Aug 15, 2008
Here's a follow-up to yesterday's report on a recently-concluded visit to Canada's Pacific Coast city of Vancouver
There are people who claim that the years ahead will be the Century of Asia. They say that the apparent success and the obvious impact of the Beijing Olympics are a strong first step towards that condition.
Another Olympics, to take place less than two years from now, may serve to underscore that title, "the Century of Asia". Because the Canadian city of Vancouver is not only strongly Asian in its outlook, but actually has a population that is one-quarter Asian.
It is also a highly impressive city, surely among the most modern in appearance of any Canadian or U.S. city, lined throughout with luxurious, new, skyscraper condominiums -- more, it seemed to me, than in Miami or Miami Beach -- that overlook the waters of the Burrard Inlet leading to the Pacific Ocean.
At its "Canada Place" convention center topped with canvas-like sails like those of the Sydney Opera House in Australia, as many as five giant cruise ships tie up at a time to receive and discharge passengers wanting to sail the waters of Alaska. Elsewhere in a giant harbor are freighters unloading or taking on products for Asia, which is a day closer (in shipping terms) to Vancouver than any other port in North America, an enormous advantage that has brought considerable business and commerce to it.
And yet despite all the commercial activity, the city is primarily a place for outdoor sportsmen. It is flanked not only by water on several sides (with countless marinas stuffed with private boats) but by mountains appealing to hikers, bikers, and campers. Its weather is so moderate (much like Seattle or San Francisco) that people engage in outdoor activities throughout the year. Several large recreation areas -- especially the gigantic Stanley Park (with its important aquarium) -- are heavily used. And on the waterways flanked by the soaring condominiums, "float planes" -- private aircraft equipped with pontoons for landing and taking off from the water -- are constantly in motion, taking both sportsmen and tourists to nearby resorts and playgrounds.
The modernity of Vancouver -- its almost futuristic appearance -- results from the fact that it was created as late as 1888, when representatives of the Canadian Pacific Railway simply chose the spot as the terminus of its trans-Canada railroad then being completed. Nothing here is older than 1888, and most of the city was built in recent times.
But the key feature of Vancouver, to which I must return, is its multi-ethnic character, which I find exciting. At the risk of repetition, half of its population grew up speaking a language other than English, and nearly a quarter of its population is of Chinese descent. It exploded in size when China took over Hong Kong from Britain, and tens of thousands of prosperous Hong Kongers fled to Vancouver from what they regarded as danger.
Vancouver is one of Canada's major centers for immigration. It benefits from the unabashed cordiality that official Canadian policy shows towards immigration.
This is the city that will be hosting the Winter Olympics less than two years from now (February 2010), and this is the place where Roberta and I have just spent four days (on one of which, we took a ferry round-trip to the older and more traditional, British-oriented city of Victoria just three and a half hours away). We did not get to the much closer, ski-resort city of Whistler, where most of the outdoor events of the Winter Olympics of 2010 will take place (indoor competitions, like ice skating, will be in Vancouver).
In Vancouver, we went one morning to the spectacular food market on Granville Island, reached by a tiny "acqua boat" from a waterside dock. We walked the breathtaking Sea Wall along one large stretch of the Vancouver Harbor leading to Stanley Park, and then spent the remainder of the day in that gigantic park, also visiting the acquarium there. We ate in several extremely sophisticated restaurants (in a city much acclaimed by foodies), had coffee in a Starbucks which is right across the street from a second Starbucks (surely a record even for that ubiquitous chain), went to an evening concert, visited the Vancouver Art Gallery, did a lot of shopping, and were generally impressed by a city that is growing by leaps and bounds. Its prosperity is amazing.
Will the 21st century be the Century of Asia? Surely, Vancouver believes that, and its gaze is towards the Pacific Ocean and especially in the direction of China. You couldn't choose a more interesting place for your next vacation in North America.
Write and read comments about this post.
Another Olympics, to take place less than two years from now, may serve to underscore that title, "the Century of Asia". Because the Canadian city of Vancouver is not only strongly Asian in its outlook, but actually has a population that is one-quarter Asian.
