My surprise for this morning was that we were meeting in the lobby at 6 a.m. Oh joy. Today was action-packed with one stop after another. We climbed onto our tour bus, made a quick stop to pick up three additional people from Texas, and then headed to a jade “museum.” Our guide showed us, through a glass window, workers sitting at their stations and carving out everything from bracelets to interlocking dragon balls. All I could think was why weren’t they wearing any face or hand protection? Ah, the marvels of the sweatshops. We ventured in a bit more, and were educated on how to tell real jade from fake jade. A few of the points were that if you strike real jade, it has a higher pitch to it; and real jade, which can come in green, reddish and white, is never completely solid in color; it should have “bits” in it. Jade, we were told, is preferable to diamonds, because its value increases over time. The older it becomes, the richer the hue. She then pointed to a white sculpture and asked us to guess what it was. It ended up being bok choy, and apparently if it is positioned the right way in your house, it can bring in fortune. (If you are familiar with the coin-in-the-mouth frog, it serves a similar function.) The reason I put museum in quotes is because as soon as our 10 minute educational section was finished, we were taken to a large showroom where we could – all together now – SHOP. Just in case we were curious about buying a bracelet, we were shown how to buy one. If you lay it over your hand, it should rest between your pinkie and that fourth finger. Anything larger and it will fall off. I looked around a bit, but wasn’t really all that interested in spending money, so I ventured to the front of the shop and sat on the steps, waiting for everyone else.

The next stop on this tour was the Great Wall, Badaling to be precise, where we would eat lunch. We all gathered around a huge table – lazy Susan in the middle – and watched as one plate after another came from the kitchen. They were nice enough to make me a plate of vegetables, which featured carrots, cabbage, broccoli and cauliflower, but as anyone can guess, this won’t give you much energy. The bowl of rice was a welcome addition. I examined the plates as they went whirring around in a circle, and one was truly unappetizing. It was a full-sized fish – scales, bones, head, eyes and fins were all in tact. With the lunch ended, we headed out of the door for the bus. (Actually, we had to wait for some of the people to get coffee. Why so much coffee was necessary on this trip is beyond me.)

Our bus took us to a more scenic part of the wall. I guess this was where Mao made some kind of victory climb. Was it called Heroes’ Peak? On the way there we debated back and forth as to whether we would climb the mountain itself and then walk around on the wall or take the sky tram to the wall. I have no idea why anyone thought a mountain climb would have been the way to go. Walking around on the wall itself took hours, and was an exhausting experience. Climbing the mountain wouldn’t have given us any time to walk on the wall. Oh well. Everyone came to their senses and decided the sky tram was the way to go. This was my second tram ride – the first one being in Hong Kong – and this one was infinitely more harrowing. The car fit four people but we were crammed inside what looked like a pill capsule. It took us high above the trees and we felt every bump. I was glad to get out.

Out of the tram, you went down a bit then were presented with two choices: You could go to the right and begin a steep ascent OR you could continue straight, go around a corner, and then take a not-as-steep climb. Stupid me … I chose the right path. I’m not all that intelligent when I comes to percentages, but I would say the incline was about 45%. It was a monster bitch climbing that thing. Several things made it even more difficult. First, the steps weren’t uniform. You would take a huge step then a small one then a medium. There was no consistency. Second, when there weren’t steps, it was just slippery rocks. I’m glad it wasn’t raining. I decided to film my climb, so I could show people at home, and I sound like I’m close to a heart attack. I’m huffing and puffing like I’m a chronic smoker. And it just kept coming. I finally got to the top, and rested a bit. All kinds of people were up there – young, very elderly, and everything in between. The mixture of languages was interesting. Maybe more interesting was the fact that some of the women were wearing high heels! This was not the time to be fashionable.

The next move was to go down the other side, in a steep downward incline. I got about 100 feet. Stopped. Looked at the LONG stretch in front of me, and realized that if I continued going down, I would eventually have to turn around and climb back up. I think I said it out loud “Fuck this.” I was dripping with sweat. My back was positively soaked. And I was already half way through my Gatorade. I was giving up and going to the other side. Even though there weren’t stairs to navigate, it was still pretty dangerous. I had to hold onto the railing otherwise I could have tumbled to my death. Wouldn’t that have been awesome to put on my tombstone? Died on the Great Wall of China. It wasn’t quite as steep on the other side but it had a few spots that were ridiculously impassable. I’m sure I stood at one place for five minutes while tour groups filed past me both ways, never letting anyone else cut in. Very rude. And then in one spot it smelled of rank urine. A woman was mindlessly wiping it up with a wet mop.

We were supposed to be at the bus at 2:45, so at about 2 p.m. I jumped into the sky tram with a bunch of Chinese guys and rode it to the bottom. Thirsty and hot, I looked for some Gatorade. There were plenty of stands selling drinks and food, but as most were also selling the carcasses of dead animals, I decided to speak with my yuan and only buy from someone who wasn’t trafficking in corpses. (I think the animals were dead tanuki – Japanese raccoon dogs.) I finally found one stand. She not only had Gatorade but she had tomato flavored potato chips. The pop singer and sometime actor Jay Chou’s face is plastered on the bag. Food in hand, I started up the hill to the bus. I was side-tracked by a fluffy white puffball of a puppy. He was running around being cute, and I can never resist the urge to pet a dog. The minute I spoke in that magic dog voice, he came over to me. He was super soft, but a bit dirty. Thankfully he wasn’t a stray otherwise I would have snatched him up and smuggled him home. At the bus, we waited. And waited. Several members of our group decided that they would ignore the time, which would have been business as usual for us, but as we had those Texans with us, I felt increasingly embarrassed and annoyed. The lost members turned up half of an hour late. No apology was offered.

Our last stop was a silk “museum.” Our guide told us all about the horrible practice of silk making – hundreds of silk worms are boiled alive so that their cocoons can be unspun and turned into cloth – and then she showed us to the store. Buddhists are not supposed to buy silk, but I fell in love with some red pillow cases decorated with flowers. Thinking that these weren’t standard size, I figured that I should buy the pillows to match. Surely I will burn in hell for this purchase. Ha ha. Or I’ll come back as a silk worm and be boiled alive and then eaten by the Chinese. Seriously. I’ve always wondered what happened to those worms after they are killed, and our guide told us that the Chinese consider them to be a delicacy. They eat them so that they maintain a youthful appearance. Thanks, but I’ll just look like an old hag. If you’re wondering how I got the pillows into my luggage … these people think of everything. They suck all of the air out of the cases, so that the pillows are flatter than a laptop. This isn’t to say that it wasn’t a bitch getting those into my luggage. They were actually longer than my luggage, so I had to cram them in.

Since we had an early morning – the agenda says rise at 5 a.m. – we didn’t bother going out to eat. Instead, we dined in the hotel’s dining room. It might have been tempting, but I passed on tuna fish sandwich day three and instead had the buffet, which included fried potatoes and ice cream. (The latter was absolutely dire.) Afterwards, I went out for one last walk. It was late, but I’m glad I did it otherwise I wouldn’t have known that all of the main buildings and structures along Tiananmen Square are lit up until 10 p.m. It also gave me a chance to give the beggars some money. Maybe that would make up for the silk worm massacre required for my pillows. I doubt it.

I forgot to mention that while my group was out shopping the night before, they got dinner, leaving me to figure out what to eat. My best option seemed to be the hotel’s dining room. One glance at the menu told me to try the white fish in lemon sauce. I ordered, and then in about three minutes my waitress came back to tell me they were all out. My second choice was a tuna fish sandwich and French fries. While I waited, I contemplated how it could be that so many restaurants in China consistently ran out of food. It was mind boggling. Didn’t they have any idea how to order enough for dinner crowds? My food arrived. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life. It was tuna salad on three slices of bread cut majestically. (Sort of a club sandwich but with tuna.) And then there were the fries. I cannot explain my elation at taking the first bite. In fact, I think I shed a few tears. Starvation does things like that to you, I guess. When I got back to the States, I explained to Stephen that in the three weeks I was in East Asia, I never saw any ketchup. This was no exception. Yes, there was a red colored sauce served with my fried potatoes but on tasting it, I realized it was sweet and sour sauce. No tomatoes were in sight.

