Counting down the minutes and hours now until my flight leaves Beijing Thursday afternoon...its hard to believe that just 6 months ago I was sitting in the passenger window of my first Beijing taxi watching the apartments of Wangjing fly by in an orange haze of winter smog on my way to the hutong hotel where I would stay for my first five days in China.
Now its July 29th and I'm trying to pack my stuff home, cramming Chinese local food specialties between t-shirts purchased at Nanluoguxiang, and wondering if my Mao lighters will pass through baggage screening this time.
The last few days have been a whirl of goodbyes, riding the subway across Beijing and back to my pinfang, to see some of the Tsinghua students and professor I met up at Wudaokou, having lunch with another friend, going out to the west third ring road to see my former professor at Capital Normal University, and then over today to a mall near the CBD to go over the final survey report I produced for the Global Heritage Fund in Pingyao with the site director Han Li. Tonight after having circumnavigated the various extremities of the Beijing subway system, I was ready for collapsing in my comfortable little bed, but though my body was tired my mind was filled with the memories of the past few months that are beginning to replay themselves like a reel in my mind accompanied by Green Day's "I Hope you Have the Time of Your Life" playing in the background as it was sung at my Bar Mitzvah service by my hip new-age fusion cantor.
Earlier today I awoke to take the subway to the far northern outskirts of town to get a glimpse at Orange County, Beijing: the Chinese version of my suburban but apparently oh-so hip home county, a veritable piece of southern california suburbia in the fields north of Beijing (more to come on that later) home to the people who "got rich first" in this dizzying economic boom.
Right now, I can't imagine what it will be like to step off the plane in Socal after six months abroad. Will it be a harder adjustment than moving to China? Will I have reverse culture shock? Whow knows? But what I do know at this point is that the first meal I plan to have upon arrival will be a big fat juicy In N Out Burger, animal style.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Hutong Rain, Hutong Life
I am sitting in my new pingfang, or ground-level dwelling near Dongsishitiao on a lazy, muggy Beijing July 5th, recovering from last night's July 4th binge beach party at nearby Vics, and I hear a loud clap punctuating the still life of our tiny neighborhood. Then a huge gust of wind rattles the sheet metal rooves of nearby dwellings and seconds later huge droplets of rain begin to pound our roof.
My neighbor, an 80+ year old hutong denizen, brings his clothing in from outside and secures the loose pieces of wood propped up against his door. It was a little bit of a shock when I felt the wind, as I didn't know if we were experiencing a Mongolian sand storm, or if my small little dwelling could survive such a thrasing. But these weather-worn buildings and their tenacious residents have seen plenty before, so I figured there would be no problem.
Overhead, a flock of swallows soars away seeking refuge somewhere...
I am loving my new hutong life, even if it will only last for the next few weeks until I return to the US. Not living in my luxurious international dorm or dingy youth hostels, I can at last feel like I am a resident of Beijing, if only a temporary one. The area I am living in is probably the most convenient area I could have hoped for. A ten-minute walk east is the expat nightlife and shopping area of Sanlitun and Gongti. Ten minutes west, on the other side of the second ring road is the old inner city neighborhood of Dongsi, full of well-preserved hutongs and siheyuan. Plus, the Dongsishitiao subway is 5 minutes away, as is a Starbucks (where this afternoon I had a hangover-curing, albeit overpriced coffee frappucino and foccaccia sandwich.
Last night, after hanging out at Vics for a few hours with a friend from my study abroad program whose Chinese business partners had purchased a private table at the club, and after talking and dancing for a while with a very friendly girl I met, I made the short and convenient, although a bit wobbly, trek of shame back to my house. Overhead the sky was already lightening and Beijing's laotaitais were out in the streets walking around and sweeping their door entrances. A special moment for a fresh laowai like me but just another day in the long history of this northern capital.
And now it seems, the rain is done.
My neighbor, an 80+ year old hutong denizen, brings his clothing in from outside and secures the loose pieces of wood propped up against his door. It was a little bit of a shock when I felt the wind, as I didn't know if we were experiencing a Mongolian sand storm, or if my small little dwelling could survive such a thrasing. But these weather-worn buildings and their tenacious residents have seen plenty before, so I figured there would be no problem.
Overhead, a flock of swallows soars away seeking refuge somewhere...
I am loving my new hutong life, even if it will only last for the next few weeks until I return to the US. Not living in my luxurious international dorm or dingy youth hostels, I can at last feel like I am a resident of Beijing, if only a temporary one. The area I am living in is probably the most convenient area I could have hoped for. A ten-minute walk east is the expat nightlife and shopping area of Sanlitun and Gongti. Ten minutes west, on the other side of the second ring road is the old inner city neighborhood of Dongsi, full of well-preserved hutongs and siheyuan. Plus, the Dongsishitiao subway is 5 minutes away, as is a Starbucks (where this afternoon I had a hangover-curing, albeit overpriced coffee frappucino and foccaccia sandwich.
Last night, after hanging out at Vics for a few hours with a friend from my study abroad program whose Chinese business partners had purchased a private table at the club, and after talking and dancing for a while with a very friendly girl I met, I made the short and convenient, although a bit wobbly, trek of shame back to my house. Overhead the sky was already lightening and Beijing's laotaitais were out in the streets walking around and sweeping their door entrances. A special moment for a fresh laowai like me but just another day in the long history of this northern capital.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
All the Dude Ever Wanted Was a Foot Massage
It was a slow evening in Suzhou and my parents and brother all decided to go to sleep early. I decided to explore the town at night, and began walking alongside darkened canals, ending up in a deserted area near a temple that seemed to be a commercial area but was empty at such a late hour. Then a man driving a kind of small cart, came up and offered to take me to a massage parlor. I knew from the outset this was sketchy, and indeed there was no subtlety in his promising me, "xiaojie" or prostitutes. I told him I only had 28RMB on me, and only wanted a foot massage. He assured me I could get this there if that was all I wanted.
I decided to hop onboard, if not out of boredom, perhaps out of curiosity. He took me all around town, and I reasoned that even if I didn't end up getting a massage I would have at least been taken on a 2 kuai tour of Suzhou at night, in a cart mind you.
Upon arrival at the establishment, I wasn't reassured about the legitimacy of the promised foot massage parlour. I knew these women were probably prostitutes but I still held out hope that I might be able to get a massage. I was seated in a private room, cheaply decorated with trashy fake leather, a flat screen TV, and a bowl of fruit sitting miserably on a plexiglass table, echoing of those Dutch still life paintings which also seemed to suggest the wasted fruits of a debauched lifestyle.
Five minutes into conversation with so-called masseuse (who claimed to be attending Suzhou University) over some room temperature watermelon, I was offered a beer. I asked how much for one bottle, and was told 30 RMB, 2 RMB more than I had on me. I told the girl, she went outside, and a few moments later a portly Chinese man entered, whom I could only assume was the pimp.
He seemed to suggest to me that I hand over the money I had, and I said I only had 20 RMB and just wanted a massage. I offered to leave immediately, and told him I had only been in the room for five minutes and had consumed all but one slice of an overripe watermelon. He seemed to want to inspect my person for hidden money, but finally he agreed to take the 20 kuai and even offered me to keep the rest for my taxi ride home. What a generous pimp he was.
So I left, having been too cheap to afford a massage or a prostitute...and thinking that the story I had was worth the 20 RMB I had spent for watermelon and five minutes of a prostitutes time. I ended up handing over the 8 kuai to the same man who had brought me here. On the ride home, he kept telling me to come back tomorrow, "you can have sex for only 100 RMB, bring your brother!" I decided that I had seen enough of the dirty underside of China's rapid economic development, and politely refused.
I fell asleep bemused, thinking Larry David would be very proud of me indeed.
I decided to hop onboard, if not out of boredom, perhaps out of curiosity. He took me all around town, and I reasoned that even if I didn't end up getting a massage I would have at least been taken on a 2 kuai tour of Suzhou at night, in a cart mind you.
