Beijing, September 28, 2008, Sunday
Trip Start
Sep 26, 2008
1
3
31
Trip End
Oct 18, 2008
Beijing,
China
Sunday, December 14, 2008
PingPing was waiting for me in the car. We intended to go to the Summer Palace, have breakfast somewhere in front of it and then go in. Last night I had not thought we would need the car today, but PingPing had held a different opinion and she was obviously right. First off, once I got in the car and we got started on our way, I realised that unless PingPing was doing a deliberate detour, and I saw no reason why she would, the distance we were covering was considerably larger than I had thought it would be
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. We found ourselves again on a road which I was not quite sure whether to call a city road, or it had already turned into a motorway. But whatever it was, one of the first sights that caught my eye was a cyclist who was blissfully riding his bicycle along the line dividing the lay-by lane and the right-hand lane of this motorway - or at least the six-lane city thoroughfare. The sheer appearance of a cyclist on such a road for me bordered on the impossible. And what was one supposed to say to the fact that the buster, completely unfazed, rode in the opposite direction to boot, that is, towards us? After that, if a UFO had landed on that particular motorway, I don't think I'd have been much more flabbergasted. And PingPing paid roughly as much attention to him as to the nearest traffic sign. Which in China in effect usually means no attention at all. If I had asked her five minutes later what she thought about it, I wouldn't have been surprised if she had drawn a blank. It seemed that on that whole road I was the only one who deemed that sight worthy of any attention.Some ten minutes later we found ourselves at the car park in front of the Summer Palace. There were no problems in that respect. However, problems arose in the fact that in entire neighbourhood we couldn't see one eatery or food stall that China is otherwise famous for. With an exception of some sweets, surprisingly, only souvenirs were sold here. Hence PingPing decided that we again sit in the car, go back downtown, eat something there and then return again
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.Beijing is a huge city and many things that in Beijing are "not far away" may seem almost at the end of the world to someone coming from a small country and a small town. After all, from my home it takes twenty minutes or so to the border with Slovenia if the traffic is not too heavy. We took longer to reach Haidian Road where PingPing considered it best to have a breakfast. For, of course, it was near. When we finally arrived where she fancied it, we parked and found one of those little fast-food eateries which were springing up all over the place. Except in front of the Summer Palace. Anyway, there we ate some dough sticks fried in oil, drank soy milk and then headed back towards the Palace. Now after we had had our breakfast, we were ready for sightseeing.
PingPing had a yearly ticket.
"I often come here with my friends," she said. "We like it here."
As for me, I had to buy my ticket. When 60 Chinese yuan later I acquired the permission to enter one of the most famous Beijing landmarks, we went to the entrance.
"Do many Chinese have yearly ticket as you do?" I asked PingPing.
"Sure. My mother has it, too. Maybe we'll see her inside," she answered
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."Is that right?"
"Yes. She comes here with her friends every day."
"So, we may witness a family reunion, then?"
"I hope not. Not today," PingPing said and I decided not to dig into that one further.
The Summer Palace is indisputably one of the most popular Beijing landmarks. So I too was thinking like if I wouldn't have time for all the things while here, the Summer Palace nevertheless mustn't be missed. Yíhé Yuán in original, for some ten years or so already, it's been on UNESCO's World Cultural Heritage list as a "masterpiece of Chinese landscape garden design." As such, it was interesting both to tourists as a sightseeing destination and to locals as a recreational park. That was obviously why both PingPing and her mother were frequent visitors here. Same as many other Chinese.
Main entrance into the Palace was through the East Palace Gate or Donggongmen. In front and next to it there were bronze statues of what to me looked like horned dragons and chubby, but angry lions, as well as sculpted bush in the form of what resembled a rooster. Even if the horned dragon was in fact a so-called qilin, i.e. a mythical, hoofed chimerical creature
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. When you look at it, you wish you had a sweater on. Or maybe, even better, a fireproof overall. But the guy's a vegetarian, same as me, which in a way makes us brothers, I guess. And I'd say he's even got a thing or two on me, for when he walks on grass, not a blade gets trampled. I've not managed to pull off that feat yet.Anyway, the gate itself had three doors, and in times bygone the one in the centre served exclusively the emperor and the empress, whereas the two side doors were for nobles and ministers. Complete with red Chinese lanterns, one hanging at every door, it was waiting to let us - and the ever growing crowd - in.