Back to June 8. I woke up feeling pretty decent. We were supposed to meet at 7:30 for breakfast but I couldn’t get ready in time. Our next rendez-vous time was 9 a.m., but when I turned up in the lobby, only a few people were there. This was one thing that began to annoy me as the trip progressed: Some people’s inability to keep to any kind of schedule. At least one person, and I’ll avoid names here, had to get coffee every five minutes, so we spent time waiting for him or her to get a fix. Then that same person had some sort of inability to meet the group on time. If we were to meet at 9:30, he or she would come swaggering in 15 to 20 minutes late. What the reason was is beyond me. Just a person who can’t think of other people’s feelings, apparently. If I added up all of the time we spent waiting for this person, I’m sure I would find a day wasted. The worst part, though, is that this person’s laissez-faire attitude began to spread like a virus, until time itself began to lose meaning. I don’t have any problem with not keeping to a schedule, but when it takes several hours to get to a location that doesn’t stay open 24 hours, and you leave late in the morning, you end up rushing through and missing most of what it has to offer.

Today was a good example of that. It was absolutely chucking it down. No one wanted to get wet. Therefore, we took our sweet time getting ready to leave for the day. On the agenda was the Summer Palace, which I really wanted to see. It’s supposed to be breathtakingly beautiful. (Check it out at http://www.absolutechinatours.com/china-travel/Beijing-attractions/Summer-palace.html.) But because of the rain, we scrapped the idea. (We had umbrellas but nevermind.) Our second choice was the Temple of Heaven. Built in the 15^th century, this is where the Ming emperors offered sacrifices to Heaven. The central building called the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests is probably the best known and photographed structure, and it graces the cover of my book on Confucianism. Let’s go. I was ready. We arrived and were given a few hours to explore. It was really, really raining, but I didn’t care. The camera rarely stopped snapping photos. I just hugged my umbrella tightly to my head. To get to the “meat” of the compound, you have to walk along a long enclosed corridor. People were gathered doing all sorts of activities, from playing football with what looked like a shuttlecock to getting a singing lesson. Yes, you heard that correctly. The woman teaching them looked like she just got off guard duty, too. Once I had examined all of the main buildings, I took off for the Echo Wall, the Fasting Palace and the gardens. It’s probably me, but I have the hardest time trying to figure out maps. I usually end up going in one direction then once I realize I’m nowhere I’m supposed to be, I have to go back and try again. Makes for a lot of walking. I was trying to find the Fasting Palace, and after a lot of back and forth came upon it. I walked up to the guard, who made a gesture that I needed to go to another booth. The person working it was asleep. She woke up only to indicate that my ticket wasn’t getting me into this building. I wasn’t about to fork out more money – my time was running out – so I set off for the gardens. After all, did I really need to visit a Fasting Palace? The whole country had been a fasting palace.

In amongst the foliage – weeping willows – is an infinity shaped pavilion. That alone was worth the long trek in the rain. Every inch of the ceiling is handpainted with a different mythological scene. Flowers and bands of colors cover the rest of the structure. You could literally spend hours with our neck craned back, examining it. This was what I wanted China to be. Not dead dogs, strange food, hot weather, and irritating company. I wanted this. The gorgeous, lush and exotic gardens. The red pavilions with exquisite brushwork. And to top it off, because of the rain, the temperature was in the low 70s. I stopped at a rose garden before sprinting back in my soaked tennis shoes to the front gate. I was already about 15 minutes late, but figured since we had spent every day waiting on other members of the group, it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. I arrived, excited by what I had seen, only to discover that a few people had decided that they wouldn’t wait for me. They had already taken off in a taxi.

I don’t remember if we ate lunch or what we did for a meal, but I think it was decided again that people would go out shopping. Oh shopping. How repellent those words had become to my ears. Since we had only one night left in Beijing, I decided – what a novely – to go out walking, looking at a nearby garden and trying to catch a glimpse of Mao’s dead body. The best thing about the Day’s Inn in Beijing is that it is within walking distance of the Forbidden City. Set your feet in motion, and in about 10 minutes you are staring at Mao’s big mug, which, by the way, you can no longer walk under. I was just watching Bernardo Bartolucci’s home video of China from 1985, and you could clearly walk under the giant painting. I think security has been tightened since the Tiananmen Square “incident.”

At the entrance to the park is this giant, metal ball that looks like it’s disintegrating to ribbons. In back of that are a few stone planks onto which are carved flowers, etc. I took about 10 photos of that ball, hoping to catch my sexy reflection in it, but the damn flash kept going off. I had to settle for shots of my Birkenstock wearing feet. Bah. To the left of the ball is a stream filled with giant carp. Walk a bit further, and on the right are some covered walkways. Look up and you see beautiful bands of color and mythological imagery. Further along the route, and there’s a red curved bridge. From a distance, with the willow branches hanging over it, you know instantly that you are no longer in the United States. This feels like East Asia. Continue down the pathway and you encounter random art work. My favorites were a giant beetle and a snail. As I was snapping away – at a gazebo, at a wooden boat floating in the water – I kept wondering why anyone would choose shopping for cheapo trinkets over this. For me the purpose of traveling to a foreign country is experiencing its sights and smells, for better or worse. I can shop anywhere, but how many times can I experience that red bridge? Hear a cacophony of Mandarin conversations drifting from a gazebo? I don’t imagine this experience will come again.

I reached the end of the park. Navigating my way from behind a dragon decorated fence, I entered a public area that led to the square in front of Mao’s portrait. I had been here late at night and during the day, and it is always bustling with people. People who are posing next to the gigantic lion dogs, leaning on the metal lamp posts (decorated with flowers), or just trying to avoid the people who are trying to sell tat. One of the items for sale was a stringless, dancing paper man. Soldiers also maintain a constant presence. They march two by two, and in one instance, I encountered about 10 of them all lined up and heading toward a parked Police van. Maybe I’m paranoid – I am – but I kept thinking, if anything goes down, those guys are opening fire on us. One reason I hate crowds.

If you want to get to Tiananmen Square, you have to go into one of several underground passages that bring you up on the other side of the street. Because it was raining again, a lot of people were standing around, waiting for it to stop. It is in these underground passages where the less than fortunate people beg. (We saw them, too, outside of the Forbidden City.) When I say “less than fortunate” I mean those with club feet, missing limbs, and more. One guy that I encountered was kowtowing on a rug. He was missing a hand and looked really rugged. He kept repeating “xie xie,” as his body bobbed up and down. We were told not to give money to anyone, because I guess it only attracts more people. I don’t know. I felt like a piece of shit every time I “pretended” they weren’t around. I don’t know what’s worse – being a “rich” American and thus the target of price hikes and unwanted buskers, OR feeling bad that I was a rich American in a country where people work in sweatshops so we can buy cheap shit at Wal-Mart? I’m not Catholic, but boy do I have my fair share of guilt. On the other side of the street, I decided not to cross over to Tiananmen just yet. I wanted to know where this street lead, so onward I went. Eventually, I went past a national museum – closed until 2010, I think, for upgrades – a railway museum, and, on the other side of the street, some impressively large, very traditional looking buildings. (More on that later.)

Even though my legs were getting tired, and I was soaked to the skin again, I found myself continuing on. I was drawn forward by a large, very ornate gateway. I said a silent prayer to Kuan-yin and dashed across the busy street to get closer to it. Just before the gateway – and we’re talking massive in scale – was a street car, and on the other side some very odd looking buildings. I continued forward, trying to figure out what I was looking at. I can only guess that it was a shopping center only most of the buildings weren’t occupied. And yet, tons of people were milling around. For a minute, I thought maybe I had stumbled onto a movie set. Actually, I got that feeling a lot in China. I would enter an area that didn’t quite feel real. Maybe it was the heat exhaustion, too, that contributed to my dazed and confused state. (I just looked on a map, and it looks like I might have stumbled upon the Dazhalan Market, which is “Beijing’s most ancient and famous downtown business area with its own unique style.”)

