An American Griswold In China, Day 11-13: Dodging Loogeys and Bulldozer Blades

by: David Sirota

Mon Jul 20, 2009 at 09:00

To see the full series in sequence as it is released, go here.  

DAY 11: A Nation of Loogey Hockers

We're now in Beijing, having hopped a three-hour, cross-country flight yesterday afternoon. Our first full day in the Chinese capital began with breakfast at the Dongfang Hotel, which is directly south of Tiananmen Square. It is a 12-floor building located directly south of Tiananmen Square across a big new east-west thoroughfare that splits it off from a neighborhood of hutongs (old alleyways). The hotel has been taken over by a huge American teen tour, and therefore we are probably moving hotels.

We met Mike for the number 5 bus, which took us to the southeast corner of Tiananmen Square. Here's a 17-second video clip of a 360 degree view of the square:

The open expanse of the square has, unfortunately, been obstructed, cut into thirds by Mao's tomb (a huge columned mausoleum where the dictator's fat rotting body is daily taken out of a freezer and put on display for visitors) and by the Monument to the People's Heroes (an obelisk deliberately flipping a communist party bird at the front gate of the Forbidden City's imperial countenance). What once was a square that Mao hoped could hold a billion people is now more like the statue-marked National Mall. That's on purpose - after the 1979 and 1989 Tiananmen Square protests, the Communist Party had an architectural interest in making it harder for people to organize into big crowds.

Of course, before heading over to Tiananmen, Mike reminded us that many (and maybe most) Chinese citizens know little to nothing about the Tiananmen uprisings - the 1989 one which experts estimate resulted in roughly 3,000 government murders of dissidents (the Chinese government insists - rather ludicrously - that only about 150 people died, which most objective analysts say is a lie). That may sound unbelievable to American ears - how, you ask, could any Chinese citizen not know what happened at Tiananmen, their own 9/11? Sadly, the better question is how could they?

The Chinese government strictly controls and censors the media and education system in China (thus, for instance, we heard almost nothing about the ongoing riots in China while we were there), meaning that if you are a Chinese citizen and didn't witness the massacre or talk in-person (and thus, in secret) to someone who witnessed it, you probably didn't hear much about it - and if you did hear anything, what heard was likely the official propaganda from the government: namely, that there weren't hundreds of thousands of protestors asking for democracy, but instead just a handful of evil terrorists who started killing Chinese soldiers and were subsequently fought off by the brave Communist Party.

Appreciating the privilege (and really is a privilege of our freedom) of knowing the real history, we walked into the square, past armed security guards who check Chinese people's bags before they are allowed in. They didn't check our bags, probably because we're Western foreigners and - unlike courageous domestic dissidents - pose no potential political threat to the Communist Party.

Then it was to the north front of Tiananmen (pictured behind me and Emily at right), through Tiananmen gate, and into the Forbidden City, where the pre-Communist Chinese Emperors lived for centuries. The city is one of those places you have to go see, and you want to see, but you know will not be what you'd call "enjoyable," both because of the unrelenting sun and crowds. Most of our time in there was spent moving northward through the center of the perfectly cemetrical city, from huge pagoda gateway to huge pagoda gateway.

We got the English audio box to get descriptions of what we were seeing, but much of the central area felt more like a mosh pit than a national monument - and since Chinese have very few manners, it was a particularly violent mosh pit that forced me to suppress my Philadelphia roots. That was made easier by the intimidating Chinese soldiers exercising in the Forbidden City, pictured left.

Our trip into the Forbidden City reminded us of another feature of China - this is a nation of loogey hockers. If you hear someone coughing, you will - within 5 seconds - hear them scratchily gurgle their throat and then fire out a mucus ball. This is perfectly acceptable here - and in a boisterous crowd like we saw inside the Forbidden City, the walls echoed with the grotesque sounds of snot rockets.

It only became more pleasant when we straggled off to some of the city's side alleys. These were truly awesome - huge 10 meter high scarlet walls, surrounded by bright yellow pagoda roofs (yellow being the color of the Emperor).