Upon arrival at the establishment, I wasn't reassured about the legitimacy of the promised foot massage parlour. I knew these women were probably prostitutes but I still held out hope that I might be able to get a massage. I was seated in a private room, cheaply decorated with trashy fake leather, a flat screen TV, and a bowl of fruit sitting miserably on a plexiglass table, echoing of those Dutch still life paintings which also seemed to suggest the wasted fruits of a debauched lifestyle.
Five minutes into conversation with so-called masseuse (who claimed to be attending Suzhou University) over some room temperature watermelon, I was offered a beer. I asked how much for one bottle, and was told 30 RMB, 2 RMB more than I had on me. I told the girl, she went outside, and a few moments later a portly Chinese man entered, whom I could only assume was the pimp.
He seemed to suggest to me that I hand over the money I had, and I said I only had 20 RMB and just wanted a massage. I offered to leave immediately, and told him I had only been in the room for five minutes and had consumed all but one slice of an overripe watermelon. He seemed to want to inspect my person for hidden money, but finally he agreed to take the 20 kuai and even offered me to keep the rest for my taxi ride home. What a generous pimp he was.
So I left, having been too cheap to afford a massage or a prostitute...and thinking that the story I had was worth the 20 RMB I had spent for watermelon and five minutes of a prostitutes time. I ended up handing over the 8 kuai to the same man who had brought me here. On the ride home, he kept telling me to come back tomorrow, "you can have sex for only 100 RMB, bring your brother!" I decided that I had seen enough of the dirty underside of China's rapid economic development, and politely refused.
I fell asleep bemused, thinking Larry David would be very proud of me indeed.
Exploring Jiangnan
From Beijing my family and I flew to Hangzhou, renowned for its beautiful West Lake. We were also able to make the journey (described above) to nearby Suzhou and Tongli, two canal towns typical of the Yangzte River Delta region, also known as Jiagnan.
The Jiangan (meaning south of the Yangtze River) Region, during Ming and Qing times, was one of the wealthiest regions in China, made even more so by the construction of the Grand Canal that linked Beijing to Suzhou and allowed for a flow of goods and taxes from this fertile region to the dry capital. Both Hangzhou and Suzhou are still imbued with a stately natural elegance that can be felt most strongly in the gardens, such as those around West Lake in Hangzhou, and the Humble Administrator's Garden in Suzhou. As we explored the gardens and greenery of the West Lake, I could almost imagine the wondrous and mysterious city that Marco Polo described in his famous travel records.
Tongli, a small village outside Suzhou, is more completely preserved and is now a kind of tourist village. We rented a boat to show us around, and also happened upon the China Sex Museum (more to come later), oddly placed within this tiny town.
The Jiangan (meaning south of the Yangtze River) Region, during Ming and Qing times, was one of the wealthiest regions in China, made even more so by the construction of the Grand Canal that linked Beijing to Suzhou and allowed for a flow of goods and taxes from this fertile region to the dry capital. Both Hangzhou and Suzhou are still imbued with a stately natural elegance that can be felt most strongly in the gardens, such as those around West Lake in Hangzhou, and the Humble Administrator's Garden in Suzhou. As we explored the gardens and greenery of the West Lake, I could almost imagine the wondrous and mysterious city that Marco Polo described in his famous travel records.
Tongli, a small village outside Suzhou, is more completely preserved and is now a kind of tourist village. We rented a boat to show us around, and also happened upon the China Sex Museum (more to come later), oddly placed within this tiny town.
A River Scene in Tongli
Travel Advice
Since the last post in May, I have traversed this wide country north to south and back again, first journeying with my parents and brother (who came to visit me in Beijing at the end of my spring term) to Hangzhou, Suzhou, Guilin, Hong Kong (via Guangzhou and Shenzhen), Macao, then back to the mainland with two of my best friends to Nanjing (via Shenzhen once again), and finally back to Beijing.
I have seen a lot in the last month, and endured a few hardships, mostly travel related. I thought, before blogging about the great things we saw, I would bitch about said hardships just a little bit and offer some advice for future travelers who might be in similar positions.
Advice Piece #1: Double Check the Departure Time on your Train Ticket
It was a balmy evening in Hangzhou when I arrived at the main train station with plenty of time to spare for our 8:55 departure, or so I thought. All was fine and good until I took a look at the departure board in the central hall, no sign of any trains to nearby Suzhou, our intended destination. Upon speaking with one of the clerks, I realized we were not actually one hour early, but eleven hours late. I seemed to have overlooked one small but important detail: 8:55 means 8:55...in the morning. Damnit military time!
My family, who not speaking any Chinese, were mostly dependent on me for the trip, were a little annoyed at first, but soon saw the situation very humorously. Those who know me are aware of my inability to get places on time. On this occasion, we were not just a few minutes late, like I usually was, but rather 11 hours.
In the end, we went downstairs and I negotiated (or rather had no choice but to accept) a 700 RMB cab ride to Suzhou, two hours away. The journey, after having to switch taxis (our first one broke down in Hangzhou) went smoothly. Our jovial driver played some Chinese music and laughed from time to time. We actually arrived in Suzhou earlier than our planned arrival by the train that actually never existed.
Nevertheless, next time I buy train tickets in China, or most countries for that matter, I'll make sure to double check the time.
Advice #2: Don't Use Expedia.com
We got to the airport in Guilin as early as we got to the train station in Suzhou, but upon trying to check in to our flight to Hong Kong (with a stopover in Guangzhou) we were told there was no record of our ticket on said flight. We had booked through expedia so we called their customer service hotline, and were given the usual customer service treatment, which is to say none at all. "Um sorry, we know you booked tickets through our website and are now stranded in a faraway place, but there is nothing we can do about it, please file a report later. thank you." Apparently, Expedia, who had earlier switched our nonstop flight from Guilin to Hong Kong because it was "cancelled" had actually failed to put us on a flight at all. We were stranded in the Guilin Airport...which brings us to our next point.
Advice # 3: Avoid the Guilin Airport
We spent a few lovely hours at beautiful Guilin's airport. By the time we left on our flight to Guangzhou aboard Shenzhen airlines, this airport and its amazingly helpful fuwuyuan had become a punching bag for all of our complaints and anger. First, the women at the airlines desks were either completely incompetent or unwilling to help. Second, I was forced to discard three Mao lighters from my CHECKED luggage. I had been able to pack these lighters on flights all around China, and finally at this airport I was stopped by an over-zealous bag handler. At this point we were all stressed, including myself, due to our cancelled flights and so I let loose the full arsenal of my Chinese curse words upon him, including a shabi here and there, and definitely some tamades. I'm sure by the time we left, with all of our massive American-sized luggage pieces on board, the people at the airport had all their stereotypes of Americans confirmed. Then, just as we were about to board our plane, we made the poor choice of dining at the overpriced airport restaurant that charged us 18 RMB for a sprite, about six times the normal cost.
Advice # 4 Don't try to Cross into Hong Kong on foot
After our direct flight to Hong Kong had been cancelled, and we were unable to board our rescheduled flight due to Expedia's fuck ups, we were forced to improvise a little:
Four tickets from Guilin to Guangzhou, Shenzhen Airlines: 2000RMB
One private bus trip from Guangzhou Airport to Shenzhen: 900 RMB
One bus from Shenzhen-Hong Kong border to Kowloon, Hong Kong: 36 HKD
Crossing the footbridge between HK and Shenzhen with 6 pieces of luggage in a monsoon, then going through customs twice, getting on a bus, being forced to get off again with all our luggage to be "checked" for swine flu, and then finally arriving: Priceless
Advice #5: Don't Stay in the Chungking Mansions
The first few nights in Hong Kong were spent in the comfortable Eaton Hotel with my family. When they returned to the US, I moved into the budget accommodations down Nathan Road at the infamous Chungking Mansions, a melting pot of Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Asians, and white backpackers, a crumbling concrete warren infused with a lingering smell of curry. I stayed here for about a week, waiting for my friends to join me. I had been warned by Internet sites about the dangers of staying here but for most of the stay there were no problems. On the final night here, my friends and I sleeping in the same room, we were had.