Having seen all I could see – and not wanting to continue walking for fear I wouldn’t make it back in one piece – I turned around and headed toward Tiananmen Square. I passed several imposing buildings that were closed, until I got to Chairman Mao’s Memorial Hall. It is, I believe, where you can see Mao’s corpse, however, the building closed at noon, so that was a no go. I did stop in front of the bigger than life size sculptures of triumphant, often shirtless workers, obviously heralding a new and brighter world under communism. Having been to Paris a few times, I couldn’t help but think these were recalling the sculptural reliefs on the Arc de Triomphe. They have the same energy and power to them. I went to the end of the street, and, I think, had to cross back over. I seem to recall that if you wanted to go into the square itself, which was cordoned off, you had to reemerge at the crosswalk. After you crossed the street, you had to go through a security hut, where you put all of your belongings onto a conveyer belt. A lot of police/military were in there, and being a white chick I was a bit unnerved. Was I gonna get frisked and shouted at for being a capitalist? No. The Chinese couple in front of me were hassled more than I was. They didn’t even ask me to put my camera through the security equipment. As I’ve said before, it’s all very arbitrary how they handle security.

I walked toward the Monument to the People’s Heroes, which is a pillar you can’t get close to – also chained off – and got a few shots of the Great Hall of the People, which is across another street. In all, Tiananmen Square is very large. You could hold a massive rock concert here, but that’s about all it is: A large empty square. Since it was getting dark, I figured I’d head back, download my photos, and get some dinner. I think we were supposed to meet in the lobby at 7 p.m. I was there, but no one else was. After waiting about 15 minutes, I muttered “screw it” under my breath and went out again. A guy we somehow “picked up” at the airport – don’t ask – told me that there was a big bookstore within walking distance of the hotel. He said it was something like five floors tall. The only thing I really wanted to get in China was a copy of John Woo’s “Red Cliff” – parts one and two. If you don’t know, this is an epic film based on an ancient Chinese tale and starring Takeshi Kaneshiro and Tony Leung. I’ve been following news of it for ages, but haven’t seen any kind of release date for the U.S. (Gee, there’s a surprise.) I was determined to get my own copy rather than get shafted buying it on eBay. I didn’t find the store he was talking about, but I did find a mall. In it were a bunch of restaurants – the only food I recognized was at a Sizzler and the price was about 10 times the normal food price (we call this gouge the Westerners) – and a music and movie store. Yeah. I found the DVD section, hoping that the titles would be in Mandarin and English. I found a few box sets of the films of Zhang Yimou, and then realized that I owned all of the titles. Finally, I found what I was looking for – “Red Cliff: Part I.” I took my prize up to the counter, and took the chance that someone might speak English. The manager did, and she promised me that there were English subtitles. I hope that’s true. Now I have to change my computer to Region 6 so I can watch the damn thing. As I was walking out of the store – floating on a cloud, really – I saw a display, I’m guessing of new releases. There I found a different copy of “Red Cliff.” I grabbed it, and took it to the counter. I asked if this was the second part, and again, the manager came to my rescue. Yes, she said. This was the second part. I bought it. Even if they don’t play on my computer or even if they don’t have subtitles, I only paid about $14 for the two of them. I’m sure I would have paid five times that price on eBay.

I looked around a bit more in the mall for a place to eat, but nothing looked appetizing. The biggest problem of finding food in China is this: First, nothing is listed in English (no surprise, I guess) and Second, the food is never easily identifiable. You find some sort of meat looking thing with some vegetables and then drowned in sauces. I’m just not that adventurous, I guess. Outside the mall, I was getting really hungry. I found a McDonald’s a few buildings down, and actually went inside. The menu looked about the same as the American one, but since I never eat at McDo’s I needed some kind of confirmation of what I was looking at. No English language menus. I left, only to find a walk-up ice cream window on the outside. I ordered a twist cone – it was vanilla ice cream with some kind of green swirl. I bought it thinking it was green tea, but the green stuff didn’t smell like green tea. I tried scraping it off, but it went through the entire cone. I tossed it in the bin. (I know, so wasteful and evil.) Deciding to call it a night, I walked along this crowded area where there were tons of small stalls filled with a bunch of touristy tat. (That’s about all you find in China. Mao watches that break after five minutes – bought one of those pieces of shit on a whim. Lanterns. Satin shirts with dragons on them. Fans. Statues various. All kinds of crap that you could find at World Market.) One side of the street had some food stalls, so I went over to see what they were selling. This must be the “strange food” stalls we had been told about. There were large beetles for sale, wriggling scorpions on a stick (poor things), and other creepy crawlies. The white tourists seemed more interested in this fare than the locals. I also saw a large, spinning mass of meat that they were cutting up. It looked like something you see at a gyro restaurant, but there was no knowing what this meat was. And as I don’t eat red meat anyhow, I moved along. Back at the hotel, I ventured into the dining room and ordered my old standby – the tuna fish sandwich. It was just as delicious the second time around.

I will say one more thing before closing this very long entry. Nighttime is when the people riding the pedicabs come out. For some reason, I was a particular target for their refrain of “hello lady.” I don’t know if the reason was because I was Western looking, and they think we are fat and lazy, but I got kind of annoyed at the constant pestering for me to climb into their pedaled contraption. In Shanghai, we had taken a motorized pedicab and it was a fun experience. But in Beijing, when I was within walking distance from my destination, I didn’t want to be bothered. And let me tell you, they are bloody persistent. One guy pedaled after me and then kept circling me while I took photos of a gateway in front of a hotel. At first, I tried to be polite to the constant pestering to buy things, but I noticed that by the end, I would just flash them a grumpy look and wave my hand rapidly in that “no” and “leave me alone” fashion. I don’t even like having a salesperson come up to me in the U.S., so this experience proved incredibly annoying.

Woke up feeling weak, and my heart was fluttering. Initially, I didn’t think much of it, but after getting ready for the day thought that this probably wasn’t normal, especially since I also felt breathless. Since I still had an Internet connection, I looked up my symptoms and got back the result of “extreme dehydration.” If I didn’t do something about this, the web doctor said that the next stage could be convulsions. Realizing that I hadn’t actually had very much to drink the day before, I grabbed my purse and walked to a nearby “convenience” store, where I bought a 2 liter bottle of water (now that we were in Beijing, I couldn’t find Evian to save my life. I would have to do with Chinese water. Sigh.), some 7-Up and some Pepsi Max. The total cost was less than $2. I took them back to the hotel room, and guzzled them. Even after a few minutes, I still felt ill.

Today, we were slated to go to the Forbidden City. It was hot, and the FC is HUGE. I didn’t know if I was up to the task of walking around. I asked to see Ah-Yen, who is a nurse. She came to the room, and I explained how I was feeling. She took my pulse, and told me it was normal. I asked her if I might be dehydrated, and she said that without knowing my medical background, she couldn’t say. Hmmm. Then I was told that I was probably having a panic attack. Hmm, again. The suggestion next was that maybe I was having nutritional issues because of the way I’d been eating. Grrr. Had I been in better shape I might have said something about the fact that being a vegetarian means actually eating something other than a few stalks of broccoli for a meal, but that’s hindsight. People really should get a clue what vegetarians eat, and realize that there are different types of vegetarians, and if someone in a group has dietary restrictions, maybe you should let them buy a separate meal and not make them pick through the wreckage of everyone else’s. Moving on …

I contemplated staying behind in the hotel, but since this was the one and only time I would have in the Forbidden City, I decided to drag my dying ass along. As this was our 11^th day together, everyone was keen to split up and go our own way. We would meet back in a few hours. Normally, I would happily split up, but being as I felt like I had one foot in the grave, I didn’t really want to be alone, especially when you looked across one of the courtyards and saw hundreds upon hundreds of people. If you collapsed in the middle of this throng, who knows what would happen next. Plus, I had no way to contacting anyone. Because I had consumed so much water, I had to find the lavatory. Lovely squat toilets. Be sure if you ever go to China that you bring plenty of toilet paper AND hand sanitizer, because neither are in abundance. Also, get used to the idea that you cannot flush your toilet paper, but are supposed to throw it into a small trash can next to the bog. How sanitary is this? On the plus side, if there is a plus side, the toilets are usually well staffed with someone making the rounds to empty the trash cans. Shudder. When I came out of the toilets, I wandered over a bit to look at a bunch of lion dog statues all huddled together. Was this a deliberate arrangement or was this where the surplus lion dogs went? Coming around back into the courtyard, I looked around. Everyone had buggered off. For a moment, I was overcome with dread. I really didn’t think that in my condition, I should be alone. Luckily I bumped into our tour guides and one of my fellow travelers.