It is also a highly impressive city, surely among the most modern in appearance of any Canadian or U.S. city, lined throughout with luxurious, new, skyscraper condominiums -- more, it seemed to me, than in Miami or Miami Beach -- that overlook the waters of the Burrard Inlet leading to the Pacific Ocean.
At its "Canada Place" convention center topped with canvas-like sails like those of the Sydney Opera House in Australia, as many as five giant cruise ships tie up at a time to receive and discharge passengers wanting to sail the waters of Alaska. Elsewhere in a giant harbor are freighters unloading or taking on products for Asia, which is a day closer (in shipping terms) to Vancouver than any other port in North America, an enormous advantage that has brought considerable business and commerce to it.
And yet despite all the commercial activity, the city is primarily a place for outdoor sportsmen. It is flanked not only by water on several sides (with countless marinas stuffed with private boats) but by mountains appealing to hikers, bikers, and campers. Its weather is so moderate (much like Seattle or San Francisco) that people engage in outdoor activities throughout the year. Several large recreation areas -- especially the gigantic Stanley Park (with its important aquarium) -- are heavily used. And on the waterways flanked by the soaring condominiums, "float planes" -- private aircraft equipped with pontoons for landing and taking off from the water -- are constantly in motion, taking both sportsmen and tourists to nearby resorts and playgrounds.
The modernity of Vancouver -- its almost futuristic appearance -- results from the fact that it was created as late as 1888, when representatives of the Canadian Pacific Railway simply chose the spot as the terminus of its trans-Canada railroad then being completed. Nothing here is older than 1888, and most of the city was built in recent times.
But the key feature of Vancouver, to which I must return, is its multi-ethnic character, which I find exciting. At the risk of repetition, half of its population grew up speaking a language other than English, and nearly a quarter of its population is of Chinese descent. It exploded in size when China took over Hong Kong from Britain, and tens of thousands of prosperous Hong Kongers fled to Vancouver from what they regarded as danger.
Vancouver is one of Canada's major centers for immigration. It benefits from the unabashed cordiality that official Canadian policy shows towards immigration.
This is the city that will be hosting the Winter Olympics less than two years from now (February 2010), and this is the place where Roberta and I have just spent four days (on one of which, we took a ferry round-trip to the older and more traditional, British-oriented city of Victoria just three and a half hours away). We did not get to the much closer, ski-resort city of Whistler, where most of the outdoor events of the Winter Olympics of 2010 will take place (indoor competitions, like ice skating, will be in Vancouver).
In Vancouver, we went one morning to the spectacular food market on Granville Island, reached by a tiny "acqua boat" from a waterside dock. We walked the breathtaking Sea Wall along one large stretch of the Vancouver Harbor leading to Stanley Park, and then spent the remainder of the day in that gigantic park, also visiting the acquarium there. We ate in several extremely sophisticated restaurants (in a city much acclaimed by foodies), had coffee in a Starbucks which is right across the street from a second Starbucks (surely a record even for that ubiquitous chain), went to an evening concert, visited the Vancouver Art Gallery, did a lot of shopping, and were generally impressed by a city that is growing by leaps and bounds. Its prosperity is amazing.
Will the 21st century be the Century of Asia? Surely, Vancouver believes that, and its gaze is towards the Pacific Ocean and especially in the direction of China. You couldn't choose a more interesting place for your next vacation in North America.
Write and read comments about this post.
Aug 14, 2008
Let me pass on a few reactions to a city we'll all be watching soon: the gleaming, modern, seaside Vancouver in British Columbia, Canada
In February of 2010 -- and that's just 17 months from now -- the world will be watching the Winter Olympics in Vancouver, Canada, and marveling at the emergence of a metropolis that, in some respects, is comparable to Beijing in its modernity -- and ethnic make-up. As amazing as it may seem, it is probable that a new census will show nearly 23% of the city's population to be of Chinese origin.