My friend Matt at 8:00 AM: "Where's my iphone?"
Me, five minutes later: "Where's my wallet?"
My friend Bruce, five minutes later, "Where's my camera?"
In the middle of the night thieves had infiltrated our secure defenses and managed to grab an item of value from each of us. Luckily I still had my passport, computer, iphone, and computer, all of which were stored under my bed. Our stuff had been rearranged, our room rifled through...these people, whoever they were knew what they were doing. Point being: don't ever stay in the Chungking Mansions.
I have seen a lot in the last month, and endured a few hardships, mostly travel related. I thought, before blogging about the great things we saw, I would bitch about said hardships just a little bit and offer some advice for future travelers who might be in similar positions.
Advice Piece #1: Double Check the Departure Time on your Train Ticket
It was a balmy evening in Hangzhou when I arrived at the main train station with plenty of time to spare for our 8:55 departure, or so I thought. All was fine and good until I took a look at the departure board in the central hall, no sign of any trains to nearby Suzhou, our intended destination. Upon speaking with one of the clerks, I realized we were not actually one hour early, but eleven hours late. I seemed to have overlooked one small but important detail: 8:55 means 8:55...in the morning. Damnit military time!
My family, who not speaking any Chinese, were mostly dependent on me for the trip, were a little annoyed at first, but soon saw the situation very humorously. Those who know me are aware of my inability to get places on time. On this occasion, we were not just a few minutes late, like I usually was, but rather 11 hours.
In the end, we went downstairs and I negotiated (or rather had no choice but to accept) a 700 RMB cab ride to Suzhou, two hours away. The journey, after having to switch taxis (our first one broke down in Hangzhou) went smoothly. Our jovial driver played some Chinese music and laughed from time to time. We actually arrived in Suzhou earlier than our planned arrival by the train that actually never existed.
Nevertheless, next time I buy train tickets in China, or most countries for that matter, I'll make sure to double check the time.
Advice #2: Don't Use Expedia.com
We got to the airport in Guilin as early as we got to the train station in Suzhou, but upon trying to check in to our flight to Hong Kong (with a stopover in Guangzhou) we were told there was no record of our ticket on said flight. We had booked through expedia so we called their customer service hotline, and were given the usual customer service treatment, which is to say none at all. "Um sorry, we know you booked tickets through our website and are now stranded in a faraway place, but there is nothing we can do about it, please file a report later. thank you." Apparently, Expedia, who had earlier switched our nonstop flight from Guilin to Hong Kong because it was "cancelled" had actually failed to put us on a flight at all. We were stranded in the Guilin Airport...which brings us to our next point.
Advice # 3: Avoid the Guilin Airport
We spent a few lovely hours at beautiful Guilin's airport. By the time we left on our flight to Guangzhou aboard Shenzhen airlines, this airport and its amazingly helpful fuwuyuan had become a punching bag for all of our complaints and anger. First, the women at the airlines desks were either completely incompetent or unwilling to help. Second, I was forced to discard three Mao lighters from my CHECKED luggage. I had been able to pack these lighters on flights all around China, and finally at this airport I was stopped by an over-zealous bag handler. At this point we were all stressed, including myself, due to our cancelled flights and so I let loose the full arsenal of my Chinese curse words upon him, including a shabi here and there, and definitely some tamades. I'm sure by the time we left, with all of our massive American-sized luggage pieces on board, the people at the airport had all their stereotypes of Americans confirmed. Then, just as we were about to board our plane, we made the poor choice of dining at the overpriced airport restaurant that charged us 18 RMB for a sprite, about six times the normal cost.
Advice # 4 Don't try to Cross into Hong Kong on foot
After our direct flight to Hong Kong had been cancelled, and we were unable to board our rescheduled flight due to Expedia's fuck ups, we were forced to improvise a little:
Four tickets from Guilin to Guangzhou, Shenzhen Airlines: 2000RMB
One private bus trip from Guangzhou Airport to Shenzhen: 900 RMB
One bus from Shenzhen-Hong Kong border to Kowloon, Hong Kong: 36 HKD
Crossing the footbridge between HK and Shenzhen with 6 pieces of luggage in a monsoon, then going through customs twice, getting on a bus, being forced to get off again with all our luggage to be "checked" for swine flu, and then finally arriving: Priceless
Advice #5: Don't Stay in the Chungking Mansions
The first few nights in Hong Kong were spent in the comfortable Eaton Hotel with my family. When they returned to the US, I moved into the budget accommodations down Nathan Road at the infamous Chungking Mansions, a melting pot of Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Asians, and white backpackers, a crumbling concrete warren infused with a lingering smell of curry. I stayed here for about a week, waiting for my friends to join me. I had been warned by Internet sites about the dangers of staying here but for most of the stay there were no problems. On the final night here, my friends and I sleeping in the same room, we were had.
My friend Matt at 8:00 AM: "Where's my iphone?"
Me, five minutes later: "Where's my wallet?"
My friend Bruce, five minutes later, "Where's my camera?"
In the middle of the night thieves had infiltrated our secure defenses and managed to grab an item of value from each of us. Luckily I still had my passport, computer, iphone, and computer, all of which were stored under my bed. Our stuff had been rearranged, our room rifled through...these people, whoever they were knew what they were doing. Point being: don't ever stay in the Chungking Mansions.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Expo Mania!
As Beijing was wild with excitement and anticipation for last year's Olympics, Shanghai is preparing in the same way for next year's international exposition. They have a furry mascot, whom I initially thought looked like a tooth but it turns out is actually supposed to represent the Chinese character ren 人, meaning person or in this sense humanity. They've got billboards plastered all over the city advertising Better City Better Life, echoing of the Olympics' One World One Dream or New Olympics New Beijing. Hell, they're even tearing down a large area of old housing on the riverbank south of the city center to create a massive exposition park...sound familiar?
The Chinese are really taking to the culture of internationalism and international events: trade forums, Olympics, expos, etc. But what seems to be the case is that more often than not the local residents end up suffering at the expense of impressing the rest of the world.
But hey, this girl above (taken last weekend at the Shanghai Urban Planning Museum's exhibit on the Expo) seems pretty captivated by the model of China's pavillion at the Expo, which interestingly enough is based on the traditional wood bracket design of the very Chinese buildings that have been leveled across the country for the type of economic modernization and globalization celebrated by events like the Olympics and the Expo...
The Chinese are really taking to the culture of internationalism and international events: trade forums, Olympics, expos, etc. But what seems to be the case is that more often than not the local residents end up suffering at the expense of impressing the rest of the world.
But hey, this girl above (taken last weekend at the Shanghai Urban Planning Museum's exhibit on the Expo) seems pretty captivated by the model of China's pavillion at the Expo, which interestingly enough is based on the traditional wood bracket design of the very Chinese buildings that have been leveled across the country for the type of economic modernization and globalization celebrated by events like the Olympics and the Expo...
Shanghai Dreaming
Two views of Shanghai, one the obligatory bund photo, the other in Yu Gardens...
Shanghai is a slice of Europe in China and when I was there I didn't feel like I was in an exotic Eastern country...this is true in many places in China but in Shanghai especially so.
Highlights: surveying the smoggy skyline from WFC, world's tallest building (until the Burj Dubai opens), eating xiaolongbao dumpling amongst the crowds of Yuyuan Bazaar, wandering the few remaining alleys of the old city in the shadow of nearby Pudong, visiting the site where the Communist Party of China was founded, club-hobbing (with a girl from Kazakhstan and two guys from Germany and Holland) until 6 AM ending up at a sketchy techno place called Dragon Club filled with druggies, riding the world's only maglev to the airport (5 min)....Shanghai is quite a town. But I'm glad I decided to study in Beijing--at least I feel like I'm in China there. I hope in ten years time I can say the same thing about Beijing...