Once inside, I let PingPing lead the way to where she deemed it best to go. After all, this was a huge complex and if I wanted to see it whole, I would need a good part of the day no matter what.
By the way, the Summer Palace is certainly the most celebrated imperial garden in China. It came into existence early in the 1750s and had once served the purpose of a summer resort for the emperors. It features what may be in the range of hundreds of architecturally distinct buildings, halls, pavilions, pagodas, bridges and corridors dispersed among some magnificent and elegant gardens, but also some less than tidy woods. Which in their turn give it some natural charm.
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Actually, its first incarnation started as the Garden of Clear Ripples. Then, during the Second Opium War, the Anglo-French Allied Forces brought a fresh breath of civilisation and progress, and in 1860 duly destroyed it, and then for the good measure burned down what was left of it. Then the Empress Dowager Cixi, the same one who was tossing concubines into wells, rebuilt the garden, having embezzled funds from the imperial navy and named it Yíhé Yuán. The Summer Palace, that is. With all that misappropriated money put into the reconstruction and enlargement, Cixi started using it as her a summer resort. But in order not to have development and advancement they had initiated in 1860 stall and stop, western allies gathered full of concern again and in 1900 under the cloak of the Boxer Rebellion, as the Eight-Power Allied Force, meticulously ransacked and ravaged the palace anew. Once again, the damage was repaired in 1902. Since then, the Summer Palace has finally been left in peace. In fact, the People's Republic of China even conducted several major renovations within the Summer Palace, restoring some of its major attractions. And now it's on that UNESCO's list.
Anyway, the Palace has three unique areas, and the first one you inevitably come to, right after you pass through the East Palace Gate is the Court Area. But PingPing thought it was best to make a sharp turn to the right, enter the deep shadow of the trees and along the paved path first visit the Garden of Harmonious Interests
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. Xiequ Yuán, as it is called in local language, was the place where emperors and empresses went fishing and took in the scenery. From the perspective of someone who's not the emperor, but rather just a common foreign tourist, this spot was a pond, its surface almost entirely covered with lotus flowers, surrounded by a number of pavilions and cloisters, and some lush, very green trees.Even if we had arrived quite early, first pavilion we entered was already occupied by a four-piece, makeshift geezer band of a dubious quality, whose line-up, split equally along gender lines, consisted of three violins and an accordion. Even if one lady on violin wasn't bad at all, as a band they were constantly out of tune, as if it belonged to their job description. They simply struggled to carry the melody within recognisable - and listenable - limits. But they played first and foremost to themselves and for themselves, and consequently had a very good time along the way. Besides, it didn't seem to bother much a few people of their age gathered around them in the pavilion, giving them a hearty round of applause after every song. And if your audience is happy, what else do you need? After all, isn't the essence of music sharing it with others and making them happy? And that was exactly what they were doing. And by the looks of it, with success.
And most important of all, this disharmony didn't at all disturb two people of the same generation, a lady and a gentleman, who were alternately having a go at singing to the musical background the band provided
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. And whereas the lady was singing so-so, the gentleman simply stood out with his quality, entirely undaunted by the wobbling music behind his singing, and confidently treaded up and down the melody, never once falling out of pitch. The geezer must have clearly been a singer somewhere in his heyday. And a good one at that.What sort of songs they were exactly singing, revolutionary or maybe schlager melodies from Chinese past, I had no way of knowing. The lyrics, of course, meant nothing to me and I didn't ask PingPing to enlighten me. In any case, at one point the unlistenability of the band prevailed over the genuinely good singing of that elderly gentleman and I suggested PingPing that we move on.