We walked along as slowly as was humanly possible, taking in every nook and cranny. I don’t really think it’s possible to see the Forbidden City in one day. It’s essentially one section nestled within another one with many side areas for exploring. Remember this was a city within a city, and the emperor lived here his entire life. He didn’t leave, which is why Pu Yi, the “last emperor,” had no idea what was going on in China during his reign. He was blissfully oblivious to the changes taking place – from the Japanese occupation to the eventual Cultural Revolution. I would imagine it wasn’t unlike the life of the Dalai Lama, who only very rarely left the Potala Palace. It’s all well and good living in a dream world, but how do you cope when real life comes crashing through your door? The only thing that really annoyed me about the Forbidden City is the fact that all of the buildings are closed up with glass windows. To see what’s inside, you have to press your hands up against it and peer inside. The few areas that aren’t glass encased are so crowded with pushy tourists that you have to become super pushy yourself just to get a look, and then it’s bloody dark inside. Thank goodness I had my camera with me. Once I had jostled my way forward, I pointed the lens inside and took a (flash) photo. It was only later that I could see what had been inside.

Everyone was getting a bit hungry – I had had a trusty Clif bar – so we stopped at a small restaurant. One look at the menu told me that I would be going hungry again. I don’t remember all of the options, but the one my companions ate was beef curry. No beef for me, thanks, and eating curry when you are sick … well, that’s just asking for trouble. Just thinking of another unpleasant encounter with a squat toilet was enough to put me off of food. I got a drink of green tea instead. After lunch, there wasn’t much time left, so I decided to brave out on my own. (These guys were going way too slowly.) I at least wanted to reach the gardens. I bid adieu and took off. The gardens weren’t really all that spectacular, but they did present me with a fantastic surprise. At one of the various food stalls I found someone selling Lays original potato chips. Not tomato or cucumber flavored. Not chicken or curry flavored. ORIGINAL flavor. I savored every bite. I think I washed them down with a 7-Up. On the way back, I was beginning to feel sick again. That didn’t stop a few Asian women from stopping me so that I could take a photo with them. Two fingers up, smile and cheese.

Back at the hotel, we got our new room assignments. No more bed sharing. And then everyone decided that they wanted to go out for another bout of shopping. I know my limits. I had exerted myself enough already – and shopping was really the least of my interests – so I stayed behind in the hotel. This would give me a chance to rehydrate. I drank water until bed time. I woke up in the middle of night shivering. My teeth were chattering and I couldn’t stop moving involuntarily. My mind immediately thought about the next step of dehydration, and I panicked. My skin didn’t feel cool to the touch. I woke up my roommate and asked her if she was cold. She said that it was cool in the room. (The thermometer was set at around 21 C, which is high 60s.) I crawled back into bed, wrapped myself up tightly into my comforter and tried to warm up. At some point I fell back asleep.

I decided that since we were leaving around 9:30 a.m. for Beijing, I wouldn’t bother with the horrid basement breakfast. After getting ready, I dashed out of the hotel. When we had arrived in Shanghai I noticed a sign that had mentioned a nearby temple. I had said something to the others about it but was met with silence. (I could almost see the tumbleweeds rolling down the street.) If I wanted to see it, I guess I was doing it alone. I found the sign again, and headed down the road, which was another busy, bustling area full of small stalls that were overflowing with antiques and, in most, touristy knick knacks. The temple was about half way down the block.

I saw that admission was about 5 yuan, which is less than $1, so I dug into my purse for the money and waited. I could clearly see an old man sitting inside. I waited some more. Hmmm. A few women approached and I let them past me. He opened the window and took their money. Maybe he thought I was waiting for something else. I moved closer to the window and finally he opened up and took my money. The only downside to going in was that you couldn’t take photos. And that sucks as that was my raison d’etre for going on this trip. Nevermind.

Inside there was a front courtyard that lead to a much larger one. At my extreme left was a stall that sold amulets and other religious paraphernalia. I think there was also a large metal container filled with sand. Stuck in it were sticks of incense. People also burned large red candles. Once through the door, you could see a giant gold Buddha surrounded by attendants. I have no idea who these people were. At the back of him was Kuanyin, bodhisattva of compassion. In another courtyard, you found side shrines. One of the figures looked like Manjusri. As I exited, I walked by another stall, selling religious items. My eye stopped on a mala bracelet that I had to have. The beads were agate and green jade (undoubtedly not real), and inscribed on some of them were swastikas. You would never, in a million years, find this in the States, simply because people see swastika and think “Nazi.” I bought it for 50 yuan (about $7), and put it on. In fact, I wore that mala the entire time I was in China and Japan, and never once got a funny look. Of course the minute I got back to the U.S., I felt funny wearing it and took it off.

I didn’t have a lot of time left, so I wandered along the street a bit. Right across from the temple was a stall selling antiques, mostly statues of various gods and goddesses. I went inside primarily because he had a small bronze of Confucius. (The man seemed amazed that I knew who Master Kung was.) I put him down after I spied a beat up prayer wheel. The day before I had gone into a shop specializing in Tibetan religious articles, but decided not to buy anything because the guy was super pushy. (When we left, he chased us down the street!) Also, I always wonder how they get these items. Anyway, I talked the shopkeeper down to about 50 yuan for the prayer wheel. And it probably was worth that. The turquoise was coming off in places. It really was a ratty old thing, but he assured me it was an “antique.” Again I wondered how the guy got this religious object, and realized I maybe didn’t want to know.

With even less time available, I navigated my way up the street to a crowded row on which you found more locals than tourists shopping. I was hoping it wasn’t too early for this one shop to be open. The night before, I had stumbled upon a stall in which a man was selling traditional clothing and cloths from his village. He didn’t speak much English, but was very good at charades. What he couldn’t explain that way, he relied on pictures and text from a lovely coffee book. He pointed out that the animals and flowers that appeared in the designs were totems and had religious significance. That sold me! I didn’t come to China to buy some tat that you can find at any import shop in Omaha. I wanted something more authentic. The only downside was that his items were really expensive and unlike most shopkeepers, this guy didn’t really negotiate much. (The night before I had fallen in love with a sequined and beaded piece of cloth used to carry a baby. It was about 2300 yuan, which is more than $300.) Deciding that I should find something a bit more in my budget, my eye landed on an antique pillow cover. He told me that it was one of a kind and was 60-years old. It’s a beautiful hot pink with flowers and has a gold fringe at the bottom. We discovered when I got home that it also has snaps along the top edge, so it must have attached to something. The other piece I got was more modern. It is a table runner made of black cloth and red embroidery. Both items had totemic birds on them. Before I left his shop, the man took the older piece from me, carefully laid it out on the floor, and snapped a photo of it. He suggested again that this was a one-of-a-kind thing. Finally, he broke out a photo album so he could show me photos of his mother and father; wife and baby. In one photo, he sat smiling with his family in a very crowded room in Shanghai. I was glad I had decided to spend my tourist money here. (As a side note, the total cost of the items was about 460 yuan. I didn’t have enough in cash, so he walked me back to the ATM. In my haste, I either forgot my ATM card or the machine ate it. Either way, I didn’t leave Shanghai with my card. This detail will be important much later in my trip.) I took his photo and rushed back to the hotel, stopping only for a very, very tiny vanilla ice cream cone and a Coke from McDonald’s (together they were about 10 yuan, which is a bit more than $1.)