I arrived in Vancouver over a week ago and was immediately impressed by the city's Asian aspect. At the airport, bi-lingual signs are in English and Chinese. As you stroll the streets, you are not only struck by how young the population is, but by the diverse nature of its origins. I mentioned the 23% figure that largely came about by the arrival in the 1980s of tens of thousands of residents of Hong Kong leaving that city in anticipation of the British handover to China that later took place in 1997. These, in the main, were prosperous, talented business people, who immediately established a center for Chinese culture in the Vancouver suburb of Richmond, and then spread to all parts of the city. It is largely their children -- well-dressed, cosmopolitan, optimistic and lively -- who now flock the streets of downtown Vancouver.
On Robson Street, in the center of downtown, one of the largest Chinese restaurants I have ever seen (Hon's Wun-Tun House) is patronized by hundreds of Chinese Canadians (and savvy tourists) who watch a regiment of Chinese chefs working at breakneck pace from a giant elevated kitchen at one side of the room, split into meat-preparing and vegetarian-preparing sections. The fact that Won's has been compelled to prepare vegetarian meals for half their guests is a tip-off to the attitudes of Vancouver's youthful population.
But Vancouver isn't solely Chinese; a full 50% of the population spoke a language other than English as their childhood tongue. There's a huge Punjabi population (Anglo-Indian) that supports an immense section of Indian commerce, a large number of Somali's from Africa, a large number of Iraqis granted asylum here, a heavy contingent of other persons of Muslim descent whose women stroll the streets in trendy, attractive, light-silk head scarves. Vancouver is the way it is because Canada welcomes the arrival of immigrants moving here because of political reasons.
This morning, in the Globe and Mail slipped under the door of our hotel room in Banff (we traveled from Vancouver and Kanloops in British Columbia to Calgary and Banff in Alberta, and are heading this afternoon to Lake Louise), that major newspaper carried a front-page announcement by the Premier of Canada that the government will ease and encourage -- get that, "ease and encourage" -- the granting of permanent residency visas to immigrants who have come here on temporary work permits and have proved their worth to the state. Take that, Lou Dobbs! Canada is encouraging immigration as a means for adding vibrancy to its society, and is preparing a path to citizenship for all the Indian, Chinese, Somali, Iraqi, and other immigrants in its midst.
And from all appearances, that diverse population has brought immense prosperity to a city with low unemployment, astonishing construction activity, new convention centers, new parks, new skyscrapers rising up everywhere, vibrant retail activity. Vancouver, I was told, is the fastest-growing city in Canada, developing at greater pace than even the cities of adjoining Alberta (Calgary and Edmonton) that are benefiting so much from the extraction of oil from tar sands in the area north of Fort McHenry.
Immigration. It was refreshing to hear the subject discussed intelligently and without ugly prejudice. And it was delightful to spend the day in Vancouver's giant Stanley Park, watching Chinese and English and Indian families all enjoying the sun and the picnics and mingling together without tension.
We'll all be watching scenes from Vancouver in February of 2010. More about Vancouver tomorrow, and then more about Banff and Lake Louise.
Write and read comments about this post.
I arrived in Vancouver over a week ago and was immediately impressed by the city's Asian aspect. At the airport, bi-lingual signs are in English and Chinese. As you stroll the streets, you are not only struck by how young the population is, but by the diverse nature of its origins. I mentioned the 23% figure that largely came about by the arrival in the 1980s of tens of thousands of residents of Hong Kong leaving that city in anticipation of the British handover to China that later took place in 1997. These, in the main, were prosperous, talented business people, who immediately established a center for Chinese culture in the Vancouver suburb of Richmond, and then spread to all parts of the city. It is largely their children -- well-dressed, cosmopolitan, optimistic and lively -- who now flock the streets of downtown Vancouver.
On Robson Street, in the center of downtown, one of the largest Chinese restaurants I have ever seen (Hon's Wun-Tun House) is patronized by hundreds of Chinese Canadians (and savvy tourists) who watch a regiment of Chinese chefs working at breakneck pace from a giant elevated kitchen at one side of the room, split into meat-preparing and vegetarian-preparing sections. The fact that Won's has been compelled to prepare vegetarian meals for half their guests is a tip-off to the attitudes of Vancouver's youthful population.