It didn't take us long to come upon the next artistic act. In another pavilion we found two gentlemen, retirees again, one of whom was playing a traditional Chinese wooden string instrument of a very small body, the size of a medium beer mug, then a short and thin neck and only two strings. The other gentleman was singing something which even I recognised as Chinese opera. Now, whether it was a Beijing opera or some other one, that was way beyond my knowledge. However, right there it didn't matter much. PingPing and I stopped to give it a listen. And while to me, completely unfamiliar with Chinese traditional music art, it sounded as just a common howling and moaning, PingPing was singing along in a subdued voice, faithfully following and deftly navigating all those most improbable vocal inflections and roller-coaster rides such music seems to entail
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. When the gentlemen brought the aria to the end, I sighed a breath of relief. PingPing, on the other hand, greeted them with a frenetic applause. Which then and there made both of them grow an inch taller.So much about tastes.
However, regardless of all, I had to admit one thing. Chinese elderly generation obviously knew how to have a good time. There were those who played traditional Chinese games. There were those who simply gathered to talk and laugh. But for none of them the advanced age represented the end of life. And that was brilliant.
And there were those who found their peace and joy in solitude like yet another elderly gentleman who was sitting at the pond's edge and drawing on paper what he saw. Which from his spot meant almost the garden panorama, with the pond, at least two pavilions and woods.
The garden itself was modelled after a garden in Southeast China, which basically indicates that the Summer Palace is a museum of Chinese gardens. Someone must have done a good job with it, for with its exquisite design and distinctive layout it looked outright marvellous. No wonder emperors and empresses had been coming there gladly. Of course, it too was burned down by the French and British during the Opium War. I guess local vegetation irritated them, or something
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. But fortunately, the garden was rebuilt again in 1893 by the Empress Dowager Cixi, the one who climbed up to the pinnacle of the Chinese society from the low level of a common concubine. She used the garden as her favourite angling spot. And rumour has it that every time Cixi showed up with an angling rod, eunuchs secretly dived into the water and hung live fish on her hook, to keep her in good spirits.With all those pavilions, halls, corridors and small bridges, all arranged with profusion and elegance around the lotus pond, the garden almost wouldn't let you go. It literally took the strength of the will to decide to leave it. But we had to.
The path led us to Daxi Lou, the Theatre Stage, one more thing built by Cixi, where I assume she tended to stage an opera for herself occasionally for a diversion. Even with Cixi long gone, we too nevertheless had an opportunity to witness ending minutes of some stage performance to the tune of few traditional Chinese percussion and string instruments, comprising mostly of some acrobatic whirls, leaps and dance, spruced up with an occasional high-pitched cry, which probably served the purpose of reminding us that this too was a form of opera. All was delivered in a fierce pace by a band of fearsomely masked performers, looking no more friendly than the qilin guy from the entrance gate. But if he was anything to go by, then under those scary appearances there were bound to be some friendly characters, as well
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. Which was exactly the case when a few minutes later the performance was over and they took off their multicoloured, angry-looking masks, smiling some of the nicest smiles around. Some of them were girls.And then we came to the Kūnmíng Hú or Kunming Lake. The lake itself made one of three unique areas within the palace and covered the largest part of entire complex. Some sources claim the lake is entirely man-made. But other sources say that the Kunming Lake was once a natural lake on the spot where mountain springs in the northwest of Beijing converged. However, people did start tinkering with it rather early and when the Emperor Qianlong began with construction of the Garden of Clear Ripples, the lake was expanded to its current size. So now the current lake covers nearly three quarters of the whole garden. But there are three lake islands, as well, since it was in accordance with the "three islands in one pool" principle for the design of water features in imperial gardens that they had to be built.
Most of the people were there. Or at least it appeared so. Which would be no wonder, either. Water always possesses magical powers, soothes the soul and people have always and everywhere felt that. That's why PingPing and I joined the crowd and simply pootled around, without any particular plan or aim. We were taking pictures, and PingPing did video clips, too. From the shore one could see spectacular Seventeen-Arch Bridge or Shiqikong Qiào, which connected the eastern bank and Nánhú Dăo, i.e. South Lake Island, one of the three mentioned. The bridge is the longest one inside the Palace and boasts more than five hundred delicately carved lions, all with different expressions and gestures, sitting on the white marble balusters. And on its part, the Nánhú Dăo is the largest one among the three islands in the Kunming Lake. And on top of it all, as in this palace it is clear that nothing was put in place without a particular purpose, Nánhú Dăo and Kūnmíng Hú, viewed together from the distance, adopt a form of a tortoise stretching its neck
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. Since tortoise is a symbol of longevity in Chinese culture, it all falls into place just fine.It was still relatively early, but quite a few visitors were already in the boats on the lake, taking a leisurely cruise and enjoying the Palace complex from the water. Interestingly enough, particularly compared to the day before in the Forbidden City, we foreigners appeared almost an endangered species here. Which was as well, in fact. To me, this way it all looked more authentic.
