Beijing, part 18: One Last Temple

From the middle of Beijing, we walked and took the subway north and west to the Lama Temple. The bus was too crowded. The temple was originally an imperial residence, but was converted to a Tibetan Buddhist lamasery in 1744.




Lots of worshippers. 'Twas a Sunday, so the Buddhists were taking advantage of their day off work. I felt a bit self-conscious being a tourist while all these people were worshipping.





The Lama Temple was actually a series of halls, each one bigger and more ornate than the previous.



The statues inside got bigger and more ornate, too. But you're not allowed to take pictures inside the halls (or burn incense inside, for that matter). The final statue is an 18-meter-high colossus of Buddha in the penultimate hall. Huge. Golden. Peaceful. Carved from a single tree? Perhaps.





An epilogue hall, then back through the incense-filled courtyards to the main gate.

I've posted more photos of Lama Temple on flickr.

And that was that for sightseeing in China. We stood by the 2nd Ring Road and got picked up by Chunyu. Time to go home.

Beijing, part 17: Let There Be Drums

At the heart of old Beijing rises the Drum Tower, from which drummers would beat out the times of the day (and occasional warnings).



Chunyu dropped us off -- Yüfang, Steven, Chunlin, and I -- and up we climbed.



Red columns and beams similar to the Southeast Watchtower. Later Ming Dynasty.



We had a half hour to wait till the 1:30 drum performance.





Views out over the hazy city. Visitors are only allowed on the south balcony -- into the sun, blech.



The tourists were gathering. No time for lunch.



Boom boom bada boom! Impressive five-man drum show on the big drums.





Then we descended and headed next door to the east to the same restaurant as Monday evening. At 2 p.m. it was slightly easier to get a table. Hao chi baozi, pi jiu goes down smooth from a bowl.



We said goodby to Yüfang and Steven. She took food to Chunyu, who was still at the car.


I took a brief look at the nearby Bell Tower, but didn't go inside.

More photos from our visit are on flickr, if you'd like to see them.

Beijing, part 16: Driving, etc.

A typical Chinese city arterial street. Note the secondary lanes to the sides, primarily for bicycles, separated from the car lanes. Wide enough for cars, but you need to drive slowly. The street doesn't seem much wider than a typical American street, does it? If Seattle were serious about bicycles, we'd have avenues like this, instead of the stupid "sharrows" all over.


Another feature on Chinese streets: the countdown clock. They tell you how many seconds are remaining for the signal, whether it's red, green, or an arrow. In Seattle, we have countdown clocks on the pedestrian crossing signals, which I sometimes look at while driving to know how much is left in my green light. Wouldn't it be simpler to have it overhead? It's helpful to drivers so they know when they're not going to make a green or to minimize their impatience while waiting at a red.


Expressways are always fun, if they're flowing...


The blue streaks overhead are actually green arrows. The expressways (toll required, so not freeways) in Beijing are all very controlled. Variable speed limits, arrows for merging around blocking -- similar to what WSDOT installed in south Seattle on I-5 this year. But Beijing also has large signs that are maps of the near section of the expressway system, with red, yellow, and green lights showing where backups are. The closest we have in Seattle are a few "this way is 11 minutes, this way is 15 minutes" signs that don't really help you if you're not going to downtown Seattle or downtown Bellevue.

The Jingcheng Expressway north out of town, like many Chinese expressways, had different speed limits (maxima and minima) for different lanes.

Didn't we try that in the US and decide it didn't work?

Along with large signs saying "no overheight loads" (cartoon giraffe in a truck), "no overweight loads" (cartoon elephant in a truck), "no drunk driving" (various alcohol bottles and glasses), Beijing also had entertaining "no littering" signs.


Also this "Don't Use Neutral on the Downhill" sign...



I saw these signs along the expressway, when approaching tollbooths. At first, I assumed they meant "etc." for "all other vehicles," but that didn't really make sense. The ETC lanes didn't have to stop, and why would the Chinese abbreviate in Latin? And then we figured out that it stood for "Electronic Transmitter C-doohickey," or whatever. Electronic tolling like WSDOT's Good-to-Go program where you put a transmitter in your car, linked to a prepaid account.