But Vancouver isn't solely Chinese; a full 50% of the population spoke a language other than English as their childhood tongue. There's a huge Punjabi population (Anglo-Indian) that supports an immense section of Indian commerce, a large number of Somali's from Africa, a large number of Iraqis granted asylum here, a heavy contingent of other persons of Muslim descent whose women stroll the streets in trendy, attractive, light-silk head scarves. Vancouver is the way it is because Canada welcomes the arrival of immigrants moving here because of political reasons.
This morning, in the Globe and Mail slipped under the door of our hotel room in Banff (we traveled from Vancouver and Kanloops in British Columbia to Calgary and Banff in Alberta, and are heading this afternoon to Lake Louise), that major newspaper carried a front-page announcement by the Premier of Canada that the government will ease and encourage -- get that, "ease and encourage" -- the granting of permanent residency visas to immigrants who have come here on temporary work permits and have proved their worth to the state. Take that, Lou Dobbs! Canada is encouraging immigration as a means for adding vibrancy to its society, and is preparing a path to citizenship for all the Indian, Chinese, Somali, Iraqi, and other immigrants in its midst.
And from all appearances, that diverse population has brought immense prosperity to a city with low unemployment, astonishing construction activity, new convention centers, new parks, new skyscrapers rising up everywhere, vibrant retail activity. Vancouver, I was told, is the fastest-growing city in Canada, developing at greater pace than even the cities of adjoining Alberta (Calgary and Edmonton) that are benefiting so much from the extraction of oil from tar sands in the area north of Fort McHenry.
Immigration. It was refreshing to hear the subject discussed intelligently and without ugly prejudice. And it was delightful to spend the day in Vancouver's giant Stanley Park, watching Chinese and English and Indian families all enjoying the sun and the picnics and mingling together without tension.
We'll all be watching scenes from Vancouver in February of 2010. More about Vancouver tomorrow, and then more about Banff and Lake Louise.
Write and read comments about this post.
Aug 13, 2008
Pauline in Beijing: The Final Day
Well, here it is, my last China blog. I'm on the plane, considering trying the Bahamian burka blanket technique to stay warm, and looking back over my time in Beijing with some definite regrets. I think I could have made a braver effort to get tickets to the Games. Probably, had I stayed another day or two, I would have figured out how to get in. At the airport, I met two men who had simply shown up at venues and bought tickets, at face value, from people standing outside.
Even more galling, I had lunch with a college friend, Steve, before I got on the plane today (he had just returned to Beijing the night before), and in the lobby of the hotel, he managed to buy soccer tickets for later in the week as I stood there, admittedly green with envy. (He met a fellow who had accidentally bought tickets for two events that ran at the same time.) As a travel writer, dagnabit, I should have known: the key element is just to go, to put yourself in the right place. (To heck with connections and trolling the Internet!) Lesson learned for the 110th time.
I don't, however, regret coming to China at this time or the adventures I had not getting into the Games. Yesterday, as a farewell gesture, I returned to the Forbidden City, which I had visited last August on a group tour. The first visit had been a fractured experience, partially because we lost a member of our group (and had to waste time looking for her in the labyrinthine Palace); and partially because I was traveling with my eight-year-old daughter Veronica, who unwittingly became a tourist attraction in her own right. Blonde, wearing a cowboy hat and mirrored shades and absolutely adorable (and that last comment is, of course, totally objective), she was constantly being stopped by Chinese tourists who wanted to take a picture with her.
It was fascinating from a sociological standpoint, but I pretty much missed the palace. This time, with the help of Roger Moore (the plummy narrator on the audio guide), I was able to explore it at leisure, loitering in front of the concubine's jeweled flower sculptures, peering at the yellow silk thrones of the Emperor (different Emperors used different parts of the palace so there are multiple thrones), dawdling in front of the dioramas of official gatherings in the "City." I hope to come back sometime; even with two visits, I still have much left to see here.
