Temple of Heaven

  Beijing, China
Wednesday, July 11, 2007

The generation of North Americans born between 1965 and 1980--in Canadian writer Hal Niedzviecki´s coinage, the "Malaise Generation"--seems to have pretty much given up hope that any good will come of this place called Earth. 
     Halle Lasn, Culture Jam

Today I enjoyed Beijing.  I saw a totally different China than the crazy streets of Beijing and Xi'an.

Temple of Heaven Park (9)

First of all, after a weekend of rain, we have had blue skies with pretty cumulus clouds.  Second, I ventured into the Temple of Heaven Park.  On the way there I ducked into a number of hutong neighborhoods--old neighborhoods that still exist from Beijing before the days of skyscrapers and massive apartment complexes. 

Immediately north of the square the city becomes immediately proletariat unlike the southern side.  New shopping malls and tourists dominate anything south of the square.  I guess I avoided tourists by chosing to walk the mile from the square to Temple of Heaven.

As soon as I ducked off the main street into a hutong I felt transported back in time 100 years ago.  This is the quiet, intimate China that I thought I would see more often.  I couldn't believe that I was only a few blocks away from Tianneman Square.  I smiled, exchanged 'Ni Hao's' and wandered, receiving smiles and Ni Hao's back.  People sat outside in the alley ways, picking their teeth, playing cards, eating, smoking, or just chilling.  I couldn't hear any of the typical Beijing cacophony from the busy boulevard just meters away.

Temple of Heaven Park (8)

Once in the Temple of Heaven park, at first I thought it would be yet another tourist attraction plagued by massive crowds of photo-happy tourists, foreign and Chinese alike.  As soon as I stepped into the tree-lined park off the main promenade, I found myself transported into a tranquil world with hardly a soul.  I wandered for hours amongt 700-year old junipers interupted by an occasional Chinese musician using the tranquility to practice.  I sat and listened to several musicians who seemed thrilled to have me as an audience.  I read my Lonely Planet, listened to birds chirp, watched couples play hacky sack and just relaxed. 

I finished the evening wandering into more hutong neighborhoods and their markets, attempting to get lost.  I stuffed myself on 4 yuan of street food and just enjoyed feeling like I was the only white person in all of China.  Everyone seemed just as surprised to see me and generally happy.  Maybe everyone, like me, is just happier that there are blue skies.