But its good to know that there is a place in China where one can go to indulge all of ones desires and material wants, and all of ones yearnings for life at home. In many ways Shanghai seemed more relaxed than Beijing, the people not necessarily friendlier but less formal, not having to live under the constant eye of Zhongnanhai and not emburdened with the same weight of history and national pride that one sometimes feels while in Beijing.
PS: I absolute love this picture (taken in Yu gardens)
Shanghai is a slice of Europe in China and when I was there I didn't feel like I was in an exotic Eastern country...this is true in many places in China but in Shanghai especially so.
Highlights: surveying the smoggy skyline from WFC, world's tallest building (until the Burj Dubai opens), eating xiaolongbao dumpling amongst the crowds of Yuyuan Bazaar, wandering the few remaining alleys of the old city in the shadow of nearby Pudong, visiting the site where the Communist Party of China was founded, club-hobbing (with a girl from Kazakhstan and two guys from Germany and Holland) until 6 AM ending up at a sketchy techno place called Dragon Club filled with druggies, riding the world's only maglev to the airport (5 min)....Shanghai is quite a town. But I'm glad I decided to study in Beijing--at least I feel like I'm in China there. I hope in ten years time I can say the same thing about Beijing...
But its good to know that there is a place in China where one can go to indulge all of ones desires and material wants, and all of ones yearnings for life at home. In many ways Shanghai seemed more relaxed than Beijing, the people not necessarily friendlier but less formal, not having to live under the constant eye of Zhongnanhai and not emburdened with the same weight of history and national pride that one sometimes feels while in Beijing.
PS: I absolute love this picture (taken in Yu gardens)
The Ford of Heaven
I know its been quite a while, I've been quite busy here in the Middle Country...but I thought I would return to the blogosphere by posting some pictures of Shanghai and reflecting on my recent weekend trip to China's financial center (via Tianjin), a brief but packed trip...
Tianjin:
Darkness whizzes by my window as my train speeds south to Shanghai, the financial capital of China and the glittering metropolis which I have heard and seen so much of. Like the Emperor on his southern inspection tour I first journeyed from Beijing to Tianjin, the ford of heaven, this time via China’s fastest conventional high speed train rather than an imperial procession. We reached speeds of up to 300 km/hr and zipped through the soggy flat green countryside between Tianjin and Bejing, dotted here and there with smoke spewing factories, villages, every inch of land cultivated, in intensive agricultural or industrial use.
It was beginning to sprinkle when I disembarked in Tianjin and took a cab to Wudadao, where I walked around the stately, leafy streets of a former European-dominated area where wealthy Europeans built homes. I felt like I had left China for good, and had landed either in America or in Europe. Brick and stucco residences graced the street, most with a historical plaque detailing their preservation status and significance. I tried putting my entire suitcase/backpack on my shoulders but this proved a cumbersome system, and I felt like a pack animal. I ended up having to schlep my bag around the streets of Tianjin but only for a few hours. I walked into a strange building featuring odd art pieces all around it which turned out to be a sort of private antiquities museum also featuring a restaurant and known as the “Eatable Museum” I went next door to find something cheaper and ended up eating at Cheng Gui’s western food restaurant where I actually had quite a decent fried chicken with ham and cheese, vegetable soup, and rice, and moderately priced for western food. After stuffing myself, listening to a Britishman talk business in the restaurant with his Chinese colleagues, I left.
I took a taxi to Jiefanglu, one of the main streets in Tianjin’s Americanesque downtown, where neoclassical and neo-Baroque former bank buildings graced every block of a quiet pedestrian street near the river. I decided Tianjin was about as American as any city I’d seen in China. Its scale was more manageable than Beijing’s and it was laid out like an American city, with a downtown area near a river, its buildings a mix of styles ranging from the turn of the century to the present.
I had my quick sojourn in Tianjin planned out perfectly so that I ended up back at the train station, crossing the Hai River by a clunky iron footbridge that reminded me of something from the Mississippi. Across the river from downtown was the train station, built around a large plaza snug against the river. Tianjin was a booming city, a rather modest metropolis compared with Beijing, but altogether, I decided, a much finer city from what I saw, than from the horrendous descriptions of industrial waste and decay that I had heard elsewhere.
The waiting hall of Tianjin’s train station is massive, and upon entering I felt like for sure this was the harbinger of China’s future role as a global leader. Every semi-important city it seemed had a brand new transport hub that was capable of handling millions. The high speed trains that pulled out of Beijing’s Southern Station (equally massive and one of four other massive Beijing stations) arrived in Tianjin every half hour.
On the train, where I unfortunately am stuck with a back breaking upper berth, I chatted with a Chinese family (two sisters and one of their middle school boys) for quite some time, every so often being reminded how good my Chinese is, and trying to think of ways to throw in grammar patterns that I just studied. Fifteen minutes ago the lights were turned off so I am sitting here in the dark aisle of the compartment typing, trying to make myself tired enough so I can fall asleep in my 6’ x 3’ cell of luxury.
…So I will await my arrival in Shanghai as my southern inspection tour continues.
Tianjin:
Darkness whizzes by my window as my train speeds south to Shanghai, the financial capital of China and the glittering metropolis which I have heard and seen so much of. Like the Emperor on his southern inspection tour I first journeyed from Beijing to Tianjin, the ford of heaven, this time via China’s fastest conventional high speed train rather than an imperial procession. We reached speeds of up to 300 km/hr and zipped through the soggy flat green countryside between Tianjin and Bejing, dotted here and there with smoke spewing factories, villages, every inch of land cultivated, in intensive agricultural or industrial use.
It was beginning to sprinkle when I disembarked in Tianjin and took a cab to Wudadao, where I walked around the stately, leafy streets of a former European-dominated area where wealthy Europeans built homes. I felt like I had left China for good, and had landed either in America or in Europe. Brick and stucco residences graced the street, most with a historical plaque detailing their preservation status and significance. I tried putting my entire suitcase/backpack on my shoulders but this proved a cumbersome system, and I felt like a pack animal. I ended up having to schlep my bag around the streets of Tianjin but only for a few hours. I walked into a strange building featuring odd art pieces all around it which turned out to be a sort of private antiquities museum also featuring a restaurant and known as the “Eatable Museum” I went next door to find something cheaper and ended up eating at Cheng Gui’s western food restaurant where I actually had quite a decent fried chicken with ham and cheese, vegetable soup, and rice, and moderately priced for western food. After stuffing myself, listening to a Britishman talk business in the restaurant with his Chinese colleagues, I left.
I took a taxi to Jiefanglu, one of the main streets in Tianjin’s Americanesque downtown, where neoclassical and neo-Baroque former bank buildings graced every block of a quiet pedestrian street near the river. I decided Tianjin was about as American as any city I’d seen in China. Its scale was more manageable than Beijing’s and it was laid out like an American city, with a downtown area near a river, its buildings a mix of styles ranging from the turn of the century to the present.
I had my quick sojourn in Tianjin planned out perfectly so that I ended up back at the train station, crossing the Hai River by a clunky iron footbridge that reminded me of something from the Mississippi. Across the river from downtown was the train station, built around a large plaza snug against the river. Tianjin was a booming city, a rather modest metropolis compared with Beijing, but altogether, I decided, a much finer city from what I saw, than from the horrendous descriptions of industrial waste and decay that I had heard elsewhere.
On the train, where I unfortunately am stuck with a back breaking upper berth, I chatted with a Chinese family (two sisters and one of their middle school boys) for quite some time, every so often being reminded how good my Chinese is, and trying to think of ways to throw in grammar patterns that I just studied. Fifteen minutes ago the lights were turned off so I am sitting here in the dark aisle of the compartment typing, trying to make myself tired enough so I can fall asleep in my 6’ x 3’ cell of luxury.