And as some of you know, I appeared on the Today Show from Beijing as a spokesperson for Frommer's Day by Day guide, which (we're all proud to say) was the official guidebook of the 2008 Olympics. On the show, I talked about saving money on your Chinese vacation, which is kind of like shooting ducks in a barrel, thanks to the exchange rate. (You can see my full article on the topic here.) It's always exciting to be on the Today Show (this was my fourth appearance), but doing it in Beijing was... I hate to sound hyperbolic, but kind of mind-blowing.
Let me set the scene: I arrived at my official pick up spot (the lobby of the Grand Hyatt hotel), and rendezvoused with a "runner" for the show, who was carrying a Today Show sign. NBC has hired 20 such runners for the games. They all seem to be recent college grads; many are bunking together in a one-bathroom apartment, working 12-hour days and (from what I saw), loving every minute of it. We headed towards a van, which then zipped through the crowded Beijing highways in a special "Olympics Lane" (for press and athletes) as other traffic-bound motorists shot us evil glares.
At the gate to the Olympic green, my runner passed me off to another runner, who walked me to security where a third runner was waiting with a guest pass. She stayed on one side of the metal detector, but on the other side was a fourth runner, who passed me off to a fifth runner in a golf cart. After a short drive to the Today Show compound of trailers (catering, green room, bathroom, makeup and control room) my relay race was finished (phew!) and I had three hours to stroll around the Olympic green (where I saw the Birds Nest, WaterCube and wandering Olympic mascots up close), meet the winner of Nashville Star and the men's gymnastics team (pictured above) and get nervous for my appearance. As I said earlier, it was extremely exciting.
And with that, I'm turning this blog back over to my brilliant father, who has greater stamina than I (he's been blogging for over a year; I'm exhausted with doing it for just a week). Thanks for reading and Happy Trails to all.
Write and read comments about this post.
Even more galling, I had lunch with a college friend, Steve, before I got on the plane today (he had just returned to Beijing the night before), and in the lobby of the hotel, he managed to buy soccer tickets for later in the week as I stood there, admittedly green with envy. (He met a fellow who had accidentally bought tickets for two events that ran at the same time.) As a travel writer, dagnabit, I should have known: the key element is just to go, to put yourself in the right place. (To heck with connections and trolling the Internet!) Lesson learned for the 110th time.
I don't, however, regret coming to China at this time or the adventures I had not getting into the Games. Yesterday, as a farewell gesture, I returned to the Forbidden City, which I had visited last August on a group tour. The first visit had been a fractured experience, partially because we lost a member of our group (and had to waste time looking for her in the labyrinthine Palace); and partially because I was traveling with my eight-year-old daughter Veronica, who unwittingly became a tourist attraction in her own right. Blonde, wearing a cowboy hat and mirrored shades and absolutely adorable (and that last comment is, of course, totally objective), she was constantly being stopped by Chinese tourists who wanted to take a picture with her.
It was fascinating from a sociological standpoint, but I pretty much missed the palace. This time, with the help of Roger Moore (the plummy narrator on the audio guide), I was able to explore it at leisure, loitering in front of the concubine's jeweled flower sculptures, peering at the yellow silk thrones of the Emperor (different Emperors used different parts of the palace so there are multiple thrones), dawdling in front of the dioramas of official gatherings in the "City." I hope to come back sometime; even with two visits, I still have much left to see here.
And as some of you know, I appeared on the Today Show from Beijing as a spokesperson for Frommer's Day by Day guide, which (we're all proud to say) was the official guidebook of the 2008 Olympics. On the show, I talked about saving money on your Chinese vacation, which is kind of like shooting ducks in a barrel, thanks to the exchange rate. (You can see my full article on the topic here.) It's always exciting to be on the Today Show (this was my fourth appearance), but doing it in Beijing was... I hate to sound hyperbolic, but kind of mind-blowing.
