Bemusement in Beijing

        Imagine my disappointment as our adventure through Beijing unfolded. Our pent up excitement and anticipation built up to an obscene level, plummeting as the days passed. But it’s all an experience, and this was quite the story.
As we stepped off the airplane, we couldn’t wait to see what Beijing had in store for us. Struggling with our slightly too heavy, slightly too large backpacks, we set off to find a hostel. Walking outside the airport, we stopped at a little stand to ask which bus would take us to Tianamen Square. Here, we had our first experience with English-Chinese translation. “Tianamen?” we asked tentatively. A confused look passed over the bus ticker’s face as he loudly responded with “Tiameeeehhhhhhhh!?!” Sure. We bought tickets and stood in the line by bus three, our connection to the city. Hopping on the bus, we peered out the window in eager anticipation. Contemplating what stop to get off at, we saw a sign for Tianamen Square- 3km. Sighing in relief that we in fact were on the right bus, we got off at the end of the line and continued on foot in the same direction, a few blocks over. The brighter lights of the city and large, business buildings slowly faded into the distance as we walked. Without a map or good sense of direction, we were lost. Stepping into the street, we stopped at a cab that had just let someone out. He shook his head at us and drove off, the first of many times we were refused service by Beijing cab drivers. Sighing, we crossed the street, avoiding the bikes and pull carts and walked in front of a hotel. Not exactly what we were looking for, but we entered anyway. Between the giggles of the young front desk receptionist and the gaggle of Chinese workers that surrounded us, they were not able to guide us to the area we wanted, saying instead “close to Tiananmen, it’s closed now.” We thanked them and walked outside and continued down the street. Walking up to the next hotel, we decided that we were tired and just wanted to sleep and not carry the heavy backpacks we were sporting. The next hotel consisted of bright cartoons and lots of children. Giving Becca a look, we turned away and went back to our first hotel. Slightly confused, the hotel staff helped us get a room. Getting to our room, we curiously perused the amenities, including a Hello Kitty bathmat, toothbrushes and mini toothpaste and an odd nightstand with a lot of switches. Going to sleep almost immediately, we fell asleep to the sounds of a small Chinese suburb- a mother yelling at her children, carts being pushed down the street and the light pinging of a bicycle bell.

View from our hotel

We woke up early the next morning without a real plan, but knowing we needed to find internet and/or someone that spoke any English. Walking down the street, we peered into small stores and little restaurants. Small children curiously watched us as we wandered down the streets, without any apparent destination. Approaching a large street, we attempted to walk across it, but were quickly pushed back and motioned to continue on the same side of the road. Slightly confused, we did. A few blocks up, there was a stairway down that led under the street to the other side. Crossing the street is rarely done above ground, probably because of the millions of people that live there. Continuing on, we saw a Starbucks and thought we resolved all of our problems, coffee for Becca and internet to find out where we were and where we should go. Except it was closed. So we continued on, eventually walking into a hotel and asking if they knew where we could find internet. They smiled uncomfortably and looked back at their computers. Sighing, we walked out and continued onto another street. Walking into a restaurant, we hopefully looked at our wi-fi indicators. Nothing. We continued on, stopping at another hotel. More giggles and uncomfortable glances around. Apparently this wasn’t working. Walking out, we stopped at a ledge on the sidewalk, setting down our bags and signing in defeat. We texted our friends and parents, asking for the address of a hostel. Receiving a few, we flagged down a taxi and gave him the name and address of a hostel. He didn’t understand. We showed him another one. No response. We translated it to Chinese. No idea. Finally we resorted to the place where we thought we could find a hostel, Tianamen. “Tiameeehhhhhh?” Yes.
Dropping us off by the gates of the Forbidden City, we walked down the street, spotting a McDonalds. Finally, we could use wi-fi and find a place to stay. Walking into McDonalds, we happily connected to the internet. Until we realized that we had to sign up with a Chinese mobile number. The workers did not understand what we were asking for, and Becca finally asked a patron for her number so we could use it. Except them you had to confirm the number. Frustrated, we drank our orange juice and coffee, irritated because this was supposed to be our “easy” country to get around. Approaching two young foreign guys, we asked them if they knew where any of our hostels were. They didn’t, but offered to direct us to their hostel. They ended up walking us to the hostel, and we found out that they were from Israel. They dropped us off at our hostel, and cheerily asked us to meet later. Relieved that we made it somewhere, we were immediately disappointed to find out that it was full. We walked down the street to another, Leo Hostel, and agreed to stay there. Dropping off our bags in our eight person room, we headed out for the day. Wandering around Tianamen Square, we decided to head to the Temple of Heaven. Acquiring a map, I directed us down Qianmen Street. Wanting to cross the street, we had to cross above the highway on a bridge with science symbols on it. Passing numerous beauty supply stores, we ducked in to see how Rebecca would look with dark hair. She’s still contemplating. Reaching a dead end, we turned and kept walking. And came upon another dead end. Heading back in the same direction, we ended up walking down a large street, passing some of Beijing’s low-income housing. Asking a younger guy if we were heading in the right direction, he smiled sheepishly as our respective languages evaded each other again. Smiling and walking away, an older man biking by and seeing this interaction stopped and said “do you speak English?” We almost hugged him. We were going in the correct direction and reached the Temple about forty minutes later. Wandering through, we appreciated the architecture and natural beauty of this area.