I got back to my room at about 9:20. We were meeting in 10 minutes so I figured I had a bit of time to “freshen up.” The phone rang, telling me it was time to go. I grabbed my bags, which had expanded exponentially over the last week, and went out the door. We checked out and stood around downstairs for taxis. While we were waiting an elderly Chinese man came up to some of the women in my party and began speaking in fluent English. He then switched to Spanish and German. Very amazing. Our taxis arrived and the drivers loaded up our bags. At the airport, I bought a How to Speak Mandarin book, because I was tired of being absolutely befuddled, and another Doreamon figurine. Our gate was moved without any kind of announcement, so it was a bloody good thing I chanced upon Sarah. As I stood waiting for our plane to leave, I watched this very odd cartoon about an angsty polar bear (I guess he’s very popular in China) who had a run in with a little dog.

Once we got on the plane, we were served our meals – rice and spicy pork (guess what I didn’t eat), some fruit … and told that our flight was delayed an hour. Air congestion or something. Don’t they plan these flights? Or do they just keep adding more until they reach maximum congestion? Who knows. Anyway, the flight, in total, took about two hours. We arrived in Beijing, found our hotel (a dark grey Day’s Inn that looks very institutional), and checked in. This is when we discovered that there was only one double bed per room. No one was about to sleep with their roommate, so negotiations for new rooms began. By the time that was worked out, everyone was starving. But rather than get food straight away, we decided to go out and walk to the Forbidden City. We wandered a bit around the square, marveling at the giant Mao portrait and quaking a bit by the massive police presence, until we had exhausted our options. Finally it was time to get food. For some reason, this was going to be our “big night” out. Taking advice from the guy who had bought our dinner in Shanghai, it was decided that we would find this much lauded Peking duck restaurant. (Oh joy!) We hopped into cabs, told them where we wanted to go, and off we went. But, for some reason, our cabbie had no idea where this restaurant was. He drove a bit. Stopped. Circled around. Got OUT of the cab in the middle of traffic to call the other driver. Yeah, fun city. I was so hungry by this point that I was near tears. I had had a small ice cream cone, a Clif bar, some Coke, some rice and a bit of fruit. And I know that a lot of the others had this much or less. Finally, finally, we found the restaurant, and got out of the cabs.

Inside the place was buzzing. There were so many people waiting to eat it was unbelievable. It shouldn’t be surprising to learn then that the wait time for a table was 40 minutes. Everyone was game for waiting. If a pair of chopsticks would have been nearby I would have either eaten them or used them to stab out my eyes. For entertainment value, you could watch a slew of chefs preparing the ducks in the front window. (They blow air under the skin and then hang them on hooks … I didn’t get much further than that.) I decided to fuck off and walk around the area, hoping to get some photos. My inner voice told me to find another restaurant (there were about five others in the area), because I would be done eating by the time we got a seat, but I didn’t. I took pictures until it was dark then ventured back. I waited another 10 minutes, and we got our “room.” Because of the size of the crowd, we had to pay an extra fee for a special room. Do it, we said. Once we sat down, the ordered began. Peking duck, which was astronomically priced, and then some plates of vegetables. I think we started with broccoli but they were out, and then we ordered another vegetable that they were out of. In the end, we got some green beans and asparagus. (I think eggplant was also ordered but it had a funky sauce that was unidentifiable.) Getting irritated at the lack of food, I suggested we get bowls of rice, which cost extra. Naturally. To drink I ordered a Japanese green tea, thinking it was maccha. Nope. It was loose twigs in a tall glass.

Eventually the vegetables arrived, and I took some. I was almost sick to my stomach, I was so hungry. (For some dumb reason, I had forgotten to pack extra Clif bars in my purse. Wouldn’t make that mistake again.) The duck arrived quite a bit later, and the waitress demonstrated how to eat it with the plate of condiments and sauces each of us received. Everyone said that the duck “melted” in their mouths. All I could think of were the open-sided trucks we had passed on the highway that had ducks crammed in, one on top of the other. The birds didn’t look particularly healthy or clean. Bon Appetit, suckers. All of the dead animals consumed, and it was time for dessert. We had a fancy fruit plate of cherries, watermelon and some other kind of melon. The cost of the meal came to price of a small nation’s GNP, and everyone was marveling at how they could eat this “every night.” Being my typical starving self, I chimed in that in the future I would rather have the cost of the meal so I could spend it on something useful.

Back at the hotel, I decided that I would sleep on the floor. I’m not one for sharing beds with anyone other than a husband and some canines. That’s just not my thing. Someone delivered an extra comforter, and I squirreled away into my nest. Only four days left, I told myself, taking much comfort in the idea.

]]> http://jrfielding.com/wp/?feed=rss2&p=181 0 http://jrfielding.com/wp/?p=164 http://jrfielding.com/wp/?p=164#comments Fri, 05 Jun 2009 18:09:30 +0000 jrfielding http://jrfielding.com/wp/?p=164 For some odd reason, our air conditioning doesn’t work. It starts out OK, but by morning it is fucking hot in the room. I woke up because of the heat. The others said they woke up in a pile of sweat. So lovely. Our breakfast came courtesy of the hotel, and it was in the basement. Very yuck. The only thing edible I could find was a few slices of white toast with margarine. Not really very filling.

The day started off as cool and overcast, and our plans were to walk to the Bund, which is the eclectic architectural area near the river then go up the Pearl Tower and go inside to the Shanghai Museum. Because of construction we walked in the street until we could get back onto the sidewalk. It was pretty scary, let me tell you. We stopped into a Giorgio Armani store and old bank that has been restored. The ceiling has some beautiful art work celebrating cities around the world, including New York, Paris and Calcutta. I think everyone was tired of Chinese food, so we ate at Pizza Hut for lunch. But this wasn’t your typical Pizza Hut experience. They had a Hawaiian theme – it was decorated with tropical flowers and some of the workers were wearing leis – and you were handed a menu, with choices ranging from smoked salmon salad (I had it and it was essentially another appetizer) to pizza. They also had French style desserts like a mango mousse pie to a chocolate cake. Interestingly enough, even though the desserts were rich, the portions were tiny. The cake alone was probably three-quarters the size of one you would get in the States.

Because I always use my cell phone as a clock, I didn’t bring a watch. And that’s been a pain because we are always meeting at such and such place at such and such time. I tried remedying the situation the night before, by buying this cheapy Mao watch, but it died five minutes after I bought it. Now I was going to be serious and get something that wasn’t shit. I had seen a Swatch on the way to the restaurant and decided to go back. Their selection wasn’t huge, and I was having a hard time finding a watch I wanted. I contemplated getting a commerative Beijing Olympic watch, but wasn’t sold on them. I decided, finally, on a James Bond villain series watch from one of the old Roger Moore vehicles. The reason I got it is because it is decorated with a skeleton (the face is a skull), and it glows in the dark!

Since I was in the back of the group, and trying to get every photo that I could, I didn’t hear what exactly was going on, but we took this Sightseeing Tunnel that, I think took us under the water, (I could be wrong). It was the funkiest thing ever. It was like a Pink Floyd light show with spinning Twilight Zone effects in the beginning and then random words spoken like Paradise and Hell toward the end. It ended with computer sounds. I recorded it, because it can’t really be described in words. It doesn’t make any sense. (At one point, those wavy armed guys who draw your attention to car dealerships crashed into the side of our train.) Just bizarre.

On the other side, we went up into the Pearl Tower, which reminded me a bit of the Seattle needle. Since it was positively pissing it down, you couldn’t see anything. It was very cloudy. Eventually, though it cleared up, just in time for some of our group members to tell us that if you go down one floor, you can have an unusual experience. You can go out into this area where the floor is glass. It’s longer than my body, and it’s very unnerving at the beginning. You are terrified you are going to fall to your death. Thankfully, there is a railing on the outside of the building that gives you a sense of stability. Actually the floor and the outer wall is glass. I got loads of photos. Before I left the area, an Asian girl came over to me and asked me to get into a photo with her. They don’t often see freaks like me, apparently. I shudder to think which social network site I’m showing up on.