Let me set the scene: I arrived at my official pick up spot (the lobby of the Grand Hyatt hotel), and rendezvoused with a "runner" for the show, who was carrying a Today Show sign. NBC has hired 20 such runners for the games. They all seem to be recent college grads; many are bunking together in a one-bathroom apartment, working 12-hour days and (from what I saw), loving every minute of it. We headed towards a van, which then zipped through the crowded Beijing highways in a special "Olympics Lane" (for press and athletes) as other traffic-bound motorists shot us evil glares. At the gate to the Olympic green, my runner passed me off to another runner, who walked me to security where a third runner was waiting with a guest pass. She stayed on one side of the metal detector, but on the other side was a fourth runner, who passed me off to a fifth runner in a golf cart. After a short drive to the Today Show compound of trailers (catering, green room, bathroom, makeup and control room) my relay race was finished (phew!) and I had three hours to stroll around the Olympic green (where I saw the Birds Nest, WaterCube and wandering Olympic mascots up close), meet the winner of Nashville Star and the men's gymnastics team (pictured above) and get nervous for my appearance. As I said earlier, it was extremely exciting.
And with that, I'm turning this blog back over to my brilliant father, who has greater stamina than I (he's been blogging for over a year; I'm exhausted with doing it for just a week). Thanks for reading and Happy Trails to all.
Write and read comments about this post.
Labels: beijing, pauline olympics
Aug 12, 2008
10 days in China from $999
I'll blog more tomorrow, but for those watching the Today Show, the two companies that are selling 10-day trips to China for $999 are China Focus (www.chinafocustravel.com) and China Spree (www.chinaspree.com). Those rates are for select dates in winter only & don't include fuel surcharge.
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Labels: china, deals, pauline olympics
Pauline in Beijing, Day 5: Blog Day 5: Still Trying for Tickets, Fun with Food and a Conversation with Author Jen Lin-Liu
Today was a more "free form" day, as I wasn't really able to base it around classic sightseeing. Instead, I ended up exploring the topic of Chinese foods; and trying my darndest to get tickets. I finally heard from my US Olympic Committee contact and no surprises there: She came up short. So I ended up at The Bookworm, a clubby bookstore and café for English speaking expats where I used their free WiFi (and advice) to troll Olympics-selling websites for about two hours. I sent text messages, e-mails, weighed prices ($770 for diving was way too rich for my blood, but $175 for Judo was a consideration) and then, after all this effort, never heard from anyone. I have a feeling all of those empty seats we're seeing on TV went to scalpers, and large Olympic delegations who simply didn't show up.
Since I leave at 4pm Wednesday, it's now clear that you won't be seeing my face in the stands. Ah well. But I will be getting onto the Olympic Green (more on that tomorrow), so I'll report on how that was. And I managed to spend a complete hour in a jam-packed Olympic merchandise shop, sifting through Olympic plates, dolls, t-shirts, pencil sharpeners, key chains, you name it, among a huge crush of people (the frantic buying reminded me of those news reports you see annually regarding Filene's Basement's bridal gown sales).
On the food side, I had a couple of adventures. I visited a local supermarket which was notable both for how similar it was to a US one, in the abundance of products on the shelves, and fresh produce in the stands; and how dissimilar, in how different some (but not all of the foods) were. I was in the fish and meats department, for example, and I looked down at one of those saran wrapped small trays only to see it was full of grubs. And they were still wriggling around. (It looked like something that might be featured in the dream scene of a horror film.) I later saw those same types of grubs skewered on shishkabob sticks in the night market, along with other foods that we usually put in aquariums or squish under our feet in the US: scorpions, sea horses, star fish and lizards.
For lunch, I met up with Jen Lin Liu, author of Frommer's Beijing; and a fascinating new food memoir, Serve the People: A Stirred Fried Journey Through China. She took me to her favorite new Peking Duck restaurant called "Duck de Chine" (a chi chi place), where a waiter comes over, stares intently at you and then rings a gong before a masked server starts carving up the duck. "Look how the duck moves as it's being cut," she remarked to me. "That shows it's moist and has sufficient meat." She went on to explain how air is pumped into the duck to give the skin its thick, crispy texture; and how new-style Peking duck restaurants, like this one, go one step beyond more traditional places, offering their guests special sauces to dip the duck pancakes, in addition to the traditional plum sauce (we were given a sesame sauce, a scrumptious peanut sauce and roasted garlic in addition to the usual accoutrements).
