In Beijing Still

6:20am in Beijing - (yesterday).

Leaving in about a half hour for aday trip to the Great Wall. In many ways, yes, we aretourists. On the other hand, often also justappreciators and travellers, meeting up with people,listening to the sounds of traffic, and getting achance to see an enjoy so many things.Beijing has been, from my vantage, an excellent city. Bike friendly, great food (incl. veggie friendly), andthe old hutong's where you can be in the centre ofBeijing (with a population just less than half of allof Canada) but still feel like rural France withsingle story buildings and narrow walkways with fewcars, people meeting in the street and chatting witheach other, chidlren running with a bowl of food intheir hands, hawkers selling all manner of wares.

Onthe flip side, the modern urbanism also seems somewhatsane with a bike lane near Tian'amen Square about thesame width as 5 North American car lanes, dwarfing thecar traffic beside us.We have been tourists...

Yesterday we rented bikesand toured the city on two wheels. Felt great to beon a bike again and Chris and I both loved the feelingof freedom on a bike.We visited the aforementioned square with the tvimages of a massacre imprinted on my brain as wewalked through it. We spent hours in the Forbidden City, appreciating thearchitecture and art while listening to an audio guidethat gave us a bit of a glimpse of the life of theEmperor's within. We were also shut out for a longtime, unable to leave the Forbidden City, becausethere was a state visit going on. I asked a Chinesetour guide what was going on and she replied, "TheEmperor of France is visiting." Napolean? No. "Emperor Chirac," she said, "is visiting the ForbiddenCity." Chris and I walked away with amused grins.

Next we ran to join the queue to see Mao before the4pm closing. Thousands of people visit him every day,many of them Chinese carrying yellow-flowers that arelovingly placed in front of a statue of Mao with someprayers thrown in for a good measure. We were herdedpast a preserved Mao (wearing make-up like he shouldbe the poster boy for Revlon) and after our 20 secondglimpe of the old fella, we were off again. Strangebusiness this visiting dead people. Back on Tian'amenSquare, a hawker approaches us to see if we'd like tobuy a Mao watch. "Let's see," says Chris, "it WOULDgo great with my Stalin keychain and my Hitler lighter,but I think I'll pass on the emblems of massacre." Orsomething to that effect.

Then last night we went to a 'Chinese Opera' althoughI use the term loosely as it seems more intended forforeigners and is a bit of a easy-to-digest version. The musicians in their crimpled satin outfits revealedtheir blue jeans and sneakers underneath. (I thoughtof some of the authors I've read about culture andcultural maintenance in an age of globalization wherewhat remains becomes a parody of itself. Everything,somehow, echoes Disney. Fun, entertaining, never toomuch of a strain on the brain. I also thought of thebook Memoirs of a Geisha where after the ancienttradition of geishas came mostly to an end during theSecond World War, soldiers were entertained by"geishas" i.e. prostitutes who sold them the idea ofexoticism without really even being geishas or havingthe intense training behind it.) Still, despite thesecritisms, the costumes, make-up, dancing, and singingwere still fantastic. The opera was in one ofBeijing's oldest theatre, the oldest wooden oneoverall. On the wall were black and white pictures ofthe great actors of before and I could imagine atheatre, some time in in the 1700s, before tourism(maybe you could genuinely call it travelling before),when the theatre was packed with Chinese lovers ofopera. The hustle and bustle of the old theatre rangin the ears of my imagination.Back in to our old hudong.

The hostel where we'restaying in fantastic. With a small old schoolcourtyard, it boasts a self cook kitchen, excellentquality common showers, dorms rooms for 4 guests, free30 min. internet, a tour service, bar, free billiards,free DVD rental, free laundry, and the best location Icould imagine. I don't usually write ads for theplaces where we stay, but this has been an astoudingplace. And for central Beijing, or central any bigcity, $8.50 Canadian per night per person is extremelyreasonable.Phew. Yes, my legs are aching.

It's funny but allthe places we've been have made me want to stay, learnthe language, and really get to know the place and thepeople better. In Russia, it was the small town ofKuzhir on Olkhon Island in Lake Baikal that made myimagination wander and think that maybe some day Icould return and learn for real and with a depth thatthis passing through doesn't allow. Mongolia hit mewith the force of a camel carrying 250kg. It washauntingly beautiful and deeply powerful.

More later, especially about how much we loved our trip to Mongolia.