…So I will await my arrival in Shanghai as my southern inspection tour continues.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Kunming, enroute to Beijing
It's been quite a while since I've last checked in (what a trite blogger refrain) and as I sit in the lobby of the anywhere Haishi Hotel in Kunming, I thought I'd post to save myself from boredom as I await tomorrow's flight back to Beijing after a long and extensive spring break trip through Sichuan and Yunnan provinces. My favorite part was Chengdu, its pandas, nearby giant buddha, hot pot, leafy streets, temples, and fun-loving locals who we partied with on our second night in town, and from which my throat has not yet recovered--i guess chain smoking a pack of cigarettes wasn't such a good idea.
But now I'm in Kunming and at a hotel close to the airport for my three hour flight. Yunnan was beautiful, its rice-paddied hills speckled with white walled villages. Its two historic towns we visited Dali and Lijiang were picturesque and interesting albeit both completely touristic-ified and slightly less authentic for it. In Dali I got to visit a truly beautiful temple complex situated on the slopes of mountains and with views of the lake below. In Lijiang I met one of the 8 remaining Dongba script masters, and received a written scroll of goodwill from him.
Pictures are soon to follow after I get back to my comfortable dorm room. Zai jian for now!!
But now I'm in Kunming and at a hotel close to the airport for my three hour flight. Yunnan was beautiful, its rice-paddied hills speckled with white walled villages. Its two historic towns we visited Dali and Lijiang were picturesque and interesting albeit both completely touristic-ified and slightly less authentic for it. In Dali I got to visit a truly beautiful temple complex situated on the slopes of mountains and with views of the lake below. In Lijiang I met one of the 8 remaining Dongba script masters, and received a written scroll of goodwill from him.
Pictures are soon to follow after I get back to my comfortable dorm room. Zai jian for now!!
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
The Bus Ride from hell... to Chengde
This past weekend I went to Chengde with some friends from my program. Chengde is a city home to the Qing emperor's old summer palace and several impressive Buddhist temples dating from the 18th century. To get there we took a bus..the bus ride from hell.
Getting settled into our bus at Liuliqiao Station, everything seems fine--the bus is rather comfortable. Annoyance number one, however, is made apparent to us when we get going: Beijing traffic sucks. It's a Saturday morning and traffic is worse than the 405 at rush hour on Beijing's not 1st, not 2nd, not 3rd, but 4th ring road. Black Audis, Volkswagen, Nissans with strange names, and the ubiquitous Jinbei mianbaoche (colloquial nickname meaning bread car) all clog the road and change 4 lanes in an instant. Believe what you've heard: Chinese roads are dangerous.
An hour later we are still in Beijing, somewhere on the northern outskirts of the city, just beyond the 4th ring road on the Jingmi Expressway. Now, let me tell you about the Jingmi Expressway. It's basically a country road, like any you would find in the United States, two lanes and undivided. But it's clogged with myriad buses, pedestrians, bicyclists, men and women peddling odd vehicles burdened with towering stacks of recycled plastic, horses pulling carts, and motorcyclists. All of this developing-world hubbub is directly adjacent to the recently built Airport Expressway that passes above our heads. I wonder, "why don't we use this road?"
The next outrage occurs soon as the bus pulls over to the side of the road and remains there for the next twenty minutes. A few people get off to pee, get back on, and I think "ok we can leave now." No. The bus driver has decided to have a long and apparently engrossing conversation with a friend who happens to be sitting on the side of the road. Twenty minutes later he comes back on the bus to inform us that the bus is broken and we must switch to another bus.
It's another fifteen minutes on this bus until we actually depart. We clank along this busy two lane road, past the hodgepodge northern fringe of Beijing home to exclusive expat compounds evocative of American suburbia, impromptu car-repair shops, factories of multinational corporations, and horses.
The rest of the ride consisted of us clanging along this bumpy highway, while a perfectly good, brand-new high speed expressway ran directly next to us. I cursed the idiocy of the driver, which turned into more general puzzlement. I wondered, "why is it that this 5,000 year old civilization that invented gunpowder, typing, and fireworks is unable to figure out how to operate buses.
The scheduled arrival time of 2:00 turned into 3:30. And of course it could have been worse. But when we finally got off in Chengde, nestled within the brown mountains of the hibernating Chinese countryside, we were rewarded with a visit to the beautiful Puning Si temple, an active Buddhist temple. We were also able to stay in a hotel in the temple itself. The next day we visited the Emperor's summer resort park (Bishushanzhuang), and another temple modelled on the Potala Palace in Lhasa, Tibet, designed to accomodate visiting Tibetan emissaries. The trip was worth it, but next time I think we'll take a train.
Getting settled into our bus at Liuliqiao Station, everything seems fine--the bus is rather comfortable. Annoyance number one, however, is made apparent to us when we get going: Beijing traffic sucks. It's a Saturday morning and traffic is worse than the 405 at rush hour on Beijing's not 1st, not 2nd, not 3rd, but 4th ring road. Black Audis, Volkswagen, Nissans with strange names, and the ubiquitous Jinbei mianbaoche (colloquial nickname meaning bread car) all clog the road and change 4 lanes in an instant. Believe what you've heard: Chinese roads are dangerous.
An hour later we are still in Beijing, somewhere on the northern outskirts of the city, just beyond the 4th ring road on the Jingmi Expressway. Now, let me tell you about the Jingmi Expressway. It's basically a country road, like any you would find in the United States, two lanes and undivided. But it's clogged with myriad buses, pedestrians, bicyclists, men and women peddling odd vehicles burdened with towering stacks of recycled plastic, horses pulling carts, and motorcyclists. All of this developing-world hubbub is directly adjacent to the recently built Airport Expressway that passes above our heads. I wonder, "why don't we use this road?"
The next outrage occurs soon as the bus pulls over to the side of the road and remains there for the next twenty minutes. A few people get off to pee, get back on, and I think "ok we can leave now." No. The bus driver has decided to have a long and apparently engrossing conversation with a friend who happens to be sitting on the side of the road. Twenty minutes later he comes back on the bus to inform us that the bus is broken and we must switch to another bus.
It's another fifteen minutes on this bus until we actually depart. We clank along this busy two lane road, past the hodgepodge northern fringe of Beijing home to exclusive expat compounds evocative of American suburbia, impromptu car-repair shops, factories of multinational corporations, and horses.
The rest of the ride consisted of us clanging along this bumpy highway, while a perfectly good, brand-new high speed expressway ran directly next to us. I cursed the idiocy of the driver, which turned into more general puzzlement. I wondered, "why is it that this 5,000 year old civilization that invented gunpowder, typing, and fireworks is unable to figure out how to operate buses.
The scheduled arrival time of 2:00 turned into 3:30. And of course it could have been worse. But when we finally got off in Chengde, nestled within the brown mountains of the hibernating Chinese countryside, we were rewarded with a visit to the beautiful Puning Si temple, an active Buddhist temple. We were also able to stay in a hotel in the temple itself. The next day we visited the Emperor's summer resort park (Bishushanzhuang), and another temple modelled on the Potala Palace in Lhasa, Tibet, designed to accomodate visiting Tibetan emissaries. The trip was worth it, but next time I think we'll take a train.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Hutong Life
Since I have been living in a modern dormitory building for a month now I thought I'd reflect on my first few days in Beijing living in a courtyard hotel in a hutong, or alleyway, neighborhood.
Before 1949 hutong neighborhoods covered most of Beijing's old walled inner city. After the Communists came to power, Mao began ordering many of them leveled and replaced with new Soviet-style housing blocks. Though most still remained even up through the 1990's, the era of rampant commercial real-estate speculation has finally turned the hutong into an endangered urban species.
A hutong is basically a lane running east to west, lined with traditional siheyuan, courtyard homes. Traditionally, Beijing's urban fabric consisted entirely of these homes patterned across the city like bricks and subdivided by hutongs. Today, there are several preservation districts but even these special restrictions against 拆-ing (chai) meaning destroy, are sometimes not enough to prevent developers with important connections from tearing down neighborhoods and evicting residents, who are often old and powerless people.