After about 2 and a half hours in the city (the central gate pictured at right), we boarded a subway and met Mike (who was off at a meeting) in the Dongzhimen section of town for lunch at an ultra-modern Mall. It was noodle soup again, though we also found a Chinese Auntie Anne's.

With the temperature approaching the high 90s, we decided on a siesta, heading back to the hotel taking a break until about 4pm. Then Emily and I went to one of Beijing's most famous tea houses, only to back off before they served us tea because the prices were so absurdly high. So we opted for a very long walk - we ended up trekking north from our hotel, up the length of Tiananmen Square, past the flag-lowering ceremony at sunset (photographed at right) up the length of the entire Forbidden City, and to Jing Shan Park ("Coal Hill Park" because when they originally excavated earth to build the Forbidden City, they dug out coal and piled it there). The park is a beautifully kept place - perfectly pruned trees and grass, with a tall hill in the center, on top of which sits a pagoda outlook point.

We climbed to the top for sunset and a 360 degree view of the city. Words can't describe the view, but I will say the Feng Shui of this city is incredible. Tiananmen Square, the Forbidden City and the Pagoda at Jing Shan Park (which probably runs 4 miles) all sits perfectly symmetrical on a central meridian - you can see that symmetry in the photo of me and Emily overlooking the Forbidden City.

The city dark, we descended to the city's northside hutongs, settling on a hole in the wall which served Chinese Muslim food - specifically (yes, you guessed it) noodle soup. Bellies full, it was home to the teen tour headquarters for a good night's sleep.

Some first-day observations about Beijing: To my surprise, this is one of the best foreign cities I've ever visited. I had expected a filthy rathole - one only temporarily fixed up for the Olympics.

Remember, before the games, the Chinese government spearheaded a Three S's campaign, telling its citizens to stop spitting, shitting and squatting in the street. Additionally, the government had factories on the outskirts of town shut down during the games so as to fleetingly tamp down air pollution and make the city look artificially cleaner than it actually is.

Beijing is by no means "clean" - every end-of-day shower is an excercise in removing three layers of grime (particularly painful for me with my back towel-scarred from my authentic Chinese "rub-down"). But it is by no means the disgusting rathole I expected it to be. It is really a fantastic place. I would, for example, not recommend the faint of heart visit any of interior China (like Ghizou province, where we just came from). Physically and mentally, a voyage there is straight-up grueling and at times painful. But Beijing is much different - great for any kind of visitor, from the budget backpacker to the over-pampered nouveau riche searching for five-star hotels and meals.

DAY 12: Dodging Bulldozer Blades

We woke up early today, which is quite easy in Beijing because of the sun and the lack of time zones here in China. The entire nation, which has at least as much east-west land mass as the United States and its three time zones, is only on one time. Hence, with Beijing hugging China's northeast corner, the sun is fully up by 5am in the summer.

Today, it was our much-anticipated - and much feared - bike tour of the city. Beijing, for all the hoopla about its relatively new automobile traffic problems, is still a metropolis of bicyclists, with every street including a bike lane on each side. As we found out, however, that doesn't mean it is a city of stronger traffic laws or more careful car driving so as to make sure hazard-exposed bikers are safe.

We started out at the bike tour company's headquarters at the east gate of Jingshan Park (the park just north of the Forbidden City that overlooks all of Beijing). Andy, our Chinese guide, took us south past Tiananmen Square and into the bustle of the southern hutongs (old alleyways).

Hutongs (a typical one we biked through is in the photo at right), as I've mentioned, are the heart and soul of this city - the places that many fear globalization's new skyscrapers, office buildings and hotels will ultimately either gentrify or destroy. They are, unlike so much of China, one of the few fairly quiet places, not because there aren't a lot of people in them (there are - many hutong apartments have three or four families living in two-room spaces), but because they are so narrow and therefore there are very few cars.

