Darren
Mar 26, 05, 6:38 am
The first time I went to Tiananmen Square, it was a Sunday and many things were surprisingly closed. I was unable to get into the Forbidden City because of the lines but decided to go back. I have not been able to yet, however, I did make it back to the square to visit the man, the myth, and the legend. Chairman Mao Zedong enjoys an almost celebrity status here in Beijing. His face adorns everything from the money to the Communist propaganda and if you don’t know what he looks like then you will after a day or two. In fact, you will know what he looks like on pictures, on mugs, on plates, on flags, on pens, in pictures, and on shirts. You will know what he looks like sculpted, painted, photographed, drawn, carved, and any other form you can imagine. However, one has to wonder how much of his message still survives and what he would think of modern China. The people I have met here leave that question to foreigners because they are too busy trying to figure out how to be the best capitalist they can possibly be. There is a saying that there are still a few Communists in China . . . the government has them safely locked up in the sanitariums.
Although capitalism has planted a firm foot in China’s future, all jokes die when people approach the Chairman himself. The mood going into the building is of excitement, reverence, and respect. People purchase flowers at the entrance and put them at the feet of the Chairman’s statue. They are promptly removed and recycled to the front to be sold once again, proving that capitalism is present even at the Chairman’s feet. The group of people are swiftly shuffled down two corridors and past the man himself. He is bathed in a natural light, giving him an almost iridescent glow. His uniform is pressed perfectly and his medals shine bright. Draped over his middle and legs is a large red flag with the hammer and sickle in the center. The red in the flag shines deep and bright from the light and is redder than the blood of all the people that it represents. Foreigners look in awe and wonder. The young look in respect. The old look in reverence. War heroes wear their Sunday best with all their medals displayed proudly. The women weep. It is an interesting experience and anyone coming to Beijing should take a few minutes out for it. Irrespective of politics, seeing the once leader of 1/4 of the world’s population helps put into perspective the history of this large country. It also displayed to me that even though China is moving forward, it still has an eye for the past.
After getting shorn at a (legit) hair salon, I headed to lunch. Once again, I found myself in a very local place. I obviously am not picking up any Chinese but I am recognizing a few characters here and there. Playing a bit of Chinese Roulette with the menu, I ended up with a chili and chicken dish that hit the spot. Basically, imagine chunks of chicken, stuck on toothpicks, and cooked in a wok. Maybe 15. Then the chef throws in garlic, peppercorns, ginger, and about a cup or a cup and a half of dried chilies. It’s cooked for a couple more minutes, thrown in a basket, and out it comes. It was quite good, but a bit spicy. I am okay with it and it felt good since an arctic wind was blowing.
After lunch, I headed to the Baoguo market nearby. When I arrived, police were flying in like the place was on fire. It wasn’t, however, one man probably wished it had been since he was being detained for probably theft. Note to self: Do not resist Chinese police. They tend to get cranky when someone takes a swing at them and I thought the chief was going to, however, the place was packed and it looked as if another officer talked some sense into him. The guy is in custody. Why beat him to a pulp in public when it can happen in private without causing a scene? So off they zipped . . . or at least as much as one can zip in Beijing.
The market was primarily for “antiques”, junk, and other assorted things that few foreigners would want. In fact, the market apparently is a place that few foreigners would go at all since I was the only one in the two hours I was there. I was certainly the center of attention, I will say that much. I was followed by the usual, “haalllooooooo” and “where you from” as I made my way through the rows of laid out blankets. Quickly, I was in a conversation with one of the security guards. He was young and learning English and just wanted to strike up some conversation. It turned out that he was harmless enough but I am jaded enough that I am very skeptical of the motivations of people who approach me in English. We went around the market but I decided not to buy anything. It’s one thing to get the fat white guy’s price. It’s quite another to get the only fat white guy in the local market’s price. I asked about a couple of things and they turned out to be inflated by about 6-7 times instead of the usual 3 or 4. Definitely a place to have a Chinese speaking friend with you.
Anyone who knows me knows that I drink a lot of coffee and tea. I have to hand it to the people here, though, they can drink me under the table with one hand tied behind their backs. The term, “all the tea in China” took on a new meaning as I made my way over to Maliandao Lu. The street starts off innocent enough as you enter off of Guanganmenwai Dajie with a few tea shops here and there. Each of the owners beckoning you in by tapping on the window and waving like you’re walking through the red light district in Amsterdam. But the look in their eyes tells you that they are only but the first layer of this tea flavored artichoke. Soon enough, the streets become lined on both sides with shops of all sizes selling all types of tea and tea products. Finally, the heart of the artichoke is reached. It is in the form of a very large, four story building, three of which have nothing but tea and tea products. The last is a digital camera market. Go figure.