PingPing and I lazily strolled along the lake, stopping every few paces for this or that reason, but even at such a leisurely pace we soon arrived at what was the beginning of the so-called Long Corridor or Cháng Láng. It was a beautiful wooden structure, originally built in 1750 but then it suffered the same destiny as the greatest part of the compound. With its 728 metres in length, it is not only the longest structure of its kind in China but also in the world. So in 1992 Cháng Láng made it into the Guinness Book of Records as the longest corridor of the world. However, it is not only long, but also ornate, with thousands - some say more than eight thousand, some say around fourteen thousand - paintings of historical figures, landscapes, birds and flowers on its beams and ceilings. Add to it four elegant octagonal pavilions along its length, each one symbolising one season of a year, and you have a master-piece in its own right
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.Summer Palace started filling up with people and it was increasingly difficult to find your own space, not invaded by someone else every now and then. And when it is like that, circumstances simply force you onwards. Since the corridor stretches westward from the Court Area, along the north bank of the Kūnmíng Hú, at the foot of the Longevity Hill, the third scenic area inside the Summer Palace, virtually connecting them all, it came to us as the most logical option to go to that Longevity Hill.
So we turned away from the lake and went north. Thereby we first passed through the Archway of Modesty, a crowded structure with four pillars, looking anything but modest. After that we came up straight to the Gate that Dispels the Clouds, the starting point of the steep climb to the top of Wànshòu Shān or Longevity Hill. The hill itself was not way too tall. Only sixty metres or so. But the climb was very steep, often in excess of eighty percent, and quite a few people had to take frequent breaks to regain their breath.
At the bottom there is the already mentioned Gate that Dispels the Clouds or Páiyún Mén. It is followed by the Second Palace Gate and once you negotiate all that and overtake quite a few people who were climbing considerably slower than PingPing and me, you finally reach the Hall of Dispelling Clouds or Páiyún Diàn.
Built on a platform framed by white marble balusters and adorned with such assorted bronze creatures like dragons, lions - or at least they looked so to me - a phoenix and so on, Páiyún Diàn is a splendid structure with red columns and a roof covered with golden yellow tiles. Inside the Hall there is a throne which Cixi sat on once a year to celebrate her birthday. While she was sitting up on it, flanked by fans and incense burners, ministers and other lower creatures would bow and crawl below, paying her their respect
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.Anyway, Páiyún Diàn was not only a sight to see, but also a great spot to catch our own breath. So that no one thinks PingPing and I whizzed all the way up like sitting on a jet engine. We probably did negotiate the stairs a bit faster than some others, but the fact that from up there we could take in a magical view of the lake and panorama of entire Summer Palace area was a great excuse to stop for a while. And so we did.
Next to it, immediately to the left, against a spectacular steep hillside setting, there was the Kunming Lake Monument, a grand and sturdy, and yet well-proportioned column, meticulously carved out of a single piece of rock. However, for some inexplicable reason this great monument flanked on a hillside terrace by two octagonal pavilions and having another equally spectacular building behind, was off bounds for visitors right then.
Then we moved on and up towards another Palace landmark, maybe the most famed of all, the Tower of Buddhist Incense or Fóxiāng Gé. This elaborate work of classical architecture, a beautiful, sleek, three-storied, octagonal structure, is basically the centre of the Summer Palace, with all other buildings distributed symmetrically around its base. It used to be imperial worshipping tower, enshrining a Buddha made all the way back in the Ming Dynasty. The elegant and dignified statue, still there, also called Buddha with One Thousand Hands And Eyes, is five metres tall and has twelve heads and twenty-four arms. Empress Dowager Cixi burned incense and prayed in the tower on the first and fifteenth day of every lunar month.
