My first glimpse of Beijing was at night from my plane. I saw an impressively organized quadrant of lights and a city that beckons. Upon landing, my Chinese seatmate pointed out two big, glowing, red Chinese characters that read, Beijing. He willingly wrote the Chinese characters on my journal and thanked me in what few English he knew for lending him my pen. I held my breath upon entering this new world that has centuries-old history and influence. I was hooked except that I didn’t know it yet.
This whole trip came unexpectedly and was almost not meant to be. The day before I left, I had to rush to a job interview, pray that my coughing would abate, and wondered why my left ankle suddenly swelled that I walked with a limp. Were I more superstitious than usual, I would have cancelled the trip and believed in the signs. But my stubborn gene won over my cautious one and so there I was, entering the Middle Kingdom and liking what I saw.
Happily ensconced in an old black Mercedes Benz with a driver whose English extended only to, “Sorry, no English,” I contemplated about my first day’s lack of an itinerary. I arrived in my first abode – the Far East Youth International Hostel – and met my first new friends, my assigned roommates. Two Spanish girls from Barcelona who adopted me the next day and brought me along their trip to the Lama Temple (Yong He Gong Palace) via an invigorating morning walk and an interesting ride in the Metro. Palerma and I were quite the spectator as Ellisanda practiced on her Mandarin with the locals and promptly pointed out a famous Peking Duck restaurant and a hotel that shows Beijing opera – both near our hostel.
Guided by an audio tour guide that allowed me to hit pause when I wanted to look at an Empress’ intricate embroidery or wonder at the giant Buddha gift for a visiting Lama, the Lama Temple is a good introduction to Lamaism or the yellow religion. I was particularly enamored by the intricate mandala sand painting as well as the old bronze bell and huge stone tablets that had sacred scriptures inscribed on them. A tablet calling for peace and unity written in four languages (Manchu, Chinese, Tibetan and Mongolian) was prominently displayed upon entering the main archway. Throughout my whole walk, I saw and was surrounded by a piety of incense and bows – that act of bending over in respect to a Buddha’s image or even to the other statues that were in the different halls.
With this first temple impression, I went back to the hostel to meet with my College friend and sponsor for this trip, Veronica. When we met for dinner a few weeks ago, she mentioned about being invited to this trip by a bank for an Issuers and Investors Conference. She was allowed to bring a guest and the bank would take care of all land arrangements (tours, meals and hotels) except for the airfare. I had free miles to spare and was in need of a break or simply something new. Hence, this unplanned and unexpected trip as any adventure is usually defined by. Since my free miles had to follow a different schedule (and a long stopover in Narita!), my flights in and out of Beijing fell on different dates. I was on backpacker mode for the first and last nights, and on junket mode in between. What a trip!
From my morning jaunt with Spanish friends to the Lamasery of Harmony and Peace, Veronica and I spent the afternoon walking around the Temple of Heaven. As the name implies, it was grander, and quite an architectural wonder. It was a temple sitting on top of an elevated fortress surrounded by a landscape of beautiful cypress and juniper trees. I especially enjoyed our short walk through their Long Corridor. It was a local scene of old Chinese folks singing heartily in choir groups, with some women crocheting as the men played chess.
Our first official day concluded with 2.5 hours of winding through Beijing traffic as we tried to catch the cocktails in the hotel just off the Badaling section of the Great Wall. The Peking Duck and hoisin sauce concoction we were served was a great reliever of traffic blues. The hotel’s name (and my second abode) – Commune by the Great Wall – is quite literally a location description. It’s ran by the Kempinski chain of hotels and opened just this September. Surrounded by designer luxury villas with its own path to the Great Wall, nothing could rival its natural scenery. Our house was all glass and full of open spaces just waiting for parties to unravel. That night was my first real taste of winter as we were shuttled via an open air vehicle. Our first morning walk to the main building found us laughing about the huff of fog coming out of our mouths. It was crisp, it was cool, and it was something new.
Veronica went off to her conference while I was shuttled with other guests to our first tour – the Ming Tombs. It was one of those few times when I liked the journey better than the destination. On the way, I saw persimmon trees and apple orchards, a big brown hairy camel and beautiful black-headed birds, glimpses of the Great Wall and my favorite of all, mystical-looking mountains with cream-colored smooth stone outcrops, almost reminiscent of El Nido’s limestone mountains. At the time, I wished I was a geologist and that I knew what geological implications the mountains would reveal. I thought of how hard it must have been for indentured laborers to build 5,000 kilometers of the Great Wall in harsh weather and on unyielding stone. That afternoon, Veronica and other conference participants joined us in our second tour, a.k.a. the main highlight – climbing the Great Wall itself.
Warned about the cold weather and strong wind in the Great Wall, I changed coats and brought the red heavy-duty winter coat complete with faux fur. I was like an Eskimo in Sumo wrestler padding transported to the Great Wall! But what a wall! Said to be visible from space, it is a palpable testament to a people’s heroism and genius. Our guide said that to climb the Great Wall is to be a hero according to local beliefs. On a more solemn note, he also said that with its construction imposed on farmers and peasants, the Great Wall is also sometimes called the longest cemetery as they died in the thousands while building it.
I climbed to a spot that was a bit higher than where my group was and just took in the scenery and the serenity. We chose the less traveled section of the Badaling Great Wall so I had that pilgrim feeling akin to my temple climb in Angkor Wat. A pilgrim’s way is the silent way. One travels and climbs towards certain heights and solitude becomes a willing companion. As I sat there taking it all in, I let nothing in my mind wander. I have always chosen natural beauty over the concrete jungle but being on top of the Great Wall was a different kind of tangible high.
Nothing could top that afternoon although a 14-course dinner where Shaolin monks performed during intermission numbers certainly joined the list of my Beijing memories. I also found Mr. Wei Ben Hua’s speech that night interesting. He was the Conference Keynote Speaker and China’s Deputy Administrator to the State Administration of Foreign Exchange – a post supposedly equivalent to our Central Bank Governor.
The next day saw us traversing the same highway back to the city where we passed ongoing construction of the stadium where the 2008 Olympics will be held. A sunset walk through Tiananmen (Gate of Heavenly Peace) Square – the world’s largest square said to fit one million people – was a vista to savor with the National Museum of China to the west and the Great Hall of the People (National People’s Congress) to the east. Mao’s mausoleum lies behind the Heroes’ Monument in the center while his larger-than-life portrait watches over us from the northern gate of the square. The regal Qianmen – a 15th century gate that is a compass point in Beijing – once divided the ancient Inner City and the outer suburban zone. It is now made up of two separate structures (the Zhengyang and the Arrow Tower) and lies beyond the mausoleum.
From this walk, we proceeded to our city residence (and my third abode) at the Grand Hyatt Beijing. We quickly checked in and promptly went to the Oriental Plaza mall attached to the hotel to do a bit of shopping where we discovered the pastilles of wild jujube. Dinner was formal at the exclusive China Club. We skipped out though after the fifth course and decided to shop at Wangfujing’s night market instead. Shall we call this my capitalist consumerism mode in Communist China?
The next day was an early morning walk to where the bell tolls (Sunday mass, that is) – except that I could not find the bell attached to St. Joseph’s Church (a.k.a. the East Cathedral) that was supposedly on Wangfujing road. Yes, the same road where my consumerism had an almost-free rein the night before. I was about to give up and head back to the hotel when I saw the first possibly-English-speaking guy who I hoped was an adopted local and could point out the church to me. It turned out that he was as un-local as I was but was also looking for the same church. He was smarter though and got the hotel concierge to write the church’s name in Chinese. We found it after the stoplight at the end of the road where I decided to give up and head back. Apparently, my guardian angel was at work early that morning, and wanted me to hear mass albeit in Chinese.
Veronica left ahead and like my first day in Beijing, I had no plans and was just going to wing it. So I figured, enjoy my hotel buffet breakfast (a.k.a. fortify myself) and make a plan. Who do I bump into at the buffet table but my church buddy, Marcin! He was Polish-American, a World Youth Day veteran like myself (Rome 2000 and Toronto 2002), and was also still trying to plan the day. We decided to go to the Forbidden City together after breakfast. Hey, he had the thick China Lonely Planet while I only had a city map!
Marcin and I must have walked close to four hours from the hotel to Tiananmen Square, through the gates that led to the Forbidden City until the other end that brought us to the Imperial Garden and out into a bridge above the City’s surrounding moat. The City was huge and by the nth hall, Marcin and I already memorized the beginning sentence to each description. We took sitting breaks at strategically placed benches where one could just chill and think, “I am inside a city that forbade entry to the general population for 500 years! A city that had 9,999.5 rooms, where an emperor once had 3,000 concubines, and whose living quarters was called the Palace of Heavenly Purity!” Elaborate, amazing, just grand!
From the Forbidden City (and a quick bargaining stop at the Lama Temple), I sped away for a final glimpse at real hutongs (alleyways) in Liulichang Cultural Street. What a find! Cobbled streets and motorized rickshaws maneuvering through crowded alleyways, beautiful antiques and calligraphy enticingly displayed on shop windows, local shops selling everything from wooden puppets to colorful local food while giving tourists a taste of their various tea collection. With Chinese children playing Chinese garter outside their homes, I was transported back to memories of childhood games and my dependable Chinese shoes. I was smiling the whole time I was walking through the friendly labyrinth of Liulichang street. My cultural experience was capped by a fabulous show of Chinese acrobatics – body contortions that made my jaw drop; scenes that almost waxed sentimental as couples and groups held by a single rope literally glided around the stage accompanied by music that makes one’s imagination fly.
That last night brought me back to my first and final abode – the Far East Hostel where I bumped into my first roommates off to their Tibetan journey. My new roommates were Spanish again, but boys this time. It was a surprise but hey, something new. My roommates were out when I returned from the show but I made new friends in the nearby room. Three Australian girls (two were twins) and two guys – an Irish and a Canadian. We swapped stories complete with favorite temples and memorable cultural idiosyncracies that our travels exposed us to. It was an interesting experience of cultural exchange. All lazy to go out, we decided to hold a mini-party at the kitchenette/ laundry area in our basement. It was a hot tea-hot choco-and-coffee party complete with local biscuits and chocolate cookies. All I can really say is, “What a Beijing despedida!”
I arrived in the Philippines on a Monday night. I looked out from my plane and saw Manila all lit up. As the saying goes, there is no place like home but Beijing, my Beijing, did come close.
Beijing, China
08-13 November 2006