One of Peter’s former students – from 13 years ago – lives in Shanghai, and he said he wanted to take us to dinner. It’s in a mall, believe it or not, but this mall must be high end as all of the designers have shops in there. I forget the name of the restaurant, but apparently it stated in Toronto, Canada, and then came over to China. It has been written up as one of the best in Shanghai. I got buckwheat noodles with mushrooms (fungus as they call them) and scallions. It is the best meal I’ve had so far. They also got some delicious spinach cooked in garlic oil. (I could eat this every day of my life.) And for dessert these huge towers of shaved ice mixed with milk and then surrounded by mangos or all kinds of beans. The bean one was good but it was overwhelming. Too many beans. On our way out of store, I stopped at a Doreamon shop. I have been pretty surprised that this Japanese cartoon cat (it is blue and doesn’t have ears) is as popular as it is, and also Astroboy. I got a cheap aluminum water container (about $7!) and a plush Doreamon. Naturally, I’m the only one in the group who knows who the cat is so no one was impressed with my purchases.

Robin wanted to get back to the hotel for more shopping, so four of us piled into a taxi. We handed him our hotel’s card, but the address must have been too small of print for him, because he was asking us all sorts of questions in Mandarin. Of course, none of us speak Mandarin, so I was terrified we would end up back in Hong Kong. Somehow, we miraculously got there. Sarah, Robin and I walked around a bit, but I was kind of tired. I got a few shots and went to the hotel.

Thankfully, we left the hotel at around 9 a.m. Our flight was at noon, I think. I was more than happy to leave. After we got to the airport, we went n the regular security checks. The way they do this seems very by the book and random. You can’t take liquids of any kind on your flight, so I guzzled my drink down. Some people wanted to chuck their hand sanitizers, which are liquid. No one had them confiscated. I went through the metal detector and the alarm went off. I pulled everything out of my pockets, and the woman guard was concerned about my Ventolin inhaler. Ah-Yen came over to tell her it was medicine and they couldn’t take it. She then told me that they insisted that I take it. I inhaled a puff. I’m not really sure what a person would do had they already taken a full dosage or they were only using in case of an emergency. I wouldn’t thing it very wise to ask people to randomly take their medicine on command.

We boarded our plane, and were told not long afterwards that the flight was delayed for an hour, because of extra air traffic. Don’t they schedule flights? Or do they just do whatever comes up? I don’t know if this happens on every flight but it happened on both of our domestic flights, so I’ll assume it’s fairly common: Not long after you sit down, they bring you a drink. Then not much longer they serve you dinner. So you are actually sitting on the runway, eating. We were offered pork or fish, and which do you think I chose? It was pretty good. Little cubes of some fish in a sauce and steamed white rice. That was the main dish. Then we had some cherry tomatoes in a sealed cup and raisins. I had Coke for my drink. You know, I have had more regular pop on this trip than I have in my entire life. It’s too much man, too much. The flight had a fair amount of turbulence, and Sarah and I weren’t keen about that, especially since we weren’t familiar with the airline’s safety record. Maybe it was better we didn’t know.

We arrived in Shanghai after about two hours. We collected our bags and looked for a few taxis. The ride in the cab was pretty harrowing. They don’t seem to have any rules of the road that I can gather. They start moving over into the next lane, waiting to see if anyone will honk. Honking is ever present here. Also the cars get so close to each other that if you put your fingers out of the window, you would probably lose them. At one point, the car next to ours was maybe two or three inches away. They are crazy fucking drivers in Shanghai. They drive the way they walk around. Very pushy. And very impatient. Pedestrians here, too, have some kind of death wish or they don’t fear death at all. They walk between the cars, in front of the cars, etc.  Ah-Yen said it’s because the driver is at fault if he or she hits the pedestrian. Yeah, well that person is still dead or mangled.

Our hotel – the Shanghai Classical – was in the old part of Shanghai. I can’t describe it, so you’ll just have to look at the photos. It’s a very traditional architecture with narrow streets. Gorgeous is all I can say. The lobby was on the fifth floor, and I rooms were on the fourth. The hallways were very dark and creepy. It reminded me a bit of a miniature version of The Overlook Hotel in the Shining. I joked that we would see some 14^th century ghost showing up tonight. No one thought that was funny. It was even creepier when, at night, my bag just fell over and I heard tapping on the closet door. As is always the case, once we get into town, we go get a bite to eat. For some reason we ended up at a dumpling place, and I don’t think anyone wanted dumplings. In fact, one of the girls who will remain nameless pitched an absolute fit over it. Several of them wanted to go to KFC, which was right across the way. But nevermind. Now began the daunting task of ordering. I got vegetable dumplings. I wanted fried ones, but got steamed, which meant I had about five or six dumplings for dinner. It looked like an appetizer. The people who got fried ones had about 10 on their plates. The dumplings looked pretty greasy, though. After that lovely meal, we walked around a bit through the inner sanctum of the town, which is called Yu Gardens. Breathtakingly beautiful. As we walked a bit into the shopping area, we were surprised to find that a small boy had his pants down and was urinating into the street (where everyone was walking.) In fact, Ah-Yen nearly walked into it. He was being pretty creative too. Robin said he was waving it around and creating designs.

We went off the beaten path a bit to a not so touristy street. There we saw the “locals” shopping. (Some were out strolling in their pajamas!) The only annoying thing I can say about Shanghai is that there are a TON of street peddlers. And you can’t even really tell who is a peddler and who isn’t until they come up to you, say “lady, lady … watchbag. Wanna buy a watchbag?” And then thrust this folded up page of items into your face. We have been having a fun old time with that “watchbag” business. Is it one word? And what is a watch bag? After you hear it enough times, you ignore them, say no, or wave them away. One guy changed his pitch, asking me “Louis Vuitton?” Yeah, I’m sure if you go down the alley with them for your knock off designer shit, you won’t get bounced. Back to the shopping, I found a few shops that sold unusual gifts. One was a place where you could find all sorts of Tibetan stuff. The owner was kind of a douche, though, so I passed on his stuff. (The second day I was in there, I didn’t have enough money to buy what I wanted, so I left his shop, explaining that I had to leave. He followed me and the “girls” down two streets! Sarah didn’t appreciate the fact that he grabbed her arm.) The other shop that I found interesting was a small village guy who had relocated to the city with his wife and baby. He was selling new and antique pieces from his village. You could buy everything from a baby carrier to a shawl. I had my eyes on some table cloths, but they were pretty expensive and I didn’t want to insult him by negotiating too low of a price. Before I left his shop the first time, he showed up photos of his mother, father, wife, and niece all in traditional dress. His apartment in Shanghai looked incredibly small and confining.

It was getting late and everything was shutting down, so before retiring we went to the Haagen Daaz store. They asked us if we wanted to take it away or eat in. We responded the latter. This is where the pomp began. The young ladies were already fancied out in uniforms. They sat us down at a table and handed us our menu. We ordered a scoop of ice cream each, and it arrived in a cocktail glass with a flag planted in the center. We also got water with lemon slices. Very fancy. In fact, most fast food joints in the States have become a culinary experience in China.

Meredith, Ryan, Natalie and Robin wanted to go to an “authentic” market, so Peter took us to one. I had heard that we might find snakes there, but I wasn’t bothered. I guess everyone was looking for an antique opium pipe and you can find them pretty cheap. I just went along for the photos. Initially, there were just bags and bags of mushrooms, beetles, seahorses, fungus, weeds … all sorts of dried shit. A few places had dried lizards on a stick, just like you see in “Spirited Away.” At one place, I saw small animal legs – skinned – with the hoof at the bottom. One movie that I saw last year, and subsequently bought, was about the Tibetans who formed a volunteer police force to prevent the mass slaughter and poaching of their sacred deer. I wondered if these weren’t those deer. The further into the market you go, the weirder it became. Finally, we found ourselves in the live animals section. Kittens, puppies, chicks, turtles, fish, etc. are all on display. I found myself drawn to this one cage – open at the top – of two Golden retriever puppies and a black lab. They were panting, because, it was hotter than fuck, and they hadn’t a water bowl. In fact, as I looked around NONE of the animals had water. Apparently in China, puppies can sit outside all day in 88 degree weather, with 88 percent humidity, and never need a drink. I was getting increasingly upset. I told Peter to tell this asshole to give them water. When he didn’t, I took out my bandage container and poured some Evian into it. One of the puppies drank it up. The lab drank some but wanted to chew it instead. Robin picked up the lab and held him. He had such a sweet face and big paws. He was just adorable. The other girls picked up the retrievers. I haven’t seen many big dogs around here. People are poor, and taking care of dogs isn’t cheap. I envisioned the worst fate for these guys.

