Beijing: Jetlag and jollity! (part two)
Trip Start
Oct 27, 2007
1
5
9
Trip End
Nov 12, 2007
Beijing,
China
Monday, October 29, 2007
Beijing: Hutong (door front)
The mazy alleyways around old courtyard houses in parts of Beijing are called 'hutongs' in Chinese and are well-loved for their unique charm and atmosphere. The shortest is just ten metres long, the narrowest only forty centimetres wide whilst other contain up to twenty twists and turns!
Their history dates back eight hundred years and they are regarded by many as a window into Beijing life. A stroll through the hutongs is sure to contain numerous sights and sounds, such as old folk playing chess or cards during the day, whilst at dawn and dusk groups often gather to practice taijiquan or to sing and dance to folk songs or Peking opera arias.
My first impression is "sweet!" The area is alive with locals, not too many tourists. Our lodgings are within a hutong house that is being renovated for travellers. We enter through the main door and into a covered courtyard. Ahead of us is a series of doors, one of which is to be our door for our stay. The room itself is cosy. To call it small would be a disservice. Cat-swinging is not something that could be done in the room, but since it is cruel to swing cats, that really isn't an issue.
The bed is situated up a small flight of stairs, essentially in the roof space of the room. It is made up of a thin mattress laid on the floor with a thick duvet and a couple of pillows. Basic, yet comfortable. I must simply remember not to sit up too quickly as headroom is a little, well, in short supply.
Down the stairs in the main 'living' area, furnished with two chairs separated by a table (a traditional layout in China). There is also a small desk area in the alcove under the stairs. The bathroom is to the rear and is, thankfully, western. We had been told that we may have a room with a Chinese style toilet, but it appears that the renovations have extended as far as providing a toilet that the average westerner will be comfortable using!
I should explain for those who don't know. A Chinese toilet is, essentially, a pan (like a shower tray) set into the floor. On each side are places to put your feet. My assumption is that one would squat to poo, though having not experienced it, I find it hard to work out how you don't end up with poo on your clothes.
As an aside, if you're ever in a public toilet in China that has western bowls fitted, look out for footprints on the toilet seat. This is a sign that a Chinese person has used the toilet but is conditioned to using the pan version and is used to squatting!
Xiaojing leaves us to freshen up. I have a poo in the traditional western way but make the mistake of flushing my toilet paper away. Apparently, the paper is meant to be placed in the bin but I didn't know this and, as a result, block the toilet. Ooops!
Once we are freshened up, Laura and I sit in the courtyard and take in the friendly atmosphere of our lodgings. The place is run almost singelhandedly by a young lady called YangZi. She flits around, taking care of everything and always offers a friendly smile. She has some friends who pop by to help out every now and then and they are all very friendly towards us too. I think that this is going to be a very nice place to stay.
Motoring madness!
A short while later, Xiaojing rejoins us having purchased our train tickets to Shanghai for us.
Our introduction to Beijing will consist of the following:
1. learning how to use the taxis in the city
2. learning how to navigate the metro system
3. learning how to cross the road without getting killed
I jest not. In the short time we have been in Beijing, I have observed the following:
1. all drivers are nutters
2. all cyclists are nutters
3. the green cross code does not exist - crossing the road is a matter of life and death
In the USA, I believe it is OK to turn right on a red light, but I'm not sure if that works for a pedstrian crossing.
In Beijing, it doesn't matter. Road users can turn right on a red light irrespective of whether the predestrian crossing is green or not. To that end, crossing the road involves keeping an eye out in every conceivable direction, running quickly, stopping suddenly and a lot of childish laughter at the silliness of it all!
It doesn't take us long to master this bit although I fear I will soon tire of it too!
Taxis are easy if you can get the driver to understand where you wish to go. A bi-lingual map, with Chinese characters, is invaluable here if your grasp of pronounciation is as bad as mine is. Another useful tip is, if you're a nervous passenger, sit in the back seat and close your eyes. The roads look scary enough as a pedestrian. As a passenger in the front seat of a taxi, they are positively frightening!
We are told that using a taxi can be expensive and we are shocked to see that our journey to the metro station costs 12 yuan. At the present exchange rate, this is around 80p. Ouch!
I shouldn't mock, and indeed I don't. 80p to a native Chinese who has never experienced the outsie world is a lot of money. But still - 80p!
The metro is even cheaper, costing 2 yuan for any journey. Pennies! To travel on a clean, well run transport system! Where did the UK go so wrong?!
Tian'anmen Square and more
Tian'anmen Square: Arrow Tower
At Tian'anmen Square, Xiaojing shows us the Zhengyangmen (Zhengyang Gate), one of the old city gates and the Arrow Tower across the road. No sooner has she done this than Laura is off taking about a billion photos, as is her way. From the gate, we walk past the Great Hall of the People, Mao's Memorial and the Monument to the People's Heroes. It is a bright, clear day, a little chilly in the breeze but otherwise warm. At least, it is for us. Being used to the much warmer summers, today is a cold one for Xiaojing!
Tian'anmen Square: Sculpture
At the north end of the square, we look accross the road toward the Forbidden City and the imposing image of Mao TseTung (or Mao ZeDong if you prefer) hanging over the main entrance. We need to cross the road, so use the subway to do so. At each side of the subway stands a table and a few guards. It seems that people are randomly searched here. This will explain why we've been told to carry our passports with us at all times. This is our first experience of the stereotypically Chinese Communist way, although on this occasion we are not stopped even though the guards stare at us.
From the other side of the subway, we walk past the front of the Forbidden City, stopping briefly to take more photos and also to have our photo taken with some Chinese folk. With China being such a huge country, and internal travel only recently becoming something that ordinary folk can do, many people have not seen a westerner before. To them, we are a novelty, something to tell the folks back home about and now some of them have pictures to prove it!
We head to the metro station and along to the Military Museum stop. This is not our intended destination though, for across the road is a giant sundial built to commemorate the millenium. We elect not to go inside the park and all the way up the steps to the sundial, but instead walk around the perimeter. This was more a consideration of time rather than lack of interest in the feature.
After this, we headd back to the hotel, collected some bits and pieces and hailed a taxi to the home of Xiaojing's parents.
A veritable feast!
Xiaojing's parents live in what I can best describe as a gated community. The entrance has its own security guard who waves us through. Once inside, the place looks like a western urban development, leafy and clean. The houses and apartment blocks are huge, though not overwhelmingly tall as in other areas of the city.
Heading up a flight of steps and to the front door, we are greeted warmly by Xiaojing's parents. Xiaojing gives us a tour of the house, set on three levels. If you have ever seen the MTV show 'Cribs', this is the sort of place you might see featured. but instead of flashy celebrities showing off what they bought with huge amounts of cash for doing, well, nothing of any worth, this home is owned by hard working people enjoying the fruits of their labours.
As well as Xiaojing's parents, her sister and brother-in-law are also here along with their child, Xiaojing's niece. She has a cheeky look in her eye and a big, kiddie smile. For as much as I normally dislike being around children, this little girl is an amusing creature and I actually quite enjoy being in her company!
We sit down to eat, before us a veritable smorgasbord of local delicacies - minced pork balls covered in rice; spicy prawns; a salad made up of potato, pear and banana; red bean spring rolls and so much more.
We pick away, trying everything out and, despite the language barrier, conversation flows smoothly form topic to topic. At one point, I have a little trouble grabbing something with my chopsticks. Xiaojing's father heads into the kitchen to get me a fork, but I am determined not to be beaten and my perseverance pays off! The fork remains next to my plate, unused for the rest of the evening.
Once we have eaten our fill, we head to the lounge where Xiaojing's mum breaks into a large fruit, similar to a grapefruit but not as bitter. After hacking her way in and peeling the thick skin away, she hands a piece of the fruit to Laura and myself and we casually pick bits off and eat them. Well, I eat most of mine but a few of the bits pop out of my hand and onto the floor - tricky little buggers!
After more chat and some taking of photos, itis time to leave. Laura and I are driven to the metro station and embark on our first solo journey back to our lodgings. At the ticket office, I say "liang jia", which produces a smile from the young lady in the booth. OK, so perhaps my pronounciation is a little off, or maybe she detects a hint of nervousness in my voice (in case I get the tones completely wrong and inadvertantly insult her mother). Either way, she understands my request and issues two tickets.
At our destination, we decide to walk to the hotel. Xiaojing had told us it was a long way and that getting a taxi would be quicker, but in fact the hotel is only a ten minute walk from the station and, by walking, we get to see the area at night. At one point, we see two men, one of whom is clearly very drunk and upset about something. Could he have just split up with a girlfriend? Or perhaps lost her in a card game? Who knows. The odd thing is, it feels very safe walking around this area late at night. It isn't the tidiest area (although it is being given a facelift, possibly on account of the 2008 Olympics), but it is friendly and, as much as I hate to use the word, authentic.
Once in our room, we collapse on the bed, tired and stuffed full of good food. Jetlag is setting in now and we crash out...