Chunyu's car had a built-in GPS.


It worked swell most of the time, but when we drove out to the Great Wall on the new Jingcheng Expressway, it failed.

The GPS told Chunyu to exit the expressway and get on the old highway, but I convinced him not to exit. Soon we were wandering across the countryside, flying over rivers and through mountains, nary a road in sight (on the map, at least), while the GPS tried to recalculate...

Oh well. At least it played DVDs.

A DVD player in the front seat of the car is a delightfully dangerous distraction. Kung fu!

I wasn't entirely comfortable with Chunyu watching the movie while driving. Drift in the lane, drift slower and slower, speed up again. Eyes on the road, please.

On Sunday morning, 'twas an empty city. Our whole family piled into the car, going down the relatively empty road.

A donkey pulling a cart down the boulevard...

Chunyu wasn't quite sure how to get to the Drum Tower, so he turned left down an alley shortcut to the expressway and we wound up three miles off-course -- in the middle of a traffic jam. Nice. How come Chaoyang Road was so clear? How come he didn't know it went straight into town? When we finally got near the Drum Tower, traffic was so slow that pedestrians passed us. The heart of Beijing is made for bicycles and pedestrians, not automobiles.

On Chaoyang Road, dozens and dozens of apartment skyscrapers were under construction, vacant. Three-story worker shelters cowered nearby. Who will live in this new city? A half million new residents -- from older parts of Beijing? From the provinces? And they'll be served by two or three new subway stops on the 6 line (under construction -- Coming 2011!).


No city's subway is as complex as New York's, I'd say. Big? Yes. Busy? Yes. Complex? No. Beijing and Shanghai both need a lot more crisscrossing lines to get to New York's level. Beijing is trying to have New York's subway system overlayed with Los Angeles's expressway system, but they're not there yet. Right now, they have Houston's expressway system with ten times the traffic. A car town desperately trying to catch up.

Beijing, part 15: Family Meals and Foot Massages

We met Jason's daughter of many names. Apple is her chosen English name, so that's how I know her.


She's a singer, dancer, model, voice actress -- eight or nine years old.


Apple is a precocious one. Kindergarden English level. He has trouble with the Fs in "five" and "fifteen," but has no problem with "four."

Chunlin described Jason's apartment as an old house, since it was built before she moved away in 1988. This is the view out his window.


One morning, we went into town with Chunyu and jia ren (family). We dropped off Steven at school. They had extra security measures because of a rash and scare of child killings in Beijing recently.




Chunyu then dropped us and Fuyang at Sihui Dong Station (the end of line 1) to join the crazy crush of rush-hour subway traffic. We waited for the next train to get a seat, but what's the point? We only stayed on the train for two stops anyway.

A couple days later, Chunyu and his wife Yufang gave us a prepaid card for foot massages at a nearby shop operated by blind men. Felt good. Our sore feet were not so sore anymore.

Sitting with my feet
In a bucket of tea
In a room painted pink
With my wife next to me

Afterwards, we returned home for dinner with the family. I played with Steve and his toys (legos, matchbox cars, toy guns, etc.). He called me "Gu Fu" which means "uncle on father's side, but not one of his brothers," or something like that. In any case, he didn't really pronounce the last vowel, so it sounded more like "Goof"! I am the big goof. Wa shi da gufu.


Chunyu's cats aren't much fun to play with. Careful or they'll scratch you, he said.


I fell asleep watching the Adventures of Monkey and Pig (or whatever it's called) while the others chatted.

The next morning, no rush. I was fairly medieval-architectured out. Not much besides that to see in Beijing. Chunlin and I went out to the street to buy breakfast -- soup in a bag, ubiquitous fried dough, and cooked-on-the-spot pancake-egg-chive-hot-sauce wrap of some sort -- very tasty. The soup was too smoky for me. It tasted like burnt campfire pancakes.

Chunlin watched Chinese Dateline CCTV, or something like that. 9 a.m. What to do today? How about a massage?

