Beijing in a Breeze

When we finally touched down in Beijing, I was surprised at how state-of-the-art it was with its tall skyscrapers and wide avenues, as well as the strong presence of Western establishments such as KFC, McDonald’s, Starbucks, and the like. It was so different from how I imagined it to be. Had it not been for the bicycle lanes with hundreds of cyclists doing their daily commute and the huge bicycle parking lots dotting the cityscape, it could have been any other modern Western city, in fact, even surpassing some in size and modernity.

I did see the side of Beijing that I had in my mind when we drove by the old section. It was characterized by narrower roads and small alleyways lined with a combination of old residential buildings and small shops that sold ancient books, pottery, jade, gold, calligraphy, musical instruments, and all kinds of handicrafts.

Instead of ultra-modern tower blocks and office employees walking around in their sharp suits, talking on their cell phones while balancing paper cups of take-away coffee, I saw peddlers in their squeaky rickshaws hawking their wares, old men sitting on wooden stools outside their century-old hutong abodes (lines of traditional quadrangle courtyard residences that form narrow alleys which are typical structures found in old Beijing), children boisterously playing street games, colourful signage with big Chinese characters and paper lanterns hanging outside the stores, and traditional archways and stone lions guarding the entryways. That was more like it.

In our short time there, we visited the usual Beijing landmarks:

• Badaling section of the Great Wall of China (We managed to climb up three watch towers before my friend’s asthma threatened to attack, after which, we took it easy and just walked around the area while snapping photos.)

• Forbidden City (the Chinese imperial palace that served as the home of the emperors and their households from the Ming Dynasty to the Qing Dynasty)

• Temple of Heaven (a complex of religious buildings where annual ceremonies of prayer for good harvest were held, usually headed by the emperor)

• Summer Palace (the imperial garden that was the summer retreat place, and later made the permanent residence of the Dowager Empress)

• Tian’anmen Square (the large plaza at the centre of the city named after the Tian’anmen Gate or Heavenly Gate noted for that violent student massacre in 1989)

• Mausoleum of Mao Tse Tung

We ticked off these items on our bucket lists and did the usual touristy things as well.

We watched an acrobatic show at the Chaoyang Theater, the most popular venue for this kind of show, and afterwards enjoyed a Peking duck meal at the Quanjude Restaurant, the place that claims to have the original all-duck menu banquet.

The food was impressive and what marked it as a truly authentic Chinese restaurant was the fact that they had a grand total of seven forks on the house. Our tour guide had to emphasize that due to its limited supply, only those who absolutely could not eat with chopsticks would be provided with forks. How funny was that?

Of course, that posed a big problem for our tour group, for it was mostly composed of elderly Filipino couples who are used to eating with a spoon and fork (that’s the Southeast Asian way – spoon on the right hand and fork on the left hand; table knives are not staple). My friend and I, being bona fide “foodies” and being quite adept with the use of all kinds of eating utensils in all manners of dining, willingly relinquished our rights to get our forks.

We stopped by the Beijing Zoo Panda Centre the next day to marvel at the resident pandas as they took their morning bath and ate their breakfast. I guess we were there too early that day because these patched furries refused to move their butts and dozed off for a few more minutes before we could see some action. Their cuteness made up for their tardiness though.

We also went to the Beijing Healing Centre (I don’t remember what it is called in either Chinese or English but it is something like this…you get the idea), where we learned the differences between Western medicine and Eastern healing. The first section was a museum of Chinese medicine with a collection of traditional medicine relics. The second section was a clinic with various types of traditional doctors that we could consult. I opted for one who could diagnose illnesses and health issues by looking at the lines on my palms, while my friend went for someone who examined her irises in both eyes.

Apparently, my nervous system was not at its best due to too much stress, lack of sleep, and poor diet. I was given a P2,000 worth of prescription, around $50 CAD in today’s exchange rate. All items could be purchased from the pharmacy located at the third section of the building, which looked more like a department store than a traditional drug store. Since I was on a tight budget, I bought the cheapest item on the list which was a box of herbal tea for around $5 and told the nice lady at the check-out counter that I’d get the rest when I visit Beijing again. Hahaha!

We got the chance to watch a traditional folk performance that night – a combination of opera, acrobatics, magic tricks, and stand-up comedy show, while feasting on a ten-course authentic Peking dinner at the Laoshe Teahouse, a garishly-decorated establishment named after a famous Chinese novelist and that attempts to capture the 1930s nostalgia of old Beijing.

We got a taste of some strong local culture right there, for our guide told us that this was reminiscent of the dining atmosphere in the olden days - loud, smoky, and very casual with lots of drunken frenzy and impromptu performances.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed the stand-up act even though I did not understand a single word. The performers were hilarious with their loud voices, exaggerated movements, and funny facial expressions. I guess I saw for myself what “Chinese acting” really was (a running joke we had at the TV station which referred to a style characterized by an actor’s overly-dramatic delivery of a long monologue, followed by over-the-top reactions from fellow actors)!

