Youngs Around the World

After checking off the Forbidden City, Tiananmen Square, and the Great Wall in our first two days in Beijing, we felt sated and slowed our pace. There was still plenty to see in the capital of what is forecasted to be the world’s next great Superpower – a city of sixteen million people, well on its way to becoming a bastion of consumerism; a city that is furiously preparing itself to host the 2008 Olympics in less than two months.

We set off early for the Summer Palace, a UNESCO World Heritage Site which formerly served as a vacation home for Chinese royalty. We rode the metro as far as we could and then caught a city bus the rest of the way. A female American expat scientist that we’d run into on the train offered to show us which bus to take, which was great because we had no idea. We talked a bit on the walk from the train station to bus station. She mentioned that she has worked in Hong Kong and China for the last ten years but the most interesting piece of information that she gave us was regarding the living conditions of some of her Chinese colleagues. She said that the government gives them a residence only three square meters in size. It is so depressing at home that the employees come to work very early in the morning, shower there, and stay late into the night, either working or playing computer games. I would have loved to spend the entire day listening to her talk about her experiences as a female expat in China but she was on her way to work.

The architectural design of the entrance to the Summer Palace was strikingly similar to that of the Forbidden City – a pagoda-like structure ornamented with the same ornate patterns of red, gold, green and blue. Once inside, we wove our way through the throngs of tour groups – each group with its own matching hats – in the courtyard. We emerged at the edge of the sparkling blue Lake Kunming, which occupies three-quarters of the palatial grounds. A bluish-purple haze – likely a combination of clouds and smog – cast a mystical glow across the glassy surface of the lake and obscured the “templescape” on the northern shore. An elaborately decorated ferry cut through the glass as it carried visitors back and forth across the lake while paddleboats and rowboats careened about on the breezeless day.

We made our way toward the north side of the lake where most of the buildings were situated around the gentle slopes of Longevity Hill. The Buddhist temples, halls and corridors were all of intricate, colorful design and bore marvelous names such as the Hall of Benevolence and Longevity, Cloud Dispelling Hall, and Temple of the Sea of Wisdom. The focal point of the hill was the Buddhist Fragrance Pavilion – a vibrant, cylindrical pagoda overlooking the lake.

As we continued north, we came upon a shaded courtyard where approximately two hundred middle-aged Chinese women were practicing a choreographed dance routine, similar to the Electric Slide, while music blared from a large speaker. We couldn’t decide whether it was some kind of dance aerobics or they were learning the routine for an event related to the Olympics. In any case, they were in the early stages of instruction and were adorably focused on their task. It was quite a spectacle as the women skipped, shimmied and gyrated about the courtyard.

Past the dancers, we came upon my favorite area of the Summer Palace – Suzhou Street. Crossing an arched stone bridge, we caught our first glimpse of the traditional, red-laced shopfronts edging around a narrow canal. Suzhou Street was created as a replica of Jiangsu, a famous Chinese canal town. Its charming shopfronts were fully functional with tea houses, souvenir shops, Chinese calligraphers, painters, and photography studios in which visitors could dress in traditional Chinese silk costumes. A lone flute-seller demonstrated his instrument on the walkway, filling the entire canal town with his eerie, tranquil notes. We took a single leisurely lap around the riverside walkway and were beckoned inside every shop, gallery and tea house that we passed, which detracted only slightly from the charm of the experience.

As we made our way back through the courtyard, we noticed that the dancing women had dispersed and I was sorry that I hadn’t snapped a photo of them earlier. We found our way back to the lake and took the ferry across to the south side, near our exit.

The Summer Palace was symbolic of the grandeur and excesses of the early Chinese rulers. More than simply a vacation home, the palace was a royal playground fit for an emperor who needed a walled-in sanctuary like the Forbidden City to isolate him from his subjects. Seeing the decadence in which the historical rulers lived, we cannot help but wonder about the living conditions of the average citizen at that time. Was the whole of the empire living so large as to justify such palaces? Or were citizens enslaved to toil over palatial labors while they themselves lived in squalor?