Robin asked Peter about the possibility of buying the dog, and taking him home. I told her I would pay for the dog if she did that. We asked the guy the price and all he said was “Two.” He ignored us, and acted sort of pissed that we were there. It was time to move on, and I started feeling sick to my stomach. Ahead of me were rows and rows of puppies. One cage had what looked like Pomeranian pups in it – no water – all had red bows in their hair. I’ve actually seen quite a few people with Poms over here, so they were probably destined for a home. The lab and retrievers might have been going to Korea where they would become someone’s dinner. I wish I hadn’t taken a photo of that dog, because just thinking about him makes me want to bawl. I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone was all enthusiastic about buying some shitty trinkets, oblivious to what was going on around them. Barking puppies, probably fucking thirsty and wanting to cool off. It makes me sick. Day two of more shit in Guangzhou. I headed back to the hotel. If someone gave me 1 million dollars and a free house, car and travel for a year, I still wouldn’t come back here.

For lunch, we went to a very noisy restaurant for hot pot. The way it works is they take away the spinning glass circle in the middle of your table and uncover the hole that’s there. There’s a switch in the table, too, that allows you to turn on the burning element. A huge pot is brought to the table that’s filled with, I’m sure, beef broth and green onions. You must have to order the rest of the items. Ah-Yen got us tofu, carrots cut into squares, lettuce, beef balls, pork balls and beef strips. My food went in first, trying to keep it as vegetarian as possible, I’m assuming. Next in went all of the flesh. At first, I don’t think I was particularly keen on going to that restaurant, but it ended up being OK, especially since they ordered a small bowl of steamed rice for whoever wanted it. That made up some calories you don’t get from boiled lettuce and tofu.

The afternoon was supposed to be fairly open.  I had heard about the Six Banyan Temple from a friend, so I asked Ah-Yen about it. She said it wasn’t far from our hotel. Natalie and Ryan had chops to pick up in the art gallery area, and since this was on the way to the temple, about six of us went along in two taxis. The temple consists of several buildings and a giant pagoda. We saw a few monks dressed in grey. One of the monks performed some kind of ceremony – it might have been a blessing – on three young women in the main temple, where you see three gigantic Buddhas. The first was Siddhartha, Buddha of the past and of compassion; the second was the present Buddha, Amida; and the last one was Maitreya, Buddha of the future.  I got some good photos, and we probably would have enjoyed the stay longer, except we got caught up in a serious thunderstorm. It absolutely chucked it down. In most places, a rainstorm will cool the city down. Not in Guangzhou. It just makes it more horrible.

On the original agenda, we had planned on seeing the Chen Clan Temple, which is now a folk museum. Maybe because it was close, the plans were once again on. It’s really a beautiful building that is under maintenance. It’s being restored, which means the top of the structure is being repainted. The areas that are already done are pretty amazing. Inside of the temple are samples of unbelievable embroidery – they look like paintings – as well as some ivory pieces. Some of the things are for sale. I took tons of pictures. While walking back through a small park-like area, I saw a black Fergus-like dog being encouraged by his owner to do some kind of business. That’s fairly typical here. I see a lot of dog urinating or excrementing encouragement. The dog was gorgeous. Makes me miss my hairies. We got home via a few taxis, I think around 5:45 p.m. The idea was to go out again at 6ish for a night cruise on the Pearl River. I was so hot and sticky from the day, and I needed some “me” time, so I bowed out of the cruise. (It would have been too dark to take any photos anyhow.) Since we had an Ethernet cable in our rooms, I connected to the Internet. I just happened to get Smith on Skype, and we talked for about three hours. While talking to him, I saw half of a documentary about this former millionairess from Shanghai who had given up her fortune to care for sick, abandoned, and disabled dogs. For a brief time, it restored my faith in the Chinese’s ability to improve on its treatment of dogs.

Since I’m tagging along with a social work class – this out of country experience fulfills credits for Race Relations in East-West Perspective – we via chartered van to Humen, the site of the Opium War. The background on it is that the British wanted objects from China, such as silks, and the Chinese didn’t want anything from the British. I think in the beginning, they traded silver, and when that was no longer needed/wanted, the British, which were in India, started trading opium. The Chinese eventually had had enough, and they dumped the supply in the ocean. (Sound familiar?) A war of sorts broke out. Where we went in Guangzhou was a museum chronicling the events. The first room had a row of displays but everything was in Chinese – no English – so Robin, Sarah and I went wandering to see if anything was in English. The rest of the museum was bilingual; however, the translations were often very odd with a lot of grammatical and spelling errors, which is understandable. My only gripe is when I see a bunch of errors like these, I focus more on those than the meaning of what I’m reading. The language, too, I mean the WAY the explanations were worded, also reminded me that we were no longer in Hong Kong. The British were always talked about as they imperialistic opportunists, which they were, that fought the brave and noble Chinese. I believe words like “bourgeoisie” were used. I wasn’t all that interested in museum and neither were my companions, so we ventured outside to look at the grounds. Nothing much to note.

We sat on the stairs to the museum, waiting for the others, and it was apparent that we were some kind of “freaks.” EVERYONE stared at us, said “hello” (a word that’s beginning to grate on my nerves) and laugh. It’s odd being the outsider/minority. Our van arrived and took us back to Guangzhou. We were pretty hungry so we went to an American-style restaurant called “Lucy’s.” On the walls are many, many photos of celebrities from Europe and the U.S. A veritable who’s who, if you will. Morgan Freeman, James Dean, Marilyn Monroe, Brando, Jude Law, Monica Belluci, Charlie Chaplin, Deniro, and more. There also were a few American license plates – one was from Alaska – on the wall. The menu ranged from Asian noodles to burgers. I ordered salmon with fries and veggies, and a huge iced tea to drink. For some reason my meal came last, and the salmon had melted cheese on top. You couldn’t even scrape it off, so that was a shame. I munched on my fries, and a few pieces of fried fish (sole) that Claudette had. She ordered fish and chips, which I contemplated getting. I should have gone with my instincts. The tea which was in a jam jar-sized glass was positively wick with lemon slices. It tasted a bit odd, but I was thirsty, so down it went. Other people had a club sandwich, fish and chips, beef noodles, a bowl of fresh fruit and onion rings, etc.

None of us had PRC money, so next stop was the bank to exchange HK dollars and U.S. bucks. This was an experience, let me tell you. Robin got to the window first and I bet it took her 30 minutes. They count the money, count it again, stamp the form, stamp it again … I was really losing patience. Then the security guard gives you a slip of paper with a number on it. Mine was 1023, but they don’t call the numbers in order. Someone with 1063 went before I did even though I was next in line. Money in hand, we wandered the streets, looking for souvenirs. The first place we went to was an art gallery. The guy was really, really good and I almost bought a painting, but had no idea how I would get it home. (Robin solved that problem later on. She asked them to take it off the canvas and roll it up.) We kept going. Shops sold all sorts of things, from Mao t-shirts, playing cards, dolls, silk style shirts and dresses, fans, chops (stamps with your name on them), maps, you name it. I’ve been pretty frugal with my money. I might find something to be aesthetically interesting, but I don’t need a bunch of knick-knacky shit to come home with me. I guess the fact that I have nearly a week in Japan, and the fear that I have to drag heavy bags around by myself, has saved me a lot of cash.