Here's a bit of our conversation over lunch, as close to verbatim as this slow writer could get it. If you want to see more of what Jen has written, see her recent op-ed piece she penned for the New York Times.
Pauline: I've noticed many, many changes in Beijing from my visit to Beijing a year ago.
Jen: A year ago? (Jen laughs) There have been huge changes in just the last month. The flowers you see everywhere? Those just went in. The touts were just moved out, there are no pirated DVD's on the streets, the cities been cleaned up considerably and it's raining a lot, which doesn't usually happen in August.
Pauline: Well, the government didn't have anything to do with the weather, of course.
Jen: Actually they do. They've been shooting up rockets to try and make it rain. It's well documented.
Pauline: I notice a lot of people around town with red arm bands, saying that they're "Volunteer Security." None of them seem to be doing much of anything. Some are very old, some were teenagers, who just seemed to be hanging out on the street corners together. What's that all about?
Jen: They're supposed to be watching for anything suspicious.
Pauline: And what do they do if they see something suspicious?
Jen: That's the mystery. No one seems to know. It's very Chinese.
Pauline: How has it been living in Beijing on the eve of the Olympics?
Jen: It's been disturbing. A lot of us feel it's become a police state once again (more like it was when I moved here eight years ago). Police have come knocking on our door to see who's living in our apartment and if they're all registered. And they've been cracking down on people who have "F Visas" [Pauline's note: basically a form of renewable visa for long-term residents], and forcing many people on these visas to leave the country. Since I'm a freelance journalist, I have one of those. My fiancée, who works for a media organization, has a more permanent visa. So I had to marry him to get a Chinese visa! (Jen laughs). We're planning a later wedding, but are legally married in China now.
All our mail is being opened up, now. This wasn't uncommon eight years ago, but recently... Not everyone does their jobs, but with the Olympics coming, everyone started doing their jobs again. So we've been having trouble with mail, they've sent some boxes of my memoirs back to the States as unapproved, and even opened up our wedding invitations. We know my fiancée's phone is being tapped. It all feels like a big step backwards.
Pauline: I've noticed that the traffic is much better.
Jen: Yes, they're enforcing regulations only allowing odd or even numbered cars on the roads every other day. But the truth is, if you're rich enough in Beijing to have a car, you probably have two, and you'd have made sure that you have one with even license plates and one with odd. But many more people are using the subways, which are now much more extensive, thanks to the Olympics. A problem with the road regulations is not as many trucks are being allowed into the city. So the prices for food has shot up, which many people are grumbling about.
Pauline: Tell me about your book, Serve the People.
Jen: Well, though it's about my time learning to cook in China, it's not so much about me as about the people I met along the way and about the ways China has changed. It's very much a guide to the culture, as I've been able to infiltrate the kitchens around China. I first lived here in 2000 when I had a Fullbright scholarship [Pauline's note: Jen has Chinese parents, but grew up in San Diego]. After working at Newsweek for a few years, I decided to choose food as a topic to study as it's accessible to me. So much of Chinese culture -- Peking Opera, Soap Operas -- really isn't for me. But food I could talk about with anyone, and it was a way for me to look at many aspects of the culture.
Pauline: Can you give me an example of what you mean by that?
Jen: Sure. After I graduated from cooking school, I had to take a National Cooking exam, which was half cooking and half writing. I was not nervous about the cooking, but though I speak Chinese, I hadn't yet mastered the writing [Pauline's note: Learning all of the Chinese characters that go into simply reading a newspaper can be a monumental task]. Basically, in a short period of time I had to learn how to read and write Mandarin in order to take the test.
I was working with a tutor every day, to prepare for the exam and one day, she simply said to me "Why don't you take the textbook into the exam with you. Nine out of ten of the proctors will allow you to cheat." I told her I wasn't comfortable with that and she thought for a moment and said "Okay, why don't you hire someone then to take it for you?" I ended up taking the exam without cheating, as I wanted to see if I could do it, but it opened my eyes.
Pauline: What did that experience show you?
Jen: That corruption is endemic here. It's expected. I don't think the Chinese are an immoral people, just amoral. Every day it's fascinating to live here, and see how the people here think.
