Lost in Beijing

I got a call from Laura on the night of the 23rd, saying the bad news was that she couldn't get me a train ticket to Xi'an; there just isn't anything available. With the Chinese new year, everyone is busy travelling back to their home town and the trains are really busy. The good news was that she'd booked me on a plane instead. I nervously said OK, what are the details, knowing that the train cost RMB279 when her friend bought one recently and Paul's ticket to Yunan cost RMB2500 (although that may have been return). Anyway, Laura cheerily announced that it was discounted by 80% so cost me only RMB260! There are about 4 or 5 RMB (or Yuan, also colloquially known as Kwai) to the NZ dollar at the moment, so the ticket worked out at about $55 or 60. It was delivered to my door yesterday morning. I don't get how this sort of thing works but apparently picking up such heavily discounted tickets is not at all uncommon. Anyway, it means I'm flying to Xi'an at the very civilized hour of 2.40pm (so it's not even some sort of 'red eye special') but not until the 29th. That means I've got a few extra days in Beijing, which is fine because it's not like there's nothing to do here.

Paul left for his trip to Yunan yesterday morning so I'm home alone, sort of. Not really home but definitely alone in this city of 15 million, or however many it is. He doesn't get back until after I've gone, so I'm on my own until I see Laura's smiling face at Xi'an airport in about five days time.

I decided to dig out a couple more of Paul's 'Beijing by Foot' cards and do another walk. I know, my leg will never really recover if I'm walking on it for six or seven hours every day, but I'm really enjoying walking around the city and it is a bit better each day. I jumped on the subway and got off at the Lama Temple stop, which unsurprisingly, is located at the site of a Lama temple. That was to be the starting point for a walk around a different part of the city to what I've visited before, and which would connect, more or less, with the second card's walk, past the Ming Dynasty Drum and Bell Towers, but it turns out that that will be for another day, today probably.

I don't think I've raved about the subway yet. Basically, Paul's apartment, where I'm staying, is about a two minute walk from a subway station on the Number Two route. The Number Two is a ring route that runs under the number two ring road - the one that necessitated the dismantling of the city wall - so it forms a tight loop around the inner city and half the stations bear the names of the old city gates that once stood there. The Number Two route intersects with every other subway line in the city, so you just jump on and off at transfer stations to get to any part of the network, without paying any extra. You scan in your card as you enter the station and you transfer as often as you need to without ever needing to exit the system, then scan out again at the end of your journey. All for the princely sum of 2 Yuan, or about NZ50c. You could stay on it all day for that price although you wouldn't see much so that might be taking things a bit too far . . .

OK, so I'm not the sharpest knife in the drawer. I took ages figuring out which way I was supposed to be facing before heading off, but I have finally figured out why I have been going wrong. The sun might still rise in the east in China but it doesn't sure track across the northern sky does it . . . I'm in a different hemisphere so the sun's in the south. Duh! Never fear, I managed to get tripped up by that little piece of information again later in the day. Fool me once, call me unaware, fool me twice, call me - well, let's not go there!

Ah, so there's the Lama Temple: that huge thing towering over me looking for all the world like a Ming Palace, which it would, since that's how it started out. In my defence, it was obscured by a flyover when I first got out of the subway. The place was built by an Emperor-to-be and his son gave it to the Buddhists as a Lamasery, a word I didn't know existed but that's why it gets called the Lama Temple. It's still a functioning temple complete with Lamas in saffron robes and those huge mohawk-shaped hats. I didn't take photos of any of them in their hats; I thought it might be a bit disrespectful, like I thought they looked funny or something. Actually . . .

Everywhere you looked there were people burning incense and praying to the Buddha, including the highest proportion of Western people I've seen in China yet. The Chines looked completely normal but most of the Westerners looked like hippies. The place is beautiful, as you would expect it to be, but seeing these places does reveal how inherently conservative the Ming were in their decorative art. The buildings do reveal experimentation with different shapes and to some extent styles, as the various pavilions in the park where the Heaven Temple is demonstrates. But they're all decorated the same way. The walls are all the same red, the decorations are all painted in the same colours and all feature the same motifs. I thought the Confucian and Buddhist temples might have significant differences, but to my untrained eye, they don't. One of the differences that does exist is the colour of the roofing tiles. The Lama Temple has gold roof tiles because it was originally a prince's palace and, by imperial decree, only Imperial palaces were allowed gold roof tiles. Other buildings tend to have glazed green or plain grey tiles.

Just across the road is the Confucian Temple and adjoining examination centre, where would be bureaucrats took their exams to become part of the imperial administration. Inside, there's an interesting and revealing exhibit about Confucius, who lived during the poetically named 'Spring and Autumn' period, about 2500 years ago. While the name 'Spring and Autumn' might conjure up idylic images of peace and harmony, it was actually a period of great turmoil and incessant war in China, named after the 'Spring and Autumn Annals of the Kingdom of Lu', and which led into the more prosaically named 'Warring States' period that ended with the Qin Emperor (of Terracotta army fame) defeating his rivals and uniting the country. Confucius was born into an aristocratic family but his father died when he was three and they fell on hard times. He worked as a labourer but educated himself and started the first private school in China, breaking the state monopoly on education and accepting students of non-aristocratic origins, also an inovation. He developed a theory of 'virtuous government' and 'fillial duty', which he tried to convince the various warlords to adopt, without success.

Interestingly, the Chinese Government has embarked on a programme of setting up Confucius Centres around the world. The map on the wall showed one in Auckland. Their objective is to introduce the great and wonderful ideas of Big C to the world and encourage people, and therefore governments, to adopt Confucian principles of virtuous government, thus bringing about a more peaceful and harmonious world. But wait a minute! I thought the Chinese Government was communist. I thought these guys were Marxists. It seems gone are the days of believing that capitalism was a class divided society and that the solution was to overthrow capitalism, end inequality, and build a world based on production for social need rather than profit. All we need is 'virtuous government' and the ideas of some reactionary feudal monarchist from two and a half millenia ago. I bet Chinese (and all other) women can't wait for his ideas to be promulgated and adopted around the world. Excuse me while I dash to the bathroom.

So that's enough spiritual enlightenment for one day. Onward and along a few Hutongs and I get to the end of walk No. 1. By this time, partly due to starting late - I had to wait for the guy to deliver my plane ticket before I could leave, and partly because I spent a long time wandering around the two temples and reading the displays about Confucius, I realised there was no point trying to do the second walk; I'd be better off going home and doing some photo sorting and writing up the day's activity. I came out onto the second ring road, and being adventurous (that should teach me), I decided that rather than go back to the original subway station, I'd go the other way and cut in towards the centre of town before linking up with the subway again. It shouldn't be too hard eh? I know where the sun is, it's in the north west, right . . .

My little detour finds me at the third ring road. Hmmm, I've been heading out of town. Oh well, that's OK,, I'm in no hurry, I can keep walking with the setting sun behind me, that's unambiguously in the west, and eventually I'll get to a subway line. Furthermore, if I veer ever to the right, I'll be heading north east towards the city centre. So why have I just arrived at the fourth ring road? Ah, because when I stuffed things up right at the start it meant that when I thought I was heading in on the Southern side of the city, I was, in reality already drifting across into the northern suburbs. It's getting pretty dark by now, but surprisingly, quite a bit warmer than earlier in the day, but I decide it's about time to ask for some directions. The first person I ask directs me to continue up the road I'm already on, turn left at the overbridge, and carry on up that road. I'm about ten minutes from the subway. Gratefully, I zoom on, well not exactly zoom, but there is a bit of a spring in my step, on one side at least. I've been vindicated a wee bit in that my theory of heading east and meeting the subway has proved correct. That's as long as he didn't think I was looking for a fast food outlet. I'm briefly overcome with doubt. Surely if someone in a city with a subway asks where the subway is, they mean the underground, not the fast food chain of the same name? Luckily, he did (or there was a subway shop there too.) Either way, I'm home and hosed, more or less. I go up to the food court across the road where Paul and I ate the night before. I'd noticed that at the place where we ate, the names are written in Korean as well as Chinese. Yay, it was worth my while learning how to read Korean. A quick (actually slightly laboured) perusal of the menu board and I recognise something I know, having eaten it before in Christchurch. I go up to the woman and ask for it by its Korean name, as it is written on the board. I'm greeted by a blank stare. Damn! Well at least I know what I'm getting. Various arm waving and pointing gestures follow and I've placed my order. I can't believe that a place selling Korean food, with Korean themed posters, a Korean flag (South Korean of course!), and the menu written in Korean, is staffed by a woman who doesn't even know what the food is called in Korean! Oh well, at least I have a good meal and can come home satisfied with another sucessful day, even if I had an unscheduled extra two hours of walking through an unfamiliar part of town. And I still managed to get some work done on my photos, although I didn't get this written because the internet was down.

Next time maybe I should take a map . . . Nah, it wouldn't be half as much fun!