I also remember the friendly, almost toothless, old gentleman at the restaurant’s reception area who welcomed us warmly at the reception and thanked us profusely as we left. He wore a richly-embroidered silk gown and sported a long, thin, twisted white beard, and a half-bun hairstyle held by a pair of chopsticks. He reminded me of those Chinese sages featured in the yearly calendars we get from Chinese restaurants. He gave me a candy treat as he bade us goodbye. It was a fruit kebab with fresh strawberries and pineapples dipped in syrup. I thought that was so sweet. I asked my friend to take a picture of us together. I still have that photo in my album and whenever someone asks who he is, I always say, “He was my Chinese fling.”

After dinner, we were dropped off at the San Li Tun Commercial Centre, a popular branded merchandise mall, for some shopping. My friend and I were not really into this, so after a few minutes of browsing around the shops, we got bored and instead spent the rest of our time outside to sample some exotic street food from hawking vendors along the sidewalks.

Goodness knows what we ate! We couldn’t read the signs and the sellers did not speak English but were more than happy to give recommendations. Oh well, we decided to trust them and followed the motto, “Ignorance is bliss.” We ordered whatever looked tasty and ate whatever they gave us – skewers of meat, fish balls, tofu squares, dumplings, egg-filled thin pancakes, crispy elongated donuts, and some other unidentified things.

In our eagerness to try as much authentic local fare as our tummies could accommodate, we gulped down these goodies in a matter of minutes. I can safely bet we didn’t ingest deep-fried insects or scorpions (we would definitely recognize those) but I think we might have eaten some interesting animal parts, the specifics of which we didn’t care to find out. We just savoured the moment, enjoyed the treats, and ended up full and satisfied. More importantly, as you can probably tell, we did not die nor get sick.

The next night’s shopping at Wangfujing Street was definitely enjoyable. I felt more comfortable with the night market atmosphere compared to the previous night’s high-brow mall ambiance. This was more like shopping in China. My friend and I had a blast practising our haggling skills, on a few occasions because we really wanted to buy something, but in most cases, just for the fun of it.

You could find all sorts of things there from tacky souvenir items to pirated CDs and DVDs, and local wares to fake signature goods, which were actually of very good quality. I suspect that only trained “fashionista-eyes” could tell the difference between these products and the originals.

I am not really into branded goods (I don’t see why I should spend a ridiculous amount of money for ordinary items, save for the name of the designer. I mean, if a Louis Vuitton purse could multiply my money a thousand-fold or if a pair of Christian Louboutin shoes could take me to the Land of Oz  when I click the heels three times, then maybe I’d pay what they are charging…otherwise, I could always get a good-quality purse and a gorgeous pair of pumps for a portion of the price), and neither is my friend. Instead, we bought traditional items.  

I got a miniature set of assorted clay teapots and a box of traditional Chinese soapstone seals which are small, elaborate tiles with handles used for stamping. I thought these items perfectly combine the ancient arts of painting, calligraphy and engraving, which made them such gorgeous souvenirs.

However, I splurged a little bit on a beautiful silk cheongsam gown in my favourite colour (aquamarine blue) from the hotel boutique the following day. After getting a 20% discount (Would you believe you could haggle at the hotel shop, too?), I thought it was a fair price and I certainly got my money’s worth, for I used this in several formal-gown parties in Manila and a Halloween party in Vancouver. My friend got a red cheongsam top to go with black silk flowy pants.

There was also an artist stationed outside the boutique who was offering glass snuff bottles with custom-made painting. We saw these bottles at the night market, but figured that they were fake/mass-produced. This was authentic and painted on the spot, which made it a bit expensive. My friend wanted one. She chose the design and we watched the artist paint the bottle from inside-out. Such a delicate art form it is, considering the size of the bottle, the details of the landscape painting, and the intricacy of the brushwork. And it took less than hour to finish this with the artist personalizing the item by writing my friend’s name in Chinese characters. I would have loved to get one for myself but it was a bit pricey, and I had enough souvenirs from the night market.

Of course, in keeping with the Filipino tradition of pasalubong, (a homecoming gift for people after being away for some time or after traveling to a distant place), we bought souvenirs to take home to friends at work. My friend and I jointly bought a number of paperweights in the shape of the Great Wall of China, which we got at a good deal at a stall right outside the Great Wall Badaling entrance.

It was an interesting trip. China did not disappoint me. In fact, it made me want more.  I promised myself that someday, I would go back there. There is so much to see and experience – hip Shanghai, picturesque Guilin, historic Xi’an (home of the Terra Cotta Warriors, one other item in my bucket list), the mighty Yangtze and the Three Gorges (which will soon be eclipsed by a modern dam), the exotic villages along the Silk Road, the rugged terrains of Urumqui, and the mystic territory of Luoyang with its Shaolin Temple and Kung Fu lore….and perhaps even an extension to Tibet and Mongolia should be considered.