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Since I leave at 4pm Wednesday, it's now clear that you won't be seeing my face in the stands. Ah well. But I will be getting onto the Olympic Green (more on that tomorrow), so I'll report on how that was. And I managed to spend a complete hour in a jam-packed Olympic merchandise shop, sifting through Olympic plates, dolls, t-shirts, pencil sharpeners, key chains, you name it, among a huge crush of people (the frantic buying reminded me of those news reports you see annually regarding Filene's Basement's bridal gown sales).
On the food side, I had a couple of adventures. I visited a local supermarket which was notable both for how similar it was to a US one, in the abundance of products on the shelves, and fresh produce in the stands; and how dissimilar, in how different some (but not all of the foods) were. I was in the fish and meats department, for example, and I looked down at one of those saran wrapped small trays only to see it was full of grubs. And they were still wriggling around. (It looked like something that might be featured in the dream scene of a horror film.) I later saw those same types of grubs skewered on shishkabob sticks in the night market, along with other foods that we usually put in aquariums or squish under our feet in the US: scorpions, sea horses, star fish and lizards.For lunch, I met up with Jen Lin Liu, author of Frommer's Beijing; and a fascinating new food memoir, Serve the People: A Stirred Fried Journey Through China. She took me to her favorite new Peking Duck restaurant called "Duck de Chine" (a chi chi place), where a waiter comes over, stares intently at you and then rings a gong before a masked server starts carving up the duck. "Look how the duck moves as it's being cut," she remarked to me. "That shows it's moist and has sufficient meat." She went on to explain how air is pumped into the duck to give the skin its thick, crispy texture; and how new-style Peking duck restaurants, like this one, go one step beyond more traditional places, offering their guests special sauces to dip the duck pancakes, in addition to the traditional plum sauce (we were given a sesame sauce, a scrumptious peanut sauce and roasted garlic in addition to the usual accoutrements).
Here's a bit of our conversation over lunch, as close to verbatim as this slow writer could get it. If you want to see more of what Jen has written, see her recent op-ed piece she penned for the New York Times.
Pauline: I've noticed many, many changes in Beijing from my visit to Beijing a year ago.
Jen: A year ago? (Jen laughs) There have been huge changes in just the last month. The flowers you see everywhere? Those just went in. The touts were just moved out, there are no pirated DVD's on the streets, the cities been cleaned up considerably and it's raining a lot, which doesn't usually happen in August.
Pauline: Well, the government didn't have anything to do with the weather, of course.
Jen: Actually they do. They've been shooting up rockets to try and make it rain. It's well documented.
Pauline: I notice a lot of people around town with red arm bands, saying that they're "Volunteer Security." None of them seem to be doing much of anything. Some are very old, some were teenagers, who just seemed to be hanging out on the street corners together. What's that all about?
Jen: They're supposed to be watching for anything suspicious.
Pauline: And what do they do if they see something suspicious?
Jen: That's the mystery. No one seems to know. It's very Chinese.
Pauline: How has it been living in Beijing on the eve of the Olympics?
Jen: It's been disturbing. A lot of us feel it's become a police state once again (more like it was when I moved here eight years ago). Police have come knocking on our door to see who's living in our apartment and if they're all registered. And they've been cracking down on people who have "F Visas" [Pauline's note: basically a form of renewable visa for long-term residents], and forcing many people on these visas to leave the country. Since I'm a freelance journalist, I have one of those. My fiancée, who works for a media organization, has a more permanent visa. So I had to marry him to get a Chinese visa! (Jen laughs). We're planning a later wedding, but are legally married in China now.
All our mail is being opened up, now. This wasn't uncommon eight years ago, but recently... Not everyone does their jobs, but with the Olympics coming, everyone started doing their jobs again. So we've been having trouble with mail, they've sent some boxes of my memoirs back to the States as unapproved, and even opened up our wedding invitations. We know my fiancée's phone is being tapped. It all feels like a big step backwards.
Pauline: I've noticed that the traffic is much better.
Jen: Yes, they're enforcing regulations only allowing odd