Lying on a bed
With a hole for my head
Me and the one I wed
Blind men rub us red

After touring, we met with Jason and his girlfriend Shannon for a fancy dinner in the Haidian District. Chunlin and I were a half hour late, but Shannon was over an hour later than us. We started without her. She didn't eat much of what we saved for her, anyway. Chunyu and Steve picked us up and took us back home to Tongzhou.

The next evening, Chunlin had another foot massage while I played Grand Theft Auto with maniac Steve. Knowing English is very helpful for remembering the cheat codes. Dinner again at home with Chunyu's family.

The following evening, however, we all went out for a big meal. Finally, we had everyone together (well, except Shannon). It was supposedly a fancy restaurant (Jin Bai Wan, the same chain as our first lunch in Beijing) but this particular restaurant had the atmosphere of a noisy Denny's or McDonald's. The Peking Duck was very good and the presentation on the plates was quite nice, but it seemed a bit of a waste.




No matter how good the food was, it's not a fancy restaurant when there's a plastic number placard on the table. Table 62 will never be as fancy as room 35 -- like the restaurants in Shanghai and Nanjing we had big meals at. Best for first.

We then returned home all together, except for Chunlin and Yufang, who stopped off for foot massages. Cousins Apple and Steven played together nicely. Thanks to China's one-child policy, apparently now the words for "brother" and "sister" are used for first cousins.

The next morning, we get another relaxingly slow start. Chunlin had another massage and got a haircut, to boot. Meanwhile I watched Chicken Little in Chinese. Chunlin can't get enough of the cheap massages.

And that's how our days in Beijing went, around all the sight-seeing.

La la la, la lune est là
Lune est là, yuè liàng
La la la, la lune est là
Moi shì loony!

Beijing, part 14: The Great Wall

The Great Wall of China is certainly an impressive feat of engineering. How did they build it? The same way they build everything in China -- manpower!



Silver snake of stone slithering over hazy hills to the horizon.



Chunyu and his extended family decided not to venture far from our arrival point at the wall, but Chunlin was willing to join me hiking up the ridge.



Up and over and along a ridgeline of cliffs. From what I can tell on the map, this ridge (and thus the wall) is the borderline between the municipality of Beijing and the province of Hebei. Doesn't quite feel like Beijing, does it?



The sections with stairs seem newer -- they were probably rebuilt for tourists. The higher sections don't have steps, but just a steep (and slippery) ramp. A very steep ramp.



Most parapet/guardrails are gone. Don't get too close to the edge!



Five watchtowers later, there wasn't much wall left. For some stretches, there's just 18" of brick wall each side of six feet of bare rock.





A gate. Too steep and dangerous to proceed further. The sign proclaims a 200-yuan fine ($30), but only a 100-yuan bribe to the guards is needed if you really want to keep going.

I trusted the gate-maker's judgment and stopped there. I pulled out my zoom lens, however, and pointed it further up the ridge.


Not much of a wall up there, is it?

After a short while, we turned our toes back down the hill. Our jiaren (family) was waiting.





Hawkers waited for us back at the wall access point. One lady wanted to sell me a book about the wall. I said no (bu yao), repeatedly. She chased me to the next tower and back again. Then, she tried tshirts. XL? "Tai da le." (Too big.) M? "Tai xiao le." (Too small.) L? "Tai hei le." (Too black -- I prefered the gray of the other two.) We got the black large shirt anyway ... eventually. 50, 10, 40, 10, 40, 15, 40, 45 whoops 15, 30, 20, 25, 20 yuan -- mai le (bought). Chunlin took over for me at the end of that exchange. I actually walked away, down the trail to the tram. But now I'm the proud owner of an "I climbed the Great Wall!" tshirt which says Simatai (the name of this stretch) on the back (in Chinese).



And down down down we go.



It wasn't till we returned to town that I realized I hadn't needed to blow my nose the entire time we were away. Good clean air in the countryside.



I've posted many more photos of the Great Wall on flickr, if you'd like to see 'em.

This Month's Photo of Chunlin

On my calendar this month is this lovely photo from a long, long time ago (last year), on our Fourth of July tour of eastern Washington (and Highways 22 and 23).

Happy sunny days...