Hutong life is a glimpse into the past, quite different from the modern lifestyle that most Beijingers enjoy. There are no cars, residents must use public toilets, and often no heating except for coal burning. But despite the lack of creature comforts, hutongs are living communities. In the alley, local kids play soccer under the watch of the elderly, women buy their groceries, and men play Chinese checkers on the stoop of their home. Often inaccurately called slums, hutongs are more accurately low-rent neighborhoods that have suffered from years of neglect and with some upgrading could be turned into very comfortable modern environments. Hopefully the authorities will realize this and decide that preserving the old environments is essential to preserving the soul of the city.
Before 1949 hutong neighborhoods covered most of Beijing's old walled inner city. After the Communists came to power, Mao began ordering many of them leveled and replaced with new Soviet-style housing blocks. Though most still remained even up through the 1990's, the era of rampant commercial real-estate speculation has finally turned the hutong into an endangered urban species.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
A Massage and Mao Kitsch
A couple days ago, I went to get a massage at a place around the corner. We ended up paying 20 bucks for about 2 hours of full-body massaging. I went with a friend from my program and they put us in the same room. My friend had an older masseuse, while I had a younger girl. Both looked like they were probably former peasants from the provinces in Beijing to make a life.
There was a lot of banter and talk between the two masseuses( I think this is the plural form), and I for the most part had no idea what was going on. Then I feel my masseuse slip something into my hand. When I had turned over and had the chance to examine it, I realized it was a small red pin featuring Mao's portrait.
At this point I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with this, but I assumed it was some sort of flirtatious token. Then towards the end of the massage I find out, after asking my friend, that the girl wanted my phone number.
I said I didn't know my phone number, but my friend told it to her anyways. The next day I received a bunch of text messages but couldn't read them since my phone is unable to display characters. Thus, this was the last I heard from her.
But...I still have that piece of Mao kitsch as a little souvenir from my first massage in China.
There was a lot of banter and talk between the two masseuses( I think this is the plural form), and I for the most part had no idea what was going on. Then I feel my masseuse slip something into my hand. When I had turned over and had the chance to examine it, I realized it was a small red pin featuring Mao's portrait.
At this point I didn't know what the hell I was supposed to do with this, but I assumed it was some sort of flirtatious token. Then towards the end of the massage I find out, after asking my friend, that the girl wanted my phone number.
I said I didn't know my phone number, but my friend told it to her anyways. The next day I received a bunch of text messages but couldn't read them since my phone is unable to display characters. Thus, this was the last I heard from her.
But...I still have that piece of Mao kitsch as a little souvenir from my first massage in China.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Beijing Snow
Soccer field and basketball courts below my dorm building covered in snow, third ring road behind them.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Beijing Rule #1: Don't go to Maggie's
A couple nights ago I went out to Sanlitun, Beijing's hopping expat bar area, with a few guys from my program. It was thursday and it wasn't too crowded but we ended up hopping around a few bars and ending up at one place called Bar Blu, which was having a ladies night.
A girl made eye contact with me and came over to sit at our table. She ended up speaking Japanese, which one of the guys knew as well. We decided, although she was probably a little older than us, she was smart enough not to be a prostitute. We danced a little with her and then she suggested we go with her to another place. We agreed and soon we were in a cab headed to some place we knew not where.
The cab pulled up next to an old style Chinese building with a round entrance gate and a neon sign reading Maggies. Once inside, my other fellow classmate was dancing with this woman. It was at this point that the other guy I was with, who had grown up in Beijing and knew the city's bars well, told me that we had been taken to Beijing's most notorious hooker bar.
Indeed, upon realization, I noticed we were the youngest ones there by about 10 years. The room was filled with grey-haired white guys and young Chinese women, many of whom were probably xiaojie, literally Ms. but colloquially prostitute. The girl who took us was probably one too. And sure enough, she disappeared into the mix after realizing we weren't going to purchase her services.
We left, realizing we had been tricked but not too bad, and it was worth the story. But not we know what someone has in mind if they suggest going to Maggies.
A girl made eye contact with me and came over to sit at our table. She ended up speaking Japanese, which one of the guys knew as well. We decided, although she was probably a little older than us, she was smart enough not to be a prostitute. We danced a little with her and then she suggested we go with her to another place. We agreed and soon we were in a cab headed to some place we knew not where.
The cab pulled up next to an old style Chinese building with a round entrance gate and a neon sign reading Maggies. Once inside, my other fellow classmate was dancing with this woman. It was at this point that the other guy I was with, who had grown up in Beijing and knew the city's bars well, told me that we had been taken to Beijing's most notorious hooker bar.
Indeed, upon realization, I noticed we were the youngest ones there by about 10 years. The room was filled with grey-haired white guys and young Chinese women, many of whom were probably xiaojie, literally Ms. but colloquially prostitute. The girl who took us was probably one too. And sure enough, she disappeared into the mix after realizing we weren't going to purchase her services.
We left, realizing we had been tricked but not too bad, and it was worth the story. But not we know what someone has in mind if they suggest going to Maggies.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Beijing Kaoya (Roast Duck)
A couple nights ago a woman who was a tourguide for my parents took me to a Peking Duck Restaurant, Bianyifang. So far, Peking Duck (Beijing Kaoya), has been my favorite food in Beijing.
This famous specialty, originally the special secret of the emperor's imperial kitchen, is made by roasting the duck to a crisp and inserting steaming hot water into the duck to separate the skin, which is then further roasted to a delicious fatty crisp, and bathed in sweet sauces.
It is served in a pancake, with scallions, hoisin plum sauce and cucumbers. In the Chinese opinion, the crispy skin is the best part of the duck. After the main meat was served, the deep fried bones and skin were brought out, which i took one bite of and politely put aside.
This famous specialty, originally the special secret of the emperor's imperial kitchen, is made by roasting the duck to a crisp and inserting steaming hot water into the duck to separate the skin, which is then further roasted to a delicious fatty crisp, and bathed in sweet sauces.
It is served in a pancake, with scallions, hoisin plum sauce and cucumbers. In the Chinese opinion, the crispy skin is the best part of the duck. After the main meat was served, the deep fried bones and skin were brought out, which i took one bite of and politely put aside.
The View from My Dorm
I'm just getting settled into my new lodgings at Beijing Capital Normal University, my home for the next four months. I am living in what is called the International Culture Plaza, or the college of international education.
Having stayed in a hutong hotel for the past few days, moving to CNU, located on the western part of Beijing, is quite a contrast. The building is sleek and modern and the room is quite adequate, if a little spare. But many of you knew what a dump I was living in last semester at Berkeley and I can say that my new Chinese home is definitely an upgrade.
Having stayed in a hutong hotel for the past few days, moving to CNU, located on the western part of Beijing, is quite a contrast. The building is sleek and modern and the room is quite adequate, if a little spare. But many of you knew what a dump I was living in last semester at Berkeley and I can say that my new Chinese home is definitely an upgrade.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Great Wall, Pictures Coming Soon...
Da jia hao (hello everyone)...on Monday I went to see the Great Wall with a woman who was the tourguide for my parents when they came to China.
The Wall was pretty amazing to finally see in person but was a little smaller than I expected (I guess it usually is with those things). It was windy and cold, and there were fewer tourists than usual (according to my guide). In some places the wall ascends the hill so steeply that the steps are nearly vertical. In other sections, peasant women chased after me trying to sell me shirts and shalls. I ended up getting a shirt reading I have climbed the Great Wall for 20 RMB, costing a little more than 3 dollars. I felt pretty good about this buy because the vendor started at 100 RMB.
After the great wall, we had some lunch in a jade factory serving food that up until now has been the closest eating experience to U.S. Chinese food, which is much different than Chinese food in China. They had kung pao chicken, dumplings, and rice. Most restaurants I've been to have menus filled with pictures of strange concoctions of all size and shapes..towers of sliced duck liver, exotic fish items. At the roast duck restaurant later that day, in addition to the duck, they served us the deep fried skin and bones of the duck after we finished the main meat. I tried it but found it unappetizing.