To get a mental picture of a hutong, think of an exotic city's classic labyrinthine alleyways used in an action movie - a place like Cairo (Raiders of the Lost Ark), Tangiers (Bourne Supremacy), Venice (The Italian Job) that is the scene of a dramatic chase scene whereby an American hero flees from a team of bad-guys and proceeds to punch/motorcycle/drive over/through/around a local bystanders' cart of chickens/fruits/vegetables.

So, obviously, riding a bike through a hutong is, ahem, challenging. It kinda feels like playing Frogger and Paperboy at the same time: Pedestrians do not change direction to avoid you, motorbikes pass you (or honk at you), construction workers do not even notice you.

From the hutongs, we biked through Beijing's antique district, and then did a six-mile trek north up the west side of Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City to the Houhai district. This is one of Beijing's big night spots - a trendy bar and restaurant-lined loop around Houhai Lake. (For some geography, Houhai Lake is the third and northernmost in a chain of lakes that runs on the west side of the square and the Forbidden City. At the northern tip of this lake, the water turns into a canal which ultimately connects to the Summer Palace outside the city. Andy told us that Emperors used these connecting waterways to boat out to their summer palace for vacation).

We biked around the lake, and then back down to into some northern hutongs, ultimately stopping at a nondescript doorway which leads to Chairman Mao's former Beijing residence. Before becoming Chairman, Mao lived in Beijing for just one year, working as a librarian (and Party legend has it, this is the time when he read "thousands" of books and became brilliant).

After another few miles, and after almost having my head taken off while passing a bulldozer blade, we were done our tour. In all, we biked about 3 and a half hours and about 13 miles - not bad in 90 degree heat.

Three overarching observations about Beijing after our trip:

1) The weather and geography reminds me of Las Vegas: Beijing is extremely flat, extremely dry (because it borders the Gobi desert) and sits just outside big mountain ranges. In that way, it's climate and geography really remind of of Vegas, and makes me think Tom Friedman's book "Hot, Flat and Crowded" should have been the name of an expensive travel book for this city, rather than pretending to be a serious book about China (in fact, maybe if the reader READS his idiotic book like it was WRITTEN as just a vapid travel book, and not some serious work of economic
importance, the tome would make more sense).

2) This is a far more modern and clean city than Guiyang: From down-the-nose descriptions in the American media, I initially expected the opposite - I expected Beijing to be just a much larger Guiyang, and certainly a city that seemed far filthier than any American city. Though I don't have the environmental data in front of me, I can't believe that's so. Sure, it's possible Beijing is dirtier than a similarly-sized American city (if there even is a similary sized city) - but MUCH dirtier? I can't believe it - I can't believe it is, say, hugely more dirty/disgusting than, say, Los Angeles. That's probably due to a mix of things, some purposefully environmentally responsible, some inadvertent: there is a very good subway system here (purposeful), lots of people ride bikes (part purposeful, part inadvertent and out of economic necessity), and there hasn't (yet) been the smoke-belching factory capacity and energy consumption over decades to fully destroy a municipal environment (inadvertent, but perhaps imminent).

3) This is a fabulous city to visit: I've been to big foreign cities like Istanbul, Mexico City, Tel Aviv and Tokyo, and this ranks right up there with each of them in terms of finding a good mix between sights to see, Western amenities, and authenticity - and may even be the best of them. I say last part because while this is a MODERNIZED city with Western AMENITIES, it is NOT by any stretch a culturally WESTERNIZED city.

Sure we've seen a few McDonalds, Starbucks and Rolex stores, and yes, there are more than a few KFC's representing America's "culture" (hey, at least it's semi-official - Col. Sanders is U.S. military after all). But with the Communist Party government still limiting the amount of Western media/culture allowed into the country and with China's inherent nationalism/cultural pride, this city nonetheless overflows with genuine character. You are not traveling accross the globe to visit New York, just with more and cheaper Chinese restaurants - you are really coming to a unique place.