The people of Beijing take their tea *very* seriously. There is a certain, precise method for making the tea properly which involves a long series of steps. If I remember right, the tea maker first boils a pot of water then throws it out. New water is boiled and poured over the teapot, cups, and strainer or the cup used to make the tea. I don’t know its name but I will call it the teacup. A scoop of tea is put into the teacup and the boiling water is poured over. The tea is left to steep for a couple of minutes and strained into the teapot. The teapot is swished and the tea thrown out. More water is added to the leaves and more time for steeping. The tea is put into the teapot and some is poured into the cups . . . and then that is thrown out. Finally, the tea is put into the cups for consumption. This seems like a lot of work for someone who usually throws a bit of Earl Grey into a teapress, but the results are fantastic and the essence of the tea is brought out. The people who do this every day also have it down to a science. Technology also helps in the form of a heating plate for the kettle. It takes about 5 or 10 minutes at most and the waits are filled with sniffing of tea leaves, pointing out the differences, and (in this case) general salesmanship.
I ended up with a severe buzz (I paid the price later) and about a pound of tea. I probably overpaid a bit, but realistically, it’s quality stuff and I would have paid a heck of a lot more in the states. At some point, it’s not worth the time to bargain. Most of the tea was good, though a bit just wasn’t my style. The worst was the prettiest which was a 3/4 inch ball of tea with a flower in the center that unfolded into a very pretty flower. Unfortunately, the tea tasted like it was strained through a dog’s tail so I felt uncompelled to do anything besides think how pretty it was. The bottom line is that coffee is next to impossible to find in China. Most is instant and if you find decent coffee then it’s usually an arm and a leg even by western standards. Probably the best place for it is McDonalds where a cup is about 5 yuan. Tea, however, is plentiful and cheap. Find it, try it, and realize how tea should taste.
I headed back to the hotel after a quick stop in Carrefour because it was getting quite late. I really had no interest in anything from Carrefour but I did want to see if they had anything different or offbeat. The answer is, “no”. For the uninitiated, Carrefour is France’s equivalent of WalMart. It doesn’t have the same stigma as Wal Mart for reasons I will not publicly speculate on, however, like Wal Mart, the prices are decent and they have a lot of western goods. They are often in unexpected places like China, Thailand, the UAE, and Indonesia, and are especially useful for getting things that were forgotten or that you unexpectedly run out of.
Back at the hotel, I needed to take an hour and do some hand washing. Maybe I am being a bit naïve here, but I expected there to be many Chinese laundries in China. Well, I would be wrong. There are Thai laundries in Thailand and Singaporean laundries in Singapore, but I have looked for a cheap Chinese laundry in Beijing with no success. The only alternative to doing it myself is to pay the equivalent of about $3 each to have them done. I like my skivvies soft, but not $3 soft. I did ask, incidentally, and the locals said that they are hard to find up in the area that I am in but are more available in the hutongs in the south and east of the city.
The following day was all work and no play from morning until late at night. This morning, however, we decided to take a bit of a break from work and go to the Panjiayuan market in the south eastern part of the city. The market has many names including the Ghost Market, the Dirt Market, and the Forbidden Market but its proper name is Panjiayuan. The various names all allude to its history of being a thieves market where many “forbidden” or “dirty” things were bought and sold by “ghosts” cloaked in darkness. When light appeared, the items were put away and the legitimate items emerged. One of the team members, her boyfriend, and I arrived at the market at around 6:30am when it was still a locals market but after most of the illicit items were sold or removed. The team member is Korean but her boyfriend is Chinese so my chances of getting a decent deal improved dramatically. After a few hours of wandering, I ended up with a few souvenirs to take home and one or two gifts for others. By the time we were leaving, the market had begun to take a much more distinctly foreigners feel. Prices were rising and they were streaming the entrances as we were walking to the car. We left to the serenade of “helloooooooo . . . where you from?” in the distant background. If you’re here on a Saturday, the market is well worth a visit. Whether the prices are good or bad depends on your perspective but hard bargaining is the order of the day. It is made considerably more difficult without speaking Mandarin. But the market is still interesting in its own right. If you want it in Beijing, chances are decent that it is in the market somewhere. Anything from old toys, opium pipes, communist military uniforms, calligraphy sets, “antiques”, Qing mirror boxes, mah jong sets, chess sets, and a whole host of other oddities can be found in the market. It’s also an opportunity, if you get up early enough, to see real Chinese trade in action. It’s like the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.