China is the world’s longest continuous civilization. As Americans, it is difficult for us to fathom such long cultural history, that which predates Christ. As we visit countries like China and Egypt, we often find ourselves wondering why nations like these that seemed architecturally, artistically, socially and technologically so advanced fell steps behind later emerging nations. The trend seems to support the idea that man’s biggest enemy is always himself. Even a very advanced and economically dominant Superpower can fall victim to its leaders’ greed and proclivity for war. The world balance of power is dynamic…it is ever-changing. While the warring and decadence of old China may have caused the country to fall from grace, today’s China, according to countless analysts, seems to be on its way to the top.

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The Great Wall of China was originally begun during the Qin Dynasty between 221-207 B.C. Though it was never effective in its original purpose – to keep out invaders – it did serve as an excellent transportation system for moving weapons and supplies through the mountains. The wall was fortified again during the Ming Dynasty – a 100 year process that expended colossal man-power and resources. It is near the top of every list of world wonders and is a must-see in China. There are several different sections of the wall that are open to visitors, including sections that have been restored from crumbling ruin to replicate their original appearance. Badaling is a rebuilt section of the wall that is reputedly the most commercialized and crowded but, after battling the crowds in the Forbidden City, we wanted something more personal. Our hostel advertised a small group excursion to a “secret” part of the wall, which involved a three-hour drive, a mountain trek, two hours on the wall itself, and lunch at the end. Most importantly, the promoters promised a less touristy experience.

We departed on a minibus at 7:30am and jerked through Beijing’s morning gridlock for over an hour before reaching a stretch of highway – still congested with commercial vehicles – that wound through the mountains. We passed the spectacle at Badaling and stared at the row of at least one hundred full-size tour buses and rows upon rows of souvenir shops and other services. We all quietly conferred on the undesirability of that scene. At the end of three hours, we arrived on a remote road along the foot of a mountain range. Everyone in the bus needed a restroom visit but there was only the crumbling shell of a small stone building, which appeared to serve no function whatsoever. Our group of ten scattered into the brush for our first bonding experience of the day.

Our Chinese guide was a little old man (perhaps sixty, though it is always hard to tell with Asians because they age so well) who spoke only one word of English: “okay”. We never caught his name; he was introduced simply as “the guide” when we picked him up on the side of the road. From now on, I’ll refer to him as Wang because he needs a name. Wang led our group in slow, measured steps up the mountainside, on a narrow, rocky trail encroached upon by thick brush from both sides. The slow but steady pace of the ascent made the otherwise rigorous terrain quite manageable, even for a little whiner like me who hates steep inclines. Wang clearly felt no sense of urgency and everyone in the group was in fine spirits.

We could see the Great Wall across the mountain tops long before we arrived there. From a distance, it looked smaller than I’d imagined, dwarfed against the enormity of the mountains. We climbed for nearly forty-five minutes, pausing occasionally to rest, until we finally reached the foot of the wall. Up close, it was very tall – about fifteen feet on average – and stretched as far as we could see in both directions, following the curves of the mountain peaks like a white ribbon. A section of the wall that had collapsed into a pile of rubble created a stony entrance and we all clambered up the rubble hill to stand on the wall for the first time. Everyone was in awe of the spectacular view across the soaring, green mountains. We were unable yet to grasp the idea that we were standing on the Great Wall of China.

For the next two hours, we walked on top of the wall, stopping along the way for photos and to take in the views at various angles. The views were always different as the wall, in varying states of deterioration, snaked across the entire mountain range. The wall was surprisingly thick with tightly packed earth sandwiched between two massive stone walls. Even in its state of rapid dilapidation, it felt sturdy beneath our careful steps. The sound of hard-soled hiking boots stomping over stone and rammed earth was like music. The wall was topped with staggered guard towers and we stopped for a long rest at one of the taller towers – a two-storey stone structure with a one-man souvenir and refreshment shop inside. A ladder made of tree branches and wire granted us access to the top of the tower and we sat up there, on top of the Great Wall of China, and seemingly on top of the world. The “secret” wall excursion had delivered on all of its promises. In our two-hour walk on top of the wall, we did not encounter another soul save for the single, non-intrusive refreshment seller in the tower. The experience was moving, contemplative, inspiring…it was epic!