For lunch we hunted down a restaurant in a hutong that served Emily and I disgtustingly greasy pizza and Mike a hamburger and fries. Then we took what has become a standard mid-afternoon break, so as to both rest and avoid the hottest part of the day. Our evening was pleasantly low-key - we subwayed out to the Chaoyang District on the east side of town, the place where most of the embassies and high-end shopping is. Here we found The Bookworm - a cozy English-language bookstore and restaurant that reminded me of a smaller Kramer Books in Washington, D.C.'s Dupont Circle.

It was a perfect spot - tired of street/hutong food, sick of getting a break from street/hutong food with American fast food, and desperate for some kind of food that isn't cooked to a crisp, we found a place that served fresh salads - and a place we felt we could trust would serve us fresh salads that wouldn't give us dysentery.

Indeed, these are the simple pleasures almost two weeks in China will make you appreciate.

DAY 13: Hostile Takeover Hits China

Morning was a trip out to the Teajoy Market in the Xuanwu District in the southwest of the city. This is a three story department store of tea and tea-related products. We did two tea tastings - the first with white jasmine tea, dark jasmine tea, blooming jasmine tea (pictured at right - notice the tea ball actually expands into a submerged flower in your glass) and red tea (the Chinese term for what we call black tea); the second with just black tea. After all was said and done, we walked out with shopping bags full of tea, bladders full of urine, and nerves full of caffeine.

Next door, we hit the local Carrefour - a French grocery store chain prevalent in China's coastal cities. We needed to go here to buy lunchstuffs for tomorrow's trip to the Great Wall, and it was not a pleasant experience because the language barrier proved impossible to overcome. We couldn't read the aisle plaques and thus couldn't find our way around the store at all. We couldn't read the product labels, and thus couldn't figure out exactly what we were buying. You never really understand how much the relative ease of your regular experience at Safeway relies on English until you walk into an all-Chinese grocery store.

Following a fight through traffic back to the hotel to drop off the groceries, it was into a hutong known as "snack street," where you can get all sorts of fried food, including the corn on the cob and Chinese burrito I'm stuffing my face with in the picture at left (notice Mike behind me cowering in disgust). Then it was back on the subway out to the far northeast part of the train system, to then catch a cab out to The Dashanzi 798 Art District. This is one of Beijing's truly hidden gems.

Far outside the center of the city, in a massive ancient factory is a thriving artist community filled with Chinese dissident painters and sculptors. Underneath hulking cement smokestacks and hidden in the nooks of old assembly line warehouses are some of the most fantastic and modern art galleries I've ever been to. We spent two hours walking through the complex and I was riveted the whole time (and that says a lot, because I'm not a huge art browser - I usually start falling asleep after 30 minutes of art gallery walks).

We ate dinner in the complex at a Western-Chinese fusion cafe. Emily had a Caesar salad (her second straight dinner of salads - a victory in that we actually found two straight fresh salads!), Mike and his stomach of steel had another hamburger (actually, a chili burger), and I had a club sandwich.

Our night ended on something of a personal high - back near our hotel, we took a walk through what is known as Beijing's Times Square - a big avenue near Tiananmen Square closed to car traffic, lined with chiq stores and the requisite flourescent lights (photo at left). Peruising the major English language bookstore on the strip, I saw a (fairly) prominently displayed (single) copy of my first book, Hostile Takeover. For a moment, I considered feeling ashamed, wondering: is my book allowed in this bookstore by Chinese communist censors specifically because it is sufficiently critical of America's government and crony capitalist system? Or, is this just an English language bookstore, and thus unregulated by Chinese government censors, meaning the book being here is just a solid sign of its mass appeal/penetration?

I frantically looked around for some sign to solve these questions - and there, on the store's big"Bestsellers" rack, I found my answer. Right on the top shelf were prominently displayed copies of George Orwell's "Animal Farm" - a vehemently anti-communist novel that would have to be among the first books Chinese government censors would bar if they were censoring this bookstore. If the Communist Party is allowing "Animal Farm" to be sold hand over fist at this bookstore, then they aren't censoring anything here - and so that means (or, at minimum, I'll tell myself that means) my book is here, all the way on the other side of the globe, strictly on some mystical (and exquisitely Chinese) mix of merit, luck and fate.