After a brief stop for coffee at Mickey D’s, we headed down the shopping streets of Qianmen Dajie and Dazhalanxi Dajie. The prices were higher because I was told that it’s more of a tourist or foreigners market but there were a few deals here and there if you insisted on them. A tie, which was my only purchase, magically went from 30 yuan to 10 yuan when I handed her a ten note and moved on. They know what the price should be. Your advantage is knowing as well.
We finished the afternoon with a large meal of Peking duck, lotus root, gongbao chicken, and an eggplant dish that I honestly don’t remember the name of. Everything was good if a bit heavy for a lunchtime meal. We headed back to our respective domiciles and called it a very productive day.
Although capitalism has planted a firm foot in China’s future, all jokes die when people approach the Chairman himself. The mood going into the building is of excitement, reverence, and respect. People purchase flowers at the entrance and put them at the feet of the Chairman’s statue. They are promptly removed and recycled to the front to be sold once again, proving that capitalism is present even at the Chairman’s feet. The group of people are swiftly shuffled down two corridors and past the man himself. He is bathed in a natural light, giving him an almost iridescent glow. His uniform is pressed perfectly and his medals shine bright. Draped over his middle and legs is a large red flag with the hammer and sickle in the center. The red in the flag shines deep and bright from the light and is redder than the blood of all the people that it represents. Foreigners look in awe and wonder. The young look in respect. The old look in reverence. War heroes wear their Sunday best with all their medals displayed proudly. The women weep. It is an interesting experience and anyone coming to Beijing should take a few minutes out for it. Irrespective of politics, seeing the once leader of 1/4 of the world’s population helps put into perspective the history of this large country. It also displayed to me that even though China is moving forward, it still has an eye for the past.
After getting shorn at a (legit) hair salon, I headed to lunch. Once again, I found myself in a very local place. I obviously am not picking up any Chinese but I am recognizing a few characters here and there. Playing a bit of Chinese Roulette with the menu, I ended up with a chili and chicken dish that hit the spot. Basically, imagine chunks of chicken, stuck on toothpicks, and cooked in a wok. Maybe 15. Then the chef throws in garlic, peppercorns, ginger, and about a cup or a cup and a half of dried chilies. It’s cooked for a couple more minutes, thrown in a basket, and out it comes. It was quite good, but a bit spicy. I am okay with it and it felt good since an arctic wind was blowing.
After lunch, I headed to the Baoguo market nearby. When I arrived, police were flying in like the place was on fire. It wasn’t, however, one man probably wished it had been since he was being detained for probably theft. Note to self: Do not resist Chinese police. They tend to get cranky when someone takes a swing at them and I thought the chief was going to, however, the place was packed and it looked as if another officer talked some sense into him. The guy is in custody. Why beat him to a pulp in public when it can happen in private without causing a scene? So off they zipped . . . or at least as much as one can zip in Beijing.
The market was primarily for “antiques”, junk, and other assorted things that few foreigners would want. In fact, the market apparently is a place that few foreigners would go at all since I was the only one in the two hours I was there. I was certainly the center of attention, I will say that much. I was followed by the usual, “haalllooooooo” and “where you from” as I made my way through the rows of laid out blankets. Quickly, I was in a conversation with one of the security guards. He was young and learning English and just wanted to strike up some conversation. It turned out that he was harmless enough but I am jaded enough that I am very skeptical of the motivations of people who approach me in English. We went around the market but I decided not to buy anything. It’s one thing to get the fat white guy’s price. It’s quite another to get the only fat white guy in the local market’s price. I asked about a couple of things and they turned out to be inflated by about 6-7 times instead of the usual 3 or 4. Definitely a place to have a Chinese speaking friend with you.
Anyone who knows me knows that I drink a lot of coffee and tea. I have to hand it to the people here, though, they can drink me under the table with one hand tied behind their backs. The term, “all the tea in China” took on a new meaning as I made my way over to Maliandao Lu. The street starts off innocent enough as you enter off of Guanganmenwai Dajie with a few tea shops here and there. Each of the owners beckoning you in by tapping on the window and waving like you’re walking through the red light district in Amsterdam. But the look in their eyes tells you that they are only but the first layer of this tea flavored artichoke. Soon enough, the streets become lined on both sides with shops of all sizes selling all types of tea and tea products. Finally, the heart of the artichoke is reached. It is in the form of a very large, four story building, three of which have nothing but tea and tea products. The last is a digital camera market. Go figure.
