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...

Beijing, part 13: Going to Simatai

Finally we headed to the Great Wall of China!

We started by sleeping in... Breakfast at 9:30, then go. The roads were busier than I expected for a Saturday morning. Maybe if we'd left earlier...


Chunyu, Yufang, Steven, Chunlin, and I in one car. We met up with Yufang's niece and her boyfriend at a toll gate, for a grand total of seven in our group.



It felt good to get out of the city. Once we passed the 6th Ring Road, the Jingcheng Expressway was clear sailing all the way to Simatai.

North of town, the new expressway was an almost continous series of tunnels and bridges.







I could see the Great Wall in the distance! Let's get closer!


But first, some food.

The restaurant took far too long to produce dumplings. Hmph. No air circulation inside, either, making it unbearable. Hungry, hot, impatient, wanting to go to the wall -- I was in no mood for this delay! Just ask Chunlin.

Finally, we got on the cable car.


It was slow, but easier and faster than walking.


Closer and closer to the wall.



Next, the mini train, pulled up up up by a giant winch.



Closer and closer, off the tram and up the trail -- staircase, really.



Up up up, closer and closer to ... the wall!



Smaller than I imagined...

More photos on flickr.

Beijing, part 12: 798 Art District

We headed into the 'burbs to the 798 Art District, which used to be an industrial area, but was repurposed by the government. The concept of a centrally planned art district is just wrong, if you ask me. The government says, "Here. Take this old factory. You go here. You go there. Be creative in your little box."

Dominating one courtyard was a set of sculptures -- many wolves around one swordsman.











We wandered around, not quite sure which gallery to see first.

This is one of the first galleries we went in. It didn't have any "no photo" signs...


I tried to take a photo of the next gallery -- the room, mind you, like above, and not a specific painting -- and I get a "No photos" from a worker. I can understand them not wanting someone to reproduce one of their paintings without permission, but to block a photo of the whole space? Petty security-guard nonsense.

Even if I were to photograph a painting, it's still not the real thing. If I diseminate the image widely, it's free advertising! But they want control, not fame and money.

A tshirt shop had three signs around the door proclaiming "No photos." One of the signs even said they'd fine you 100 yuan ($15) for taking a picture. Really? On what authority? Is this a law? Does it apply to the tshirts visible from the sidewalk?

They're afraid of someone stealing their ideas, but their ideas are so basic that I wouldn't need a photo to reproduce them: Obama dressed as Mao, etc. Let others make similar tshirts and let the competition begin!

So I took photos of the old buildings and a restaurant's lanterns.


And Chunlin, of course.


And random bits of architecture.


And the sculpture arrayed along the sidewalks.


We sat for a while in an exhibit called "Kids" -- paintings of children from around the world, by one artist. The set in front of us was entitled "Health Disease Happiness Sadness Grow-Up Death Homeland Rangers." Of eighteen portraits, only one or two look happy. The vast majority look miserable. If you put balance in your title, your art work should have balance.

The silkwork in one gallery was very nice. The musculature on the horses -- done in thread -- looked real. A black cat disappearing into the darkness. Expensive, of course. Everything's for sale -- but you've got to go to China if you want to see it because free advertising is out of the question.

Beijing, part 11: Summer Palace

After three long bus rides, we'd traversed the city and arrived at the gate of the Summer Palace, the 18th and 19th Century pleasure park for the emperors. Hot but a breeze kept us comfortable as long as we didn't move. Lots of people visiting, hanging out, flying kites.

We got some food -- baozi, etc. -- and ate it. We then crossed the 17-Arch Bridge to South Lake Island, home of the Dragon King's Temple.







The temple wasn't very photogenic, so we continued onward to the north end of the island.





We fought the tour groups for a seat on one of the dragon boat ferries.




The ferry took us to the ultimate symbol of Empress Dowager Cixi's "let them eat cake" attitude: the marble boat.

"We don't need a modern navy. We need more playthings for me!" Although by that time (1888), it was probably too late for the empire anyway.

We finally started some souvenir shopping. A dragon, rabbit, and monkey for us and a tiger for Amy. A Monkey King and the ingénue from the opera. Jesus armwrestling Satan -- in 3D!

And then we slowly proceded down the Long Corridor -- with uncountable tour groups.


Some of the tour guides carried national flags that had nothing at all to do with the tour group -- the groups looked all Chinese to me. I suppose the national flags were unique and easy to spot in the crush of humanity.






Near the East Gate were the main imperial buildings -- the local throne room, etc. Outside the main hall was this qilin -- a strange mix of dragon, deer, fish, ox, and lion -- which is a good omen of serenity and prosperity.


Outside the East Gate, we caught a bus -- which bus? That bus? It doesn't stop. How about this bus? -- and went to dinner.

I've got more photos from the Summer Palace on flickr, if you'd like to see them.