And if Cixi could do it the past, so PingPing, a Buddhist, decided to now take some time for prayer, too, and during that time I had my fun taking pictures around
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. When she finished with her prayer, we enjoyed the panorama once again, only this time from a higher point. From here one could even see the distant Yu Quan Hill and make out the Yu Feng Pagoda through the haze on its summit. I asked PingPing if there was something she could tell me about that pagoda that I should know, but there wasn't. Now that it was so, we came to a conclusion that we had enough rest, so we could go on up.Above us, on top of the hill, now there was only Zhì Huìhăi left, or Buddhist Temple of the Sea of Wisdom. Some consider it a miniature Potala Palace, the famed palace of Lhasa in Tibet. Maybe it is really so. I've not been to Tibet yet. But either way, hardly fifty metres above the Tower of Buddhist Incense, we realised that for some reason we couldn't get up there. In other words, we arrived at the end of our ascent on the Longevity Hill. Since it was so, we took a few more pictures and headed back down to the lake.
Of course, the descent is always much faster than the ascent, so it was only a few minutes before we found ourselves back at the Kunming lakeshore. Once down there, it seemed to me that entire Beijing flocked to the Summer Palace. That's how many people were there. But it was easy to understand. It was Sunday, a day off even in China where workers' rights are defined in an entirely different way than in Europe - in spite of the official title of People's Republic - and on top of all that it was almost noon
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. Whoever wanted to come here today, and have a good and long sleep beforehand, could have done both by now. Suddenly, all this was increasingly becoming just a sightseeing, and ever less fun. At least at those most famous spots inside the Palace. But I knew I was in China. So things should be taken as they were, as a part of the whole experience.We continued along the lake and few minutes later the path led us to the famous Cixi's Marble Boat. Actually, the boat had a predecessor, as almost everything else within the palace, that was destroyed and then Cixi had it rebuilt in an imitation of western-style yachts. So whereas the first one was a true marble boat, the current one is out of marble just in part. But it was obviously no reason why the boat's current incarnation wouldn't be called marble.
"Are you for an ice-cream?" I asked PingPing on this by now hot day, noticing at a corner a refrigerator and an ice-cream vendor.
"I am!" she obviously liked the idea, so we decided to act on it straight away. PingPing chose one of those fruit ice-creams and as for me, just as usual, I picked something that contained nuts. Equipped like that, we returned to the boat, took a few pictures and then moved on. From there we decided to follow a pointer which for starters meant nothing to me. Suzhou Jie, i.e. Suzhou Street. But PingPing clearly knew where it would lead us
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. However, one could reach Suzhou Jie in two ways."Would you rather take a boat or walk there?" she asked me.
"How long would it take on foot?"
"Maybe ten minutes."
"That's not much. I would go on foot."
PingPing had no problems with walking, either. In fact, she preferred it in order to shed her "belly". Which, in truth, I couldn't see. But women in such situations see things we men never do, anyway. And when we do, then it's usually a sign that women don't care about them any more.
Anyway, belly or no belly, after some ten minutes of pleasant, brisk walk and not too demanding a climb over the west end of the Longevity Hill, we arrived at the threshold of Suzhou Jie and I finally realised what it was. In short, the way I saw it, this might have even been the highlight of my entire Summer Palace visit. It is an outright beautiful Water Town, or maybe Water Street, built on either side along the middle section of the Back Lake, full of stalls and shops, and an occasional restaurant. True, they were all tourist-oriented, but then again, even in the time when it was originally built, it was a consciously designed fake. This ancient-style street, about three hundred metres long, transports the tourist back to the mid-18th century of China, to the time when it was originally built to give the then Emperor Qianglong and his empress and concubines the experience of shopping in the Water Town
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. They wanted a place where they could pretend to go shopping as ordinary people. At that time, the eunuchs would act as clerks and shopkeepers, lending an air of realism to the experience. Today the storekeepers, shop assistants, boaters and policemen on patrol are all dressed in outfits of the Qing Dynasty.Needless to say, allies were thorough in their destruction of the Summer Palace so they destroyed Suzhou Jie, too. It was restored in 1990.