The people of Beijing take their tea *very* seriously. There is a certain, precise method for making the tea properly which involves a long series of steps. If I remember right, the tea maker first boils a pot of water then throws it out. New water is boiled and poured over the teapot, cups, and strainer or the cup used to make the tea. I don’t know its name but I will call it the teacup. A scoop of tea is put into the teacup and the boiling water is poured over. The tea is left to steep for a couple of minutes and strained into the teapot. The teapot is swished and the tea thrown out. More water is added to the leaves and more time for steeping. The tea is put into the teapot and some is poured into the cups . . . and then that is thrown out. Finally, the tea is put into the cups for consumption. This seems like a lot of work for someone who usually throws a bit of Earl Grey into a teapress, but the results are fantastic and the essence of the tea is brought out. The people who do this every day also have it down to a science. Technology also helps in the form of a heating plate for the kettle. It takes about 5 or 10 minutes at most and the waits are filled with sniffing of tea leaves, pointing out the differences, and (in this case) general salesmanship.
I ended up with a severe buzz (I paid the price later) and about a pound of tea. I probably overpaid a bit, but realistically, it’s quality stuff and I would have paid a heck of a lot more in the states. At some point, it’s not worth the time to bargain. Most of the tea was good, though a bit just wasn’t my style. The worst was the prettiest which was a 3/4 inch ball of tea with a flower in the center that unfolded into a very pretty flower. Unfortunately, the tea tasted like it was strained through a dog’s tail so I felt uncompelled to do anything besides think how pretty it was. The bottom line is that coffee is next to impossible to find in China. Most is instant and if you find decent coffee then it’s usually an arm and a leg even by western standards. Probably the best place for it is McDonalds where a cup is about 5 yuan. Tea, however, is plentiful and cheap. Find it, try it, and realize how tea should taste.
I headed back to the hotel after a quick stop in Carrefour because it was getting quite late. I really had no interest in anything from Carrefour but I did want to see if they had anything different or offbeat. The answer is, “no”. For the uninitiated, Carrefour is France’s equivalent of WalMart. It doesn’t have the same stigma as Wal Mart for reasons I will not publicly speculate on, however, like Wal Mart, the prices are decent and they have a lot of western goods. They are often in unexpected places like China, Thailand, the UAE, and Indonesia, and are especially useful for getting things that were forgotten or that you unexpectedly run out of.
Back at the hotel, I needed to take an hour and do some hand washing. Maybe I am being a bit naïve here, but I expected there to be many Chinese laundries in China. Well, I would be wrong. There are Thai laundries in Thailand and Singaporean laundries in Singapore, but I have looked for a cheap Chinese laundry in Beijing with no success. The only alternative to doing it myself is to pay the equivalent of about $3 each to have them done. I like my skivvies soft, but not $3 soft. I did ask, incidentally, and the locals said that they are hard to find up in the area that I am in but are more available in the hutongs in the south and east of the city.
The following day was all work and no play from morning until late at night. This morning, however, we decided to take a bit of a break from work and go to the Panjiayuan market in the south eastern part of the city. The market has many names including the Ghost Market, the Dirt Market, and the Forbidden Market but its proper name is Panjiayuan. The various names all allude to its history of being a thieves market where many “forbidden” or “dirty” things were bought and sold by “ghosts” cloaked in darkness. When light appeared, the items were put away and the legitimate items emerged. One of the team members, her boyfriend, and I arrived at the market at around 6:30am when it was still a locals market but after most of the illicit items were sold or removed. The team member is Korean but her boyfriend is Chinese so my chances of getting a decent deal improved dramatically. After a few hours of wandering, I ended up with a few souvenirs to take home and one or two gifts for others. By the time we were leaving, the market had begun to take a much more distinctly foreigners feel. Prices were rising and they were streaming the entrances as we were walking to the car. We left to the serenade of “helloooooooo . . . where you from?” in the distant background. If you’re here on a Saturday, the market is well worth a visit. Whether the prices are good or bad depends on your perspective but hard bargaining is the order of the day. It is made considerably more difficult without speaking Mandarin. But the market is still interesting in its own right. If you want it in Beijing, chances are decent that it is in the market somewhere. Anything from old toys, opium pipes, communist military uniforms, calligraphy sets, “antiques”, Qing mirror boxes, mah jong sets, chess sets, and a whole host of other oddities can be found in the market. It’s also an opportunity, if you get up early enough, to see real Chinese trade in action. It’s like the floor of the New York Stock Exchange.
After a brief stop for coffee at Mickey D’s, we headed down the shopping streets of Qianmen Dajie and Dazhalanxi Dajie. The prices were higher because I was told that it’s more of a tourist or foreigners market but there were a few deals here and there if you insisted on them. A tie, which was my only purchase, magically went from 30 yuan to 10 yuan when I handed her a ten note and moved on. They know what the price should be. Your advantage is knowing as well.
We finished the afternoon with a large meal of Peking duck, lotus root, gongbao chicken, and an eggplant dish that I honestly don’t remember the name of. Everything was good if a bit heavy for a lunchtime meal. We headed back to our respective domiciles and called it a very productive day.