) is interchangeable with Democracy (a political system); that they are the same thing. No city more illustrates the seeming chasm between the two--or perhaps the slightly unnerving way that Capitalism and a lack of Democracy seem to coexist comfortably--than Beijing. On one major street there are major malls, stores, many Western brands--and outside every 40 yards there is a policeman/military officer standing sentry. Just standing there, no doubt to "maintain order." I'll leave it at that till I get home.
Some other less-heavy findings:
3) Everyone spits in the street. Get used to it, and jump fast if you are too close.
4) Being the only platinum-blond haired person in a hotel makes you feel funny. Like, when you are in the café having some tea, or in a line, or at a monument and you look up, people who were staring at you avert their eyes very quickly—but not fast enough for you to miss the fact that you were being studied while you weren’t paying attention. And you wonder, are they trying to figure out which planet I’m from?
5) Although my hair color is pretty close to freak territory here, my skin tone, considered very fair in the US, is about average here. It’s like a freakin’ dream come true, y’all! Entire STREETS of people with my skin color! It’s AWESOME! I feel like if I dyed my hair black, I would almost fit in better here than I do at home.
6) But then there’s the d**n hair color again. For the purposes of telling a tall tale to the rubes back home, I will say this: I obviously resemble an ancient Empress named Badaling, who must have been very blond with a very Roman nose. Because while on the street, as soon as some people get within 10 feet of me coming towards them, they start yelling, “Badaling! Badaling! Badaling!” and start running over to me. Now, the other less-plausible explanation is that Badaling is the location at which The Great Wall is viewed by tourists, and these people see a blond walking toward them (= tourist = money) and start trying to sell me a car ride to The Great Wall. I only offer this tiny wisp of a possible explanation because Badaling might also have had a sister named “youneedmap?”
7) Do NOT under any circumstances engage the Beijing University art students. They are the squeegee men of Beijing. They follow you and harangue you to buy their art; they start out by saying, “You from America?! Beautiful! Do you like art?” And god forbid you say yes because then it is 45 minutes of this person following you along the street trying to get you to look at their calligraphy. Avoid the art students like your day depends on it. And if anyone knows how to write, “I am not interested in your art” in Chinese, please send it so I can wear a sign.
8) Traffic laws? We don’t need no stinking traffic laws! If you are in a car, it’s pretty much always “go.” Pedestrians are monitored by men in brown suits and red flags who tell you when you can cross. But just because you are crossing on a red light, don’t assume that cars will stop for you. Seriously. I had a thought this AM on my way to the Forbidden City that it won’t be giardia or SARS that takes me out on this trip; it will be a VW Passat, which seems to be the car of choice careening through crosswalks. Unless your car of choice is a bicycle, which is about 10 times faster and more cutthroat. By the end of the day, I pretty much started just walking one pace behind a Chinese person crossing the street, standing way too close to them by Western standards, and assumed that if they were crossing that they were pretty sure they could make it across, and therefore so would I, the Empress Badaling.
9) Don’t duck into a store to escape the cold weather and catch your breath. Every retail situation except in the very nice malls is a Sino-American running of the gauntlet: “Halloo! You like pandas? You like scarf? You like penguin? Hallo! Scarf! Panda! Penguin!” till you run out of the store to escape the cacophony.
10) Don’t get lost in Beijing. Seriously. This weekend is apparently a very important meeting of the National People’s Congress, which meets in the building in Tiananmen Square. If you happen to, say, get lost on your way to the other side of the Square and decide to amble down a side street that seems to go back in the direction that you came, DON’T. Corollary to “Don’t Get Lost in Beijing:” If a soldier with a gun puts his hand up at you from 15 feet away and looks at you like he’s daring you to take a step forward or back, stop immediately, stand very still, nod and smile at him energetically for as long as it takes for him to find someone who speaks English. Then assure the nice man that you are just a dumb blonde, took a wrong turn, trying to find someplace out of the cold, thought you’d take a short cut, so sorry to have gone down the alley where the National People’s Congress members park their cars. Say “thank you sir” and walk away. Remind yourself once again that capitalism and democracy are not the same thing. Remind self as you walk past the 15th McDonalds and the 30th soldier “keeping order” on the street, that if the US wants to live up to its ideals, we ought to be exporting a little less of the former, a whole lot more of the latter.
And with that, I'm off to the cafe downstairs for a green tea and my daily "stare fest."
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
One More Person in the People's Republic
Well, friends. Today is the Big Day. It's gonna be Wheels Up on my trip to China to get my daughter.
This means several things:
1) My posts will be less frequent, but I assure you, still ongoing. After all, I'm flying Air France, which means I will bump into French people, and you know how I get when that happens. ;)
2) I realized last night that I have single-handledly raised the stock price of Bristol Myers Squibb with all the pharmaceuticals I'm taking, both for adult and baby. I've got the Imodium, the Cipro, the anti-barfing stuff, the ear drops, the eye drops, the nose saline, the anti-constipation, the pro-constipation...let's put it this way: If there is an orifice that could drip, run, dry up, seize up, or otherwise go horrifyingly awry, I have the drugs to make it better.