PingPing and I stayed around for quite some time. As we were neither an emperor or an empress, we felt no urge to do any shopping, but Suzhou Jie exerted a magical sort of power anyway, same as the Garden of Harmonious Interests. I assume it was again the water. Why else would people love the likes of Venice or Amsterdam? Of course, I'm caricaturing now, but water most certainly doesn't hurt their image. I'd say it only adds to it. And that's what I mean.
When we had finally taken in all we thought we could of what Suzhou Jie had to offer, we headed back across the Longevity Hill towards the lake. Along the way, we passed by the Shanxian Si, a Buddhist temple, another spiritual spot which demanded a steep climb in order to be reached. PingPing started showing first signs of exhaustion there, so we took a rest, sitting down on one of adjacent stones and watching tourists pass by or sit down for a rest like us
18 Beijing (photo by Guo Xiao Ping)
. When PingPing announced she was ready to move on, we stood up.From there on it was not difficult, because the path generally led only downwards. At one spot we stopped by for a while to watch a group of Chinese who with a ton of laughter and bunch of fun competed in rope jumping. One guy checked the time, like sixty seconds or so, and marked starts and stops, and others took their turns with the rope, seeking to do as many jumps as they could inside that one minute. All those that didn't jump did the counting, and every trip on the rope was greeted with a roaring exhilaration.
We didn't stay long enough to see the winner. Instead, we moved on and soon reached the lake again. PingPing told me she often came there with friends and then they occasionally organised picnics, a bit farther off from usual tourist attractions, which really meant a bit away from the crowd. In other words, it also meant going on westwards along the lake. She asked me if I was OK with seeing that less neat and tended part of the complex. Of course, why not? After all, it was all a part of the Summer Palace. Besides, we had by now gotten quite tired and we both wanted to sit down somewhere. It was much easier to find such a spot where there were not so many people. So we started down the Xi Di or the West Causeway.
The climate was a bit unusual
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. After we had come down to the lake, I had a feeling of passing through a different microclimate every few metres. When it was not windy, it felt like summer. When the wind picked up, it would bring the autumn along. Just so. Maybe because we were by the water. And when we passed through the woods, if it was windy at the same time, it was even quite cold.However, it didn't prevent a few characters from undressing and swimming, only in their bathing trunks, in Xi Hú, one of the adjacent lakes, as if their lives were on the line. How exactly they had reached the Xi Hú, or West Lake shore, was not entirely clear to me as the lake area around the lake, and the lake itself, was fenced off by a high wire fence, and I saw no entrance gate. But whichever way they had entered, that was a lesser feat. The much bigger one was coming out of the lake water - of which I had no idea how warm, or cold, it was - and exposing oneself so wet to the wind.
"They do this every day," PingPing said.
A bit off from there we sat on a wooden bench to muster some strength after four or five hours of almost continuous walking and have a short snack along the way. We knew the largest part of our sightseeing was now behind us and there was no need to rush anywhere. On this, west Kūnmíng Hú side there were significantly fewer people. Those who found themselves here were mostly jogging or intended to catch some fish somewhere
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.After PingPing and I had discussed music and movies over sandwiches, after she had told me the news from the cartoon studio she worked in as an editor and after we had tasted salted fried almonds Maggie had given me the night before - coming to a conclusion that they were not a patch on the money spent for them - we moved on.
As far as a typical, textbook tourist goes, almost only things worth seeing on this side of the lake were a few bridges. OK, there were a few spots where one could take pretty pictures from, with Kunming Lake and Longevity Hill in the background, but what really was worthy of an attention in its own right were only those bridges. Like Yudai Qiao or Jade Belt Bridge. An extremely arched and highly elevated structure, it was clear that its builders first and foremost had had its form and aesthetics in mind when they had designed it, and only then its functionality. Climbing the bridge and crossing the inlet almost resembled mountain-climbing. At least by its slope if not exactly by its height. Judging by the stories about imperial characters from Chinese history, I am less than persuaded that they crossed this bridge much. Unless they were carried over. But whether they did or did not, the bridge look truly great indeed. I had to hand it that.