I think the next thing we did was take taxis to the art seller part of Guangzhou. Once we arrived, I knew this wasn’t for tourists. Not like where we were staying. This was gritty and dirty with no Westerners to be seen. As you go through the buildings, it is shop after shop of art work: paintings, porcelain, and scrolls. Robin immediately fell in love with these paintings – sort of contemporary – that had big gold circles in the middle. Others wanted more stark, Zen-style ink on white paper type things. My eyes were drawn immediately to the scrolls that featured vibrant flowers and goldfish. One shop, in particular, caught my eye. I liked the line work and colors. I wasn’t keen on paying a lot, so I would look, walk away, come back, look again … with Robin’s help, we finagled a decent price (he wasn’t much into bargaining) and I came away with four scrolls. Two of the same size, and two bigger ones but of slightly different widths. (The one only just fits into my luggage diagonally.) I had put my passport in Robin and Sarah’s room safe, and somehow two of my hundred bills remained inside of it. After all that negotiating, I didn’t have enough money. Sarah, being the wonderful person that she is, loaned me enough money to cover the cost.

We eventually ended up on the main drag in Guangzhou. This was the first time that we experienced the annoying street peddlers. The rule seems to be – if you see a group of whities walking together with cameras (they always look at my camera before accosting me) then you are fair game. Ryan had a guy come up to him and try to sell him a Toshiba laptap out of one of those seal bags. Since the computer didn’t come with any software OR power cables, I figured the guy had lifted it off of someone. He got the guy down to about $150 U.S. or something ridiculous, but if it’s illegal and you could get in trouble for buying it, I always say to pass on it. Even if it’s $1.

The final destination for the night was this spa that was supposed to be grand. Because of this and that, we were going at 8 p.m. While waiting for that time to come, we ventured over to the McDonald’s to get a drink. I had about 8 yuan with me (this is about $1 U.S.), and I got an ice cream cone and a small Coke. I was so thirsty that it was gone in no time. The cone was so small that you could have downed it in a bite. The menu in the restaurant was about the same as in the States. There seemed to be a few long sandwiches that don’t appear on the U.S. menu. (They looked like the chicken sandwiches from Burger King). And they had fried chicken. The sauces, too, looked a bit different. While I was talking to Sarah, a woman appeared behind me and, very calmly, swiped something off of the wall. Sarah told me it was a cockroach. (Not the first, we would see.)

Back on the street, we waited underneath a giant billboard advertising Adidas – Jet Li seems to be their spokesperson -and not far from a restaurant called Kung Fu. Advertising for them is Bruce Lee, dressed in his yellow tracksuit from “Game of Death.” I’m pretty sure this is not a licensed image. We hailed two taxis and headed for the spa. The way this works is there is a basic price of 360 yuan that gets you a massage, the buffet (I didn’t see ANYTHING on it worth eating), snacks, and the ability to watch TV programs that are in Chinese. Add-ons range from a milk and salt mixture poured over your body to a soak in a cedar tub. Not that we really knew that going in. We didn’t really KNOW what was going to happen, and since no one spoke English, guess what? A con worthy of “Ocean’s 11″ was a foot. Ah-yen went with us, but didn’t stick with us. We were therefore ushered to the lockers, where we disrobed completely. Then it was into the showers, where we were told to wash. In our towels, we went into a hot sauna and were given cold wash cloths for our faces. We were broken into three groups of two people. Robin and I got to endure the rest together. After the sauna, it was into a room with two tables. The women took loofas and sanded down our bodies (I insisted on keeping my front part covered, but this was like a Nazi regime, so that didn’t last long.) After the sanding was over, it was a series of make a choice and sign on this line type thing.  At some point we chose treatment for weight loss, and at another treatment for wrinkles. We were immediately ushered into another hot sauna, where we were given a Styrofoam cup filled with a clear substance. Rub it into our faces, we were told (by sign language, of course). The only Chinese customer in the place told us it was egg. By the time we were put into scalding hot cedar tubs, Robin and I were really starting to panic. (I more than she.) If we had come for a massage, why were we going from one hot thing to another? What were we signing? Was this part of our package? Where was Ah-yen? In the tub, I was really, really getting too hot. I saw a shower thingy like I have at home, unhooked it and blasted myself with ice cold water. It didn’t even feel that cold. I heard what I thought was Ah-Yen’s voice, and I started calling for her. I think it was Meredith and Sarah that we saw next. I asked them what was going on, and they didn’t seem to know either. We kept telling the women “massage, massage.” We were led back into the showers and then were given these hideous outfits to wear (we had “underwear” but they were made of thin paper.) Finally, we were moved into a room for our massage. I will admit that these were very, very relaxing. The diminutive girls worked our arms, head, back, neck, legs, hands … I kept getting punched into my hands and feet. I didn’t care, because after carrying all of my bags all day, I needed whatever punishment could come my way. Funny enough, the women talked to each other the whole time. Mine was the most talkative. She seemed fascinated by my two-toned hair and my one earring. If only I could understand Mandarin/Cantonese!

When the massage was over – I think it was about 90 minutes long – I felt like a nap. I was so drowsy. But no resting was allowed. We were led downstairs, into the coed dining area. (This place was like a rabbit’s warren.) We found Peter, Ah-Yen, Ryan, Sarah and Meredith and the story began to come out. Ah-yen had told them before we even went into the showers that we wanted a massage only. Nothing else. When she left, they went into hyper mode, getting us to do as much as possible. She said that she even came back upstairs, saw that we were in rooms that weren’t massage rooms, and told them to stop what they were doing, and give us massages. She argued with the manager for about 20 minutes, telling him that they knowingly took advantage of us – that it was like a dog talking to a chicken – making us sign all kinds of things. She also said that because of this, we weren’t going to pay for they had done. He wasn’t happy about this. I think Robin and my bills were in the 500s, so they had tacked on nearly 200 yuan more in services. If you think about it objectively, for what we got, it was about $70 U.S., which is a bargain. We were there for about three hours. But the fact that they did it without our permission really pissed me off. We went upstairs, got our clothes out of the lockers (by the way, we couldn’t have even walked out if we wanted to. The lockers could only be opened with our wrist band key AND one of the attendant’s keys.) and walked down the stairs to the front lobby. Here’s where it all got very interesting.

Ah-yen told them again that they had used deceptive practices and we weren’t paying for the extras they tacked on. The manager was pissed about this, and kept telling us that we signed the forms. Then another person came down, and Ah-yen argued with them. Then another person. Then the women who had worked on us. Peter was getting increasingly irritated. He collected the money from us for the massages – remember, I didn’t have enough money so I was going to charge mine. Not wanting to let them anywhere near my credit card, I borrowed money from Robin to pay – and proceeded to give them the money. They kept arguing. Eventually, Peter said that we just walking out. We paid what we legitimately owed, and were walking. Now the security guards were at the ready. The workers came walking over to us, and called out to the guards to prevent us from leaving. More arguing ensued. I was about to punch someone, I was so pissed. We got outside, despite their protests otherwise, and Ah-yen hailed two cabs. The attendants told the taxi drivers not to go anywhere. Now Sarah started to cry and panic. She was convinced that we were all going to be beat up or put in jail. We had been suggesting that Peter contact the U.S . Embassy and report the incident. At the very least contact the police. Of course in by the book China, if you sign something, I guess even if you were coerced to sign, you are still fucked. For a minute, I began thinking about the “dissidents” who, based on coerced confessions, were rotting in jail.  Somehow, Peter convinced them to let the “students” get into taxis and go back. He was stay behind and work things out. Into a taxi we went, not knowing if we would ever see him again.

Once we were at the hotel, we decided to stay in the lobby until he showed up. I was too pissed off to sleep anyhow. Welcome to Guangzhou, indeed. Probably 25 minutes passed, and he did show up. He told us that everything was “OK.” He had talked the manager down on the “owed” price, so he ended up paying like 2/3rds less than they were charging. It’s all about getting what you want, I guess. Not losing face? This place is amazing in how much people will haggle. It’s become almost like some kind of game. Very annoying in many respects. We went back to our rooms, and I didn’t get to sleep until about 3 a.m.  I think all of us who were swindled were mad at ourselves for signing the forms and being deceived. Early in the evening, I even decided I wasn’t going to go. (We didn’t get back to the hotel until midnight). Again, I should have gone with my instincts. Of course, then I wouldn’t have such a horrible/great story to convey. How many people can say they got shafted in a Guangzhou spa? I mean really.