3) I had a big epiphany this morning as I got up early, shoveled snow, walked to my coffee shop and sat quietly, leisurely, ruminatively drinking my last cappuccino in the United States----and finally internalized that this was the last time without a little person attached to me via the Snugli making it not so quiet, leisurely or ruminative.
4) I will, for only the second time in my life, step off a plane into a country where I do not speak the language, cannot read the signs, and (for the first time in my life) look not at all like the people who surround me on the streets. That is going to be such a huge rush, to see how I do, to see if have the stones to tackle all that Beijing offers. I'm psyched to see Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall, eat the famous Peking Duck, and just generally hang out and take it all in.
5) I am so ready for Guangzhou after Beijing for one simple reason: Beijing = 37 degrees; Guangzhou = 67 degrees. Nuff said.
6) Prepare yourself for a few posts about the other families with whom I'm traveling to get our bambinas. Even my agency person said, "it's so great to have the support of other families with you, but by the end of the 10 days you just want to get your kid home and get far, far away from all of these people. And that's okay." So you KNOW you are going to hear about that! I already know who is going to drive me crazy. One guy who mouth-breathed through our entire "travel arrangements conference call" with all of the traveling families. He rather athletically respired into his mouthpiece through the entire call, to the extent that I was starting to wonder whether I had dialed a 900 number rather than an 866. He also knew EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING and so, by divine design, will drive me crazy because, as we all know, *I* am the person who knows everything about everything. ;)
Okay. Time to go do one final look-see to make sure I'm truly ready to go. Someone asked me if I was scared about flying so far, being on a plane for so long, traveling to a completely foreign land with no language skills save a pocket sized book of helpful phrases; my answer is no. Because I do not believe for one minute that this is a solo trip for any of us. The Chinese have a saying: "An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.” I am simply going to follow my end of the red thread, holding on tightly, to the place where my daughter is waiting for me; and then we are simply going to follow that same red thread home.
Next post from China!
This means several things:
1) My posts will be less frequent, but I assure you, still ongoing. After all, I'm flying Air France, which means I will bump into French people, and you know how I get when that happens. ;)
2) I realized last night that I have single-handledly raised the stock price of Bristol Myers Squibb with all the pharmaceuticals I'm taking, both for adult and baby. I've got the Imodium, the Cipro, the anti-barfing stuff, the ear drops, the eye drops, the nose saline, the anti-constipation, the pro-constipation...let's put it this way: If there is an orifice that could drip, run, dry up, seize up, or otherwise go horrifyingly awry, I have the drugs to make it better.
3) I had a big epiphany this morning as I got up early, shoveled snow, walked to my coffee shop and sat quietly, leisurely, ruminatively drinking my last cappuccino in the United States----and finally internalized that this was the last time without a little person attached to me via the Snugli making it not so quiet, leisurely or ruminative.
4) I will, for only the second time in my life, step off a plane into a country where I do not speak the language, cannot read the signs, and (for the first time in my life) look not at all like the people who surround me on the streets. That is going to be such a huge rush, to see how I do, to see if have the stones to tackle all that Beijing offers. I'm psyched to see Tiananmen Square, the Great Wall, eat the famous Peking Duck, and just generally hang out and take it all in.
5) I am so ready for Guangzhou after Beijing for one simple reason: Beijing = 37 degrees; Guangzhou = 67 degrees. Nuff said.
6) Prepare yourself for a few posts about the other families with whom I'm traveling to get our bambinas. Even my agency person said, "it's so great to have the support of other families with you, but by the end of the 10 days you just want to get your kid home and get far, far away from all of these people. And that's okay." So you KNOW you are going to hear about that! I already know who is going to drive me crazy. One guy who mouth-breathed through our entire "travel arrangements conference call" with all of the traveling families. He rather athletically respired into his mouthpiece through the entire call, to the extent that I was starting to wonder whether I had dialed a 900 number rather than an 866. He also knew EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING and so, by divine design, will drive me crazy because, as we all know, *I* am the person who knows everything about everything. ;)
Okay. Time to go do one final look-see to make sure I'm truly ready to go. Someone asked me if I was scared about flying so far, being on a plane for so long, traveling to a completely foreign land with no language skills save a pocket sized book of helpful phrases; my answer is no. Because I do not believe for one minute that this is a solo trip for any of us. The Chinese have a saying: "An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet regardless of time, place or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but will never break.” I am simply going to follow my end of the red thread, holding on tightly, to the place where my daughter is waiting for me; and then we are simply going to follow that same red thread home.
Next post from China!
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