Wang found an inconspicuous path that led us back down the mountain to a small village. While we were all sad to leave the euphoria of standing on the Great Wall behind, we were all looking forward to a hot meal. At the foot of the mountain, Wang managed, using only hand gestures (like pointing to the wall and rubbing his belly) to ask us if we were happy with the experience and to solicit a tip from the group. We were all elated and happily relinquished a generous stack of Yuan, which gave Wang a big smile. We figured that his grandchildren probably want the Nintendo Wii too.

Lunch was delicious – heaping portions of steamy stir-fried dishes, served family-style on a Chinese turn-table. Family style is the best way to eat in China, where (like in most parts of Asia) the concept of Western food service etiquette is completely foreign. When we dine out in Asia, our entrees almost never arrive together. One of us will be nearly finished before the other’s entrée is delivered. Appetizers arrive with entrées. After months in Asia, we have learned to share everything. Halfway through our meal, the hostess (without a word of English) abruptly demanded that we pony up for the Cokes and beer. It is a bizarre culture difference to which we never quite grow accustomed since it conflicts with our own rules of etiquette.

The ride back to Beijing was shorter than the morning ride but, to the weary bodies in the minibus, it felt much longer. The physical and emotional exertion of our epic endeavor had left us in a state of mellow fatigue. Aaron and I made it out for some Peking duck (a must-have in Beijing) but retired early to reflect on the day and let the surrealism of walking on the Great Wall of China fade into awesome reality.

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As our plane descended toward Beijing, the first things we noticed about the city were smog, a wide flat landscape and smog. “According to the World Bank, China has 16 of the world’s 20 most polluted cities, and by some counts Beijing is the world’s most polluted city.” (Lonely Planet China, May 2007)

By the time we made it through Immigration and collected our bags, it was eight p.m. and we were happy to find a sign with our name on it at the airport exit. It is always a little disorienting to enter a city for the first time in the dark. As I stared curiously out the window during the hour-long drive to the hostel, my brain struggled to make sense of the wide, busy highways. It didn’t look like the China I had envisioned. Not until our minibus pulled into a narrow side street alight with red Chinese lanterns and cluttered with bicycles would my brain accept that this was actually Beijing. The hostel exceeded our highest expectations with cozy down comforters, a quaint garden courtyard, and a Western toilet (although it was the kind that you can’t put any paper into, which is still pretty disgusting).

There is so much to see in Beijing and we started early the next morning with a walk to Tiananmen Square – an easy fifteen-minute stroll from our hostel. The streets were wide with generous sidewalks and bike lanes. China’s dense population is evident on any given street – there are people everywhere! Underground pedestrian walkways circumvent the eight-lane street crossings and uniformed crossing guards assist with the narrower street-level crossings. Efficiently moving this many people through the city on a given day seems like a daunting challenge to which the Chinese have responded with excellent public transportation systems. City buses and the metro are clean, cheap, efficient and filled to capacity – standing room only and just barely – with bodies. And still the streets are crowded with auto traffic. Among the crowds in Beijing are noticeably few Anglo faces; even around the most visited sites, the tourists are largely Asian.

At mid-morning, Tiananmen Square was already flocked with tourists, though the sheer size of the world’s largest public square left us plenty of room to wander. The square was conceived to represent the enormity of Communism and encompasses an area equal to about sixty official size soccer fields. Today, the square bustles with tourists and locals alike, pondering the historical significance and enjoying the wide open spaces in the middle of the city. The most famous landmark and the symbolic center of the Chinese universe is an imposing red wall at the northern end of the Square called the Gate of Heavenly Peace. It is marked with a large portrait of ex-Chairman Mao – a former head of state whose failed communist economic experiment, called the Great Leap Forward, resulted is an estimated thirty million Chinese deaths by starvation but who is somehow still revered by the Chinese.