After this one, bridges of the Mirror Bridge and Willow Bridge type followed, similar structures in a way, topped at their crowns by some sort of pavilion with the trademark roofs with upturned eaves
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. And then, maybe for the sake of symmetry, it was the turn of Xiu Yi Qiao, a bridge that closely resembles Yudai Qiao and at first sight leaves an impression as if there is no difference at all.And thereby we made a full circle. We reached the east Kunming Lake shore and now we would stay inside the Summer Palace only if we didn't feel like going out yet. But we had quite a few hours on foot behind us, with many ascents and descents, and I had one or two social obligations yet to go. So we decided to gradually call it a day, at least as far as sightseeing was in question. Even the sun was nearing the edge of the horizon, and although the Summer Palace was still full of people who showed no signs of leaving yet, the shadows lengthened considerably.
We headed towards where we had come in through, towards the East Palace Gate. But not everything went that smoothly. All at once, we bumped into a bunch of policemen and soldiers, and quite unexpectedly, everything came to a standstill. It didn't look like there had been a coup in China over the last couple of hours, or at least a new attempt of introducing democracy, like twenty years before. And particularly not that its epicentre should be inside the Summer Palace. But those forces had most certainly not been there when we had arrived. Whatever the matter was, there was a huge crowd and some kind of bottleneck in the area around the entrance - or exit - gate
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. Which was less of a wonder when we realised no one might go out.Now, as to why, that was a question we had no answer to. Everything looked peaceful and there was no indication any of us should be a hostage in the near future. Not being lazy, PingPing went up to one of the soldier boys and asked him what this whole fuss was all about. They chatted in a friendly manner for a few minutes, she thanked him with a "xiexie", and he nodded in greeting.
"What's up?" I asked.
"Some foreign delegation," she answered.
"Here? In the Palace?"
"It would seem so."
Soon everybody who was there, and there was a few hundred of us, was herded by the police and army behind a thick rope and that way entire section of the walkway along the lake was cordoned off. The Chinese were, as customary, openly curious and the vast majority was eager to find out who of the dignitaries was now there where the rest of us commoners were, as well. They all would've probably pushed as close as possible anyway, just to see who they were dealing with. I guess I wouldn't have, and I just happened to find myself there because circumstances dictated it so. But now that I was there anyway, and when I couldn't leave until the police would let us go, why not see who I had the honour of having the close encounter of third kind with?
Murmur and tension rippled through the crowd when those nearest ones sensed the foreign delegation was getting closer
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. Suddenly all the necks lengthened, each of them somehow came up with ten extra centimetres, and the Chinese, in line with their good old custom, started to jostle for a better position, lending a dose of liveliness to entire event. Quite a bit taller than the majority of local populace, I had a privilege of not having to stretch my neck in order to see something. So I could see. And what I saw was, well, hardly worth the trouble. A group of people, a few westerners - mainly men and only one or two women - accompanied by at least as many, or more Chinese, all dressed up formally in western business suits, emerged from somewhere and they all passed at a pretty safe distance from us. And went towards the East Palace Gate. There. That was all.It was some sort of anticlimax. Maybe not so much for me. I could in any event hardly wait for all this to pass, so I could go out. Some people were just happy that there was something, anything, going on, so even this much was enough to them. But there were those who clearly expected more. But there was no more.
Few minutes later they opened the East Palace Gate for the rest of us. Just in time for us to see the last sleek and shiny limousines from the motorcade leave the premises. Who exactly they were, I would never know. But it was not that important. They left, freed the gate and from my viewpoint disappeared from my life for good.
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"We had a good timing," PingPing said."True. If we had come earlier, we could've waited much longer."
This way, we got in the car, PingPing brought me rather soon to the Bagou underground station entrance and thereby we ended our appointment for today.
"What do you suggest for tomorrow?" she asked.
"What do you think about the zoo?"
"A deal! Great."
We set up a new appointment at ten in the morning next day, at the exit A of the Xizhimen underground station and our plan for tomorrow was sealed. PingPing went back home, or wherever, and I went back to the hotel.
When three trains later I finally returned to the "Red Lantern House 2", more than one hour had passed. Upon my return, I rang up Mei and told her that I had returned from the Summer Palace, so we could meet if she had time. We set an appointment at eight outside the exit C of the Xinjiekou underground station.
I had a bit of time to rest and then I went out again, so I wouldn't be late for the appointment. Mei appeared some ten minutes too late.
25 Beijing
"I'm late. Sorry," she said. But who could know when exactly the trains were going if they had to change them two or three times? Besides I was in no hurry. I told her there were no problems whatsoever.I spent the evening with her, a girl who, so it seemed, lived at the edge of existence. She was working as a waitress for a paltry salary of 1500 yuan a month in a restaurant south of the Tiān'ānmén which was digging French image. Even if the owner was obviously a Chinese. But, well, someone decided it was cool to offer French dishes and wines in the middle of Beijing. Maybe it was, who can know? When was I any authority on that? At any rate, she was working to the bones on a job that should've brought her in much more than 200 € she was receiving.
"But this is China," she told me.
I knew this was China. But I also knew that in this same China there was already a bunch of insolently rich people by any standard. And I also knew that even before the month would properly begin, she had to give away 1000 out of her 1500 yuan for lodging. Which by the way was a humble room without heating in winter. It made me sick.
"I can't afford better," she said.
"So how do you make it?"
"I eat in the restaurant every day I work
26 Beijing
. And I have shower there."Before this job, she had worked for a Belgian guy. It was a small firm with only two or three employees.
"Then the Belgian guy got sick and went to hospital."
"Here in Beijing?"
"Yes. And I paid all the expenses from my own savings. He said he would pay me back once he returned to Belgium."
"And did he?"
"Never. And he also never paid me most of the months I worked for him."
It grew dark before my eyes. I often heard the advice "don't judge". It's a wise advice, too. But I couldn't help wondering how people could do like that. How can they and then go on living with their own conscience? Sadly, some seem to be able to.
"He just sent me hundred euro once."
"And that was all?"
"Yes."
I didn't know what to say. Best nothing. For whatever I might say would be contrary to "don't judge". And I couldn't do anything about it anyway. Except ask:
"Why don't you look for a better job?"
"Who would take me? I am thirty seven."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"It has. You don't understand. This is China. This isn't Europe."
I did get that. Unfortunately, even in Europe they avoided hiring people above certain age, whichever age it was. It wasn't merely a Chinese privilege.
"But you have a university degree! I wouldn't want to look down on waitresses, but you can do much better," I said.
"I know."
"So why don't you try?"
"I lost my diploma," she said.
"Where?"
"When I was coming to Beijing."
"I am sure where you studied this problem can be solved," I said.
"I know. But I don't want to do what I studied."
"Why?"
"Because I don't like it."
"So why did you study it?"
"Because my mother wanted me to."
Hmmmm... I didn't know what to say. I felt sorry for Mei. Her story depressed me. I didn't know why. I mean, I knew why. Because she didn't have it easy. But there were many more depressing stories in this world that for some reason we still don't relate to. I didn't know why I reacted precisely to this one. Maybe because I was listening to it first hand. Some people really had a hard time. And yet, much as I understood that she was not attracted to something she had studied just because her mother had wanted it, I wasn't exactly inclined to believe that she could possibly prefer a job of a waitress in a pseudo-French restaurant for miserable 1500 yuan a month...
Upon return to the hotel, and it was past eleven, I was delivered a message from Juan, my old friend who had married in Australia. She had returned home for vacation and called me to call her back. Since I was in China myself, it was a great opportunity for us to meet.
I rang her up.
"When did you arrive?" she asked me after I had awaken her.
"The day before yesterday. Where are you?"
"With my husband's family. Heibei province."
"When are you coming to Beijing?"
"In a week or so."
She was still suffering from jet lag a bit, even if in China it is not so serious when you come from Australia as it is when you come from Europe. Besides, custom dictated that she spend some time with her husband's folks. After that she would visit her own family in Shanxi province. On her way there she would pass through Beijing.
"I'll call you towards the end of the week," I said. "By then you'll probably know when exactly you are coming here."
She agreed with that suggestion and we left it at that. And that's how my third day in China ended. By the looks of it, this was going to be a socially very busy vacation for me.