The Ming Tombs were our afternoon excursion. We saw the tomb of Yongle, the Ming emperor who seized power from his nephew and founded Beijing as we know it. Then we saw the sacred way, a path lined with stone animal and soldier sentries.
To cap off the day Brenda (my guide) took me to Bianyifang roast duck restaurant where we had a Peking duck sliced and diced table side and served on plates with duck head ornaments. The duck, eaten with hoisin plum sauce, scallions, cucumbers, and rice pancakes, remains my favorite Beijing dish so far.
Bye for now. And to state again, pictures will be coming soon. I move into my CNU Capital NormalUniversity dorm today and will hopefully be able to set up my computer on the internet.
The Wall was pretty amazing to finally see in person but was a little smaller than I expected (I guess it usually is with those things). It was windy and cold, and there were fewer tourists than usual (according to my guide). In some places the wall ascends the hill so steeply that the steps are nearly vertical. In other sections, peasant women chased after me trying to sell me shirts and shalls. I ended up getting a shirt reading I have climbed the Great Wall for 20 RMB, costing a little more than 3 dollars. I felt pretty good about this buy because the vendor started at 100 RMB.
After the great wall, we had some lunch in a jade factory serving food that up until now has been the closest eating experience to U.S. Chinese food, which is much different than Chinese food in China. They had kung pao chicken, dumplings, and rice. Most restaurants I've been to have menus filled with pictures of strange concoctions of all size and shapes..towers of sliced duck liver, exotic fish items. At the roast duck restaurant later that day, in addition to the duck, they served us the deep fried skin and bones of the duck after we finished the main meat. I tried it but found it unappetizing.
The Ming Tombs were our afternoon excursion. We saw the tomb of Yongle, the Ming emperor who seized power from his nephew and founded Beijing as we know it. Then we saw the sacred way, a path lined with stone animal and soldier sentries.
To cap off the day Brenda (my guide) took me to Bianyifang roast duck restaurant where we had a Peking duck sliced and diced table side and served on plates with duck head ornaments. The duck, eaten with hoisin plum sauce, scallions, cucumbers, and rice pancakes, remains my favorite Beijing dish so far.
Bye for now. And to state again, pictures will be coming soon. I move into my CNU Capital NormalUniversity dorm today and will hopefully be able to set up my computer on the internet.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
In Beijing !!! (在北京）
My first full day in China is coming to a close as fireworks go off in the hutong outside my hotel. It has been an eventful day and thankfully the sky cleared from yesterday's horribly orange pollution and the temperature was surprisingly balmy.
As we landed yesterday I was struck by the thick orange miasma of smog enveloping us, and in the massive new airport terminal designed by Norman Foster surprised by the apparent lack of crowds. This wasn't the China I had imagined. But on the drive from the aiport, having met by driver who held a sign reading STOKOLS but couldn't speak English, the tall and repetetive aparment blocks lining the expressway seemed more familiar. We drove along the third ring road, through Beijing's new CBD, passing the famous CCTV tower designed by Rem Koolhaas and the towering Guomao tower. We drove through Tiananmen and I caught my first glimpse of Mao, the great helmsman's portrait staring at me from above the gate.
My hotel is located in a hutong just off tiananmen and I will be staying here until I move into my dorm at Capital Normal University. After walking around the hutongs at night (creepy but fascinating) I got a bite to eat at a restaurant alone. I ordered a bowl of noodles and some sesame buns but I could barely finish either. This cost 40 RMB (about 5 bucks) and then I had my first encounter with a public toilet in a nearby hutong. This was one of the most foul-smelling places I have ever been in.
Today was my first full day in China. I met a friend from Berkeley, Eric, in Tiananmen and we made our way to my hotel and then towards the Temple of Heaven (Tiantan). This is Beijing's largest temple complex and features a beatiful blue-tiled altar, and at the other end a circular stone platform that is supposedly the nexus of heaven and earth. The park was crowded, with Chinese kids and old grandparents, families, all jostling their way. After tiantan, we went back into the chaos of the city and took a cab to Hongqiao, an electronics cum everything imaginable market. I was able to get a SIM card here with the help of Eric's bargaining. Then I took the subway (ditie) back to Qianmen (near Tiananmen) and walked to my hotel. I stopped off for a janbing on the way back. Janbing is essentially a doughy pancake wrapped with sauce, fried stuff, and scallions. It was 3.5 RMB and made to order.
The fact that I am actually in China still amazes me and I haven't fully adjusted yet. But with my phone set up, my subway card in my wallet, and my knowledge of the city streets increasing, I am already feeling a little more acclimated. I have taken 200+ pictures, and as soon as I can connect my laptop to internet I will post them.
Thanks for reading...zai jian ! (see you again)
As we landed yesterday I was struck by the thick orange miasma of smog enveloping us, and in the massive new airport terminal designed by Norman Foster surprised by the apparent lack of crowds. This wasn't the China I had imagined. But on the drive from the aiport, having met by driver who held a sign reading STOKOLS but couldn't speak English, the tall and repetetive aparment blocks lining the expressway seemed more familiar. We drove along the third ring road, through Beijing's new CBD, passing the famous CCTV tower designed by Rem Koolhaas and the towering Guomao tower. We drove through Tiananmen and I caught my first glimpse of Mao, the great helmsman's portrait staring at me from above the gate.
My hotel is located in a hutong just off tiananmen and I will be staying here until I move into my dorm at Capital Normal University. After walking around the hutongs at night (creepy but fascinating) I got a bite to eat at a restaurant alone. I ordered a bowl of noodles and some sesame buns but I could barely finish either. This cost 40 RMB (about 5 bucks) and then I had my first encounter with a public toilet in a nearby hutong. This was one of the most foul-smelling places I have ever been in.
Today was my first full day in China. I met a friend from Berkeley, Eric, in Tiananmen and we made our way to my hotel and then towards the Temple of Heaven (Tiantan). This is Beijing's largest temple complex and features a beatiful blue-tiled altar, and at the other end a circular stone platform that is supposedly the nexus of heaven and earth. The park was crowded, with Chinese kids and old grandparents, families, all jostling their way. After tiantan, we went back into the chaos of the city and took a cab to Hongqiao, an electronics cum everything imaginable market. I was able to get a SIM card here with the help of Eric's bargaining. Then I took the subway (ditie) back to Qianmen (near Tiananmen) and walked to my hotel. I stopped off for a janbing on the way back. Janbing is essentially a doughy pancake wrapped with sauce, fried stuff, and scallions. It was 3.5 RMB and made to order.
The fact that I am actually in China still amazes me and I haven't fully adjusted yet. But with my phone set up, my subway card in my wallet, and my knowledge of the city streets increasing, I am already feeling a little more acclimated. I have taken 200+ pictures, and as soon as I can connect my laptop to internet I will post them.
Thanks for reading...zai jian ! (see you again)
Thursday, February 5, 2009
About to Embark...
February 5th, 2009 9:30 AM, San Francisco Airport, International Terminal
In around 12 hours I will be in Beijing, capital of the People’s Republic of China, ancient capital of Chinese dynasties, northern capital, etc. I have no idea what awaits me there, besides a whole lot of people, noise, pollution, and yes Chinese food. For the first five days before my program at Capital Normal University begins, I am on my own. I will be staying in a hutong, 胡同, an alleyway neighborhood that was once the fabric of the city.
Having just purchased my economist, whose title reads ominously Asia’s Shock, I am ready to go. I am ready for this adventure, after months of planning, anticipation, excitement, and nerves. I look forward to checking in again once I land in China…
In the sleek, new modern terminal of San Francisco airport I am waiting for my flight to Beijing and counting the wrinkled old red RMB notes bearing Mao’s stoic countenance I just received from a currency trader. I will be in China for six months, studying abroad, traveling, and possibly interning. This is a trip of many firsts: first time to Asia, first time living in a foreign country, first time living in a large city, first time traveling completely by myself.
This morning I awoke after getting merely 3 hours of sleep and my parents drove me to the airport. As I got out of the car into the terminal, a fiery red glow lit up the eastern sky as the sun rose--I being the night owl that I am rarely see such a sight. Then, echoing Mao, I proclaimed, "The East is red." I then declared the Chinese proverb, which I thought quite fitting for this occasion, "The journey of 1000 li begins with a single step." I said a sad goodbye to my folks, went through security, and was on my way to San Francisco for the first leg of the journey.
In around 12 hours I will be in Beijing, capital of the People’s Republic of China, ancient capital of Chinese dynasties, northern capital, etc. I have no idea what awaits me there, besides a whole lot of people, noise, pollution, and yes Chinese food. For the first five days before my program at Capital Normal University begins, I am on my own. I will be staying in a hutong, 胡同, an alleyway neighborhood that was once the fabric of the city.
Having just purchased my economist, whose title reads ominously Asia’s Shock, I am ready to go. I am ready for this adventure, after months of planning, anticipation, excitement, and nerves. I look forward to checking in again once I land in China…
Saturday, January 17, 2009
China Musings 1: The Pagoda Skyscraper
In exactly three weeks I will be in Beijing, northern capital, formerly Peking. Once a great imperial capital, now a great Olympic city and growing megalopolis which is home to 17 million. I intend to write a blog when I am in China but in the meantime I will be publishing a series of short pieces on various topics of interest to me. One of my main interests in China is architecture and urban planning. Apparently, it is also one of the Chinese's main interests.
Since opening up to the rest of the world in the late 1970's, China has witnessed an economic miracle, modernization, and also the eradication of much of its cultural heritage and replacement with western ideas and practices, especially in the fields of architecture. Of course, to be fair, this vitriolic rejection of historic or "feudal" practices began in earnest under the Communists and reached fever pitch during the horrors of the cultural revolution of the 1960's in which old temples, palaces, and cultural artifacts and practices were destroyed and banned.
But the architecture of contemporary China and the processes of urban development of the capitalist age are now taking full effect. Most of the architecture currently going up in China is being built to compete with western standards, and often times is designed by the most accomplished American and European architects. Rem Koolhaas's mammothly totalitarian CCTV tower in Beijing, Hertzog and De Meuron's iconic "Bird's Nest' olympic stadium, and Lord Norman Foster's sprawling Beijing International Airport terminal are some of the most noted recent projects to go up in Beijing. Of the three mentioned above, only the airport, which Foster allegedly designed with traditional Chinese colors red and yellow and feng shui in mind, makes any attempt to achieve even the slightest contextual continuity with traditional Chinese architecture. The bird's nest and the CCTV tower, while striking and revolutionary, lack any cultural context or explanation. The recent Chinese National Theater, like the stadium possesing an evocative nick name ("the egg"), seems to go even further, its curvilinear pod alighting like an alien ship in the direct heart of Beijing, next to Tiannamen Square and the Forbidden City. It replaced several hutong neighborhoods as well. (above)
There are countless other examples of incongruous and ridiculous modern architecture and I don't presume to argue that all new buildings should evoke the traditions of the past, or use traditional forms and symbols. Oftentimes the desire to reconcile modern function with historical form ends up with the faux kitsch of Disneyland or the brutal ugliness of Nazi architect Albert Speer's grand neoclassical promenades built for Hitler's troop parades. However, I find it particularly fascinating and even inspiring when architects manage to achieve a striking modern building while at the same time incorporating traditional forms and symbols as well. There are several examples of this in China, some achieving a harmonious synthesis while some fall more in the category of kitsch. Usually, in my opinion, the most successful and graceful modern buildings have been the pagoda skyscrapers. These towering structures, the two most iconic of which are Shanghai's Jin Mao tower and Tapei, Taiwan's Taipei 101 (top, and directly above respectively).
I like these two buildings because they seem to me to exemplify a harmonious balance between traditional vocabulary and modern construction technology. The pagoda form is rei-magined for the twentieth century, and the result is something new. Of course, there is only so much one can do with the pagoda form, but in reality most skyscrapers follow some kind of design that tapers as it rises. The Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, and many others follow this pattern for obvious structural reasons. The egg, while striking, seems dramatically out of place in Beijing. The CCTV tower and Bird's Nest are certainly culturally out of place but since their location is outside the traditional city limits of Ming and Qing Dynasty Beijing, their idiosyncratic forms are less damaging to the Beijing cityscape and can be appreciated for their futuristic beauty in the context of the modern cityscape making up most of Beijing outside the second ring road (which replaced the old city walls in the 1950's).
While cultural preservation in design is often hard to reconcile with the needs of a modern society, the pagoda skyscraper is one way to achieve this. The pagoda skyscraper can also be seen in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia where the Petronas Towers (once the world's tallest buildings) evoked the stuppa form of Southeast Asian Buddhist architecture, and formed a striking backdrop for Sean Connery and Angelina Jolie to climb on in the movie Entrapment. Certainly traditional, even religious architectural forms can be versatile, functional, striking, and even sexy. In Tiananmen Square in the heart of Beijing Mao is probably rolling over in his cryogenically frozen maosoleum seeing that religion (the opium of the people) and capitalism have come together to produce something new.
Since opening up to the rest of the world in the late 1970's, China has witnessed an economic miracle, modernization, and also the eradication of much of its cultural heritage and replacement with western ideas and practices, especially in the fields of architecture. Of course, to be fair, this vitriolic rejection of historic or "feudal" practices began in earnest under the Communists and reached fever pitch during the horrors of the cultural revolution of the 1960's in which old temples, palaces, and cultural artifacts and practices were destroyed and banned.
But the architecture of contemporary China and the processes of urban development of the capitalist age are now taking full effect. Most of the architecture currently going up in China is being built to compete with western standards, and often times is designed by the most accomplished American and European architects. Rem Koolhaas's mammothly totalitarian CCTV tower in Beijing, Hertzog and De Meuron's iconic "Bird's Nest' olympic stadium, and Lord Norman Foster's sprawling Beijing International Airport terminal are some of the most noted recent projects to go up in Beijing. Of the three mentioned above, only the airport, which Foster allegedly designed with traditional Chinese colors red and yellow and feng shui in mind, makes any attempt to achieve even the slightest contextual continuity with traditional Chinese architecture. The bird's nest and the CCTV tower, while striking and revolutionary, lack any cultural context or explanation. The recent Chinese National Theater, like the stadium possesing an evocative nick name ("the egg"), seems to go even further, its curvilinear pod alighting like an alien ship in the direct heart of Beijing, next to Tiannamen Square and the Forbidden City. It replaced several hutong neighborhoods as well. (above)
I like these two buildings because they seem to me to exemplify a harmonious balance between traditional vocabulary and modern construction technology. The pagoda form is rei-magined for the twentieth century, and the result is something new. Of course, there is only so much one can do with the pagoda form, but in reality most skyscrapers follow some kind of design that tapers as it rises. The Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, and many others follow this pattern for obvious structural reasons. The egg, while striking, seems dramatically out of place in Beijing. The CCTV tower and Bird's Nest are certainly culturally out of place but since their location is outside the traditional city limits of Ming and Qing Dynasty Beijing, their idiosyncratic forms are less damaging to the Beijing cityscape and can be appreciated for their futuristic beauty in the context of the modern cityscape making up most of Beijing outside the second ring road (which replaced the old city walls in the 1950's).
While cultural preservation in design is often hard to reconcile with the needs of a modern society, the pagoda skyscraper is one way to achieve this. The pagoda skyscraper can also be seen in Kuala Lumpur Malaysia where the Petronas Towers (once the world's tallest buildings) evoked the stuppa form of Southeast Asian Buddhist architecture, and formed a striking backdrop for Sean Connery and Angelina Jolie to climb on in the movie Entrapment. Certainly traditional, even religious architectural forms can be versatile, functional, striking, and even sexy. In Tiananmen Square in the heart of Beijing Mao is probably rolling over in his cryogenically frozen maosoleum seeing that religion (the opium of the people) and capitalism have come together to produce something new.
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