The Forbidden City lies adjacent to Tiananmen Square. We headed toward the entrance, drawn to the colorful rooftop of the hall towering over the Meridian Gate. We rented an audio guide with a built-in GPS system and walked inside. The Imperial Palace, now know as the Forbidden City because it was off-limits for 500 years, was constructed during the Ming dynasty in the 15th century and served as a secluded palace home to two dynasties of Chinese emperors: the Ming and the Qing. The compound was designed such that the emperors rarely had to leave its decadent, insulated confines. With a 2.6 million square foot area of halls, galleries, gardens and courtyards, it is not difficult to imagine living an entire life inside the foreboding city walls. The emperors held court, gave public speeches, received felicitations on special occasions, hosted foreign dignitaries, studied, amassed a great many treasures and lived their daily lives within the city walls. The main areas of the city were its various great halls, built in perfect alignment through the center of the compound. Each hall had a specific function and was richly decorated in blue, green, red and gold. The design of the halls and their opulent adornments were intended to acknowledge the divine right of the emperor to rule the people.

Around the perimeter of the compound were smaller galleries now used as individual museums, housing palace treasures, historical artifacts, royal jewelry and a splendid collection of beautiful antique clocks. The Chinese used sun dials and hour glasses to keep the time before British traders first brought clocks to China through the port at Guangzhou. The Hall of Clocks displayed an impressive collection of British, French, and Dutch clocks gifted to the emperors as well as Chinese clocks later commissioned in the royal workshop. This dimly lit gallery with red walls and illuminated glass display cases was our favorite gallery inside the Forbidden City.

After four hours in the hot summer sun, we had covered a good portion of the enormous compound. The architectural style, beautiful colors and intricate designs of the halls were all striking but it was the expansiveness of the city itself that left us completely awestruck. We had to ask ourselves how a small contingent can get away with living in such rich luxury, built on the blood, sweat and tears of the masses. The idea of divine right is so foreign to our democratic minds. We are reminded how malleable are the minds of the masses, especially in nations where the free flow of information is largely censored at the hand of a small contingent. Without education and freedom of information, the view from inside the box can be painted in thick, rosy gloss. Still, the American government is no poster child of transparency. Governments apparently cannot pursue their “necessary” clandestine operations without their secrets. It is an interesting world that we live in. I cannot help but think that every society will be corrupted by man’s greed for power but that the volatility of disgruntled masses, however oppressed, will eventually shift the weight of power and restore the balance, only to have the cycle begin again.

We had worked up quite an appetite and decided to walk to a narrow side street in the nearby Wangfujing district, nicknamed “Snack Street”. In reality it was more like an alleyway ornamented with a large colorful archway at the entrance. It was lined with food stalls and a few small restaurants. One vendor displayed skewers of scorpions, seahorses, snakes, starfish, and a variety of insects which could be fried upon request. I found it quite disturbing, especially the seahorses, which are so rare and beautiful. We passed on the exotic fare and were instead lured into one of the restaurants where there was no menu whatsoever and no one spoke English. We managed to order some dumplings and noodles (although we actually got noodle soup instead). We have found the food in China to be oily and mediocre so far but, after a long, hot day of walking in the Forbidden City, we were happy just to sit.

We made a few last stops on the way back to our place, including the Beijing 2008 Olympic Flagship Store to stock up on official Olympics gear. The selection of Olympics merchandise was dizzying with everything from pens and stuffed animals to lavish Chinese vases with prices in the thousands of dollars (but priced in Yuan, of course). We scored a few t-shirts, then popped underground to the metro station and found our way back to the hostel with the ease of seasoned travelers. Our first day in Beijing was brilliant. We are fascinated by the Chinese culture and look forward to digging deeper into the psyche of this emerging economic powerhouse.

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