Temple of Heave

      
      Leaving the Temple of Heaven from the opposite end, we were approached by men biking with little seats behind them. They ‘re everywhere and they all want to take you around instead of the taxi. Our next location, the Summer Palace, was much farther away than this Temple had been. One of the drivers insisted that he would take us there for three, which we said thirty? And he nodded. Confirming it was indeed the Summer Palace that he was taking us to, we hopped in and enjoyed the ride. “Around, we must go around,” he said gesturing with one hand. We smiled but wondered why we had to go around, maybe the streets were less busy? We quickly realized why when he dropped us off by Tianamen Square. “No, Summer Palace, here.” We pointed at our map again. He said “yes, here, around the corner.” Except it wasn’t. We knew it was much farther. We pointed again and he said too far and made a motion like he was flying a plane. Definitely not that far. Already annoyed with this little man, he then handed us a little card that basically said we had to pay him 300 yuan or he would go to the police because it’s a crime. We argued with him and then decided to just leave. Dropping a twenty on the seat, we quickly walked away.
Back at Tianamen Square, we headed to the subway. Walking through security, we bought a two yuan ticket and headed down the stairs. Trying to figure out the map, we eventually picked the direction that we thought we wanted to head in. Unfortunately, we didn’t pay attention to the name of the stop we started on, which would cause problems for us later. We transferred to another train, and ended at the stop closest to the Summer Palace. Walking up the subway stairs, we debated getting lunch now or later. Deciding on lunch later, but a snack now, we stopped at a small stand and asked for one of what the woman was making. She laughed and gestured to the rolled bread. “Yes….” After our first bite, we realized why she reacted in such a strange manner, it was just a pita/tortilla like bread pressed together. Apparently we were supposed to eat it with something else.

Summer Palace

Walking into the Summer Palace, we passed all the group tours with their waving flags and matching t-shirts. By passed, I mean squeezed, pushed and wiggled to get some distance between us. We climbed up the steps to an overview of the palace grounds and lake. The ancient architecture and hazy lake view created a truly picturesque view. Snapping photos the whole way down, we quickly came upon groups of Chinese families. All of which wanted to take photos with Becca. It became so repetitive that she finally proclaimed “I’m a person, not a thing!” She started speaking in Farsi when asked about pictures, but people just thought she was speaking English to them because they didn’t know either language. She started shaking her head and we walked away, because it became so excessive.

Summer Palace

We walked by the lake, the floating plants and the paddle boats. Walking along the lake, we felt a sprinkle. Great. Less than five minutes later, it began to downpour. And we were nowhere near cover. The umbrellas that everyone held to shield them from the sun no longer seemed so outrageous. We scrambled to get under some trees and then a little overhang. As everyone else streamed by us into the rain to awaiting cars or buses, we patiently waited out the heaviest part. Walking out into the rain, we mapped ourselves back to the subway. Hopping on, we headed toward the Olympic fields.

Olympic Stadium

Walking out of the subway, we were immediately greeted with large sculptural art pieces. And with the eerie feeling of desertion. The escalators were shut off and the wide aisles looked ridiculous compared to the tiny amount of people there. We walked toward the Bird’s Nest and the actual grounds. Walking through security, we stepped into a scene of time past. Children were running around with cotton candy and lighted toys, parents were taking pictures of their children with Minnie Mouse and photographers were insistent upon taking pictures in front of the nest stadium. The fuzzy haze encircling the scene added to the feeling that we were watching a scene from years ago. The grounds that once vibrated with throngs of people now hummed with the forced effort of vendors trying to keep the excitement alive. After snapping a few pictures, we headed out to the surrounding city to find some dinner. As we walked down the street, we passed a strange building divided into sections. Each section either had a door or barred windows, and were selling items in  bulk. We saw lots of items being sold to men on bicycles with carts, such as dolls, lotions, and the ceramic pots that we saw everyone drinking from. Apparently they don’t need to be refrigerated. Deciding there weren’t any restaurants in this direction, we headed back to the subway. And then our adventure began.
Taking the subway to a stop near Tianamen Square, we got off at a stop that we thought could possibly be near our hostel. We had an entire district that our hostel could be in. We decided on a stop, and then decided to switch trains and get off at a few stops over. Walking out, we bought water and looked around for a familiar landmark. There had to be at least one. Except there wasn’t. The large business buildings did not look familiar at all. And then we realized that we had taken the subway in the wrong direction. Exhausted and cranky, we decided to hail a cab. This took longer than expected, but we finally collapsed onto the covered seats. Asking for Qianmen Street, we were quickly given a harsh “NO.” Uhh. We took out our map and pointed-”NO.” All right then. We sighed and said Tianamen. “Tiahmeeehhhhh?” Yes. He dropped us off at the entrance to the Forbidden City and sped off. By now, it was dark and we just wanted to get dinner and go to sleep. Disagreeing on what direction to go in, we headed across the street to decide. As we went to walk down the stairs, we were stopped by a fashionably dressed mid-twenties girl. She told us Tianamen Square was closed and asked where we were from. And then her enthusiastic friend joined her and asked us to meet them at a bar for a drink. Before we left the States, a friend who lived in China told us about a scam some Chinese would do, where they invite you to a coffee shop asking to practice their English. Then, you’re presented with an exorbitant check and told that they’ll call the police if you don’t pay. Tired, irritable, and unwilling to deal with another scam, we ignored their perky inquiries and walked away. Walking in the direction I chose, we eventually came upon the subway station that we had gotten on earlier. The annoying thing was that to get there, we had to go up and down three under-the-street pathways. Finally in familiar territory, we headed to Qianmen Street.
Starving after only eating carbohydrates all day, we stopped at a restaurant to order some dinner. After perusing such items as “palace kisses the sky” and “mushroom rape” we decided on soy fried rice. After being served a bucket of it, we attempted to eat our rice with our chopsticks. After Becca made a huge mess, the waitress took pity on us and dropped off spoons. Too tired to even finish our rice bucket, we headed back to our hostel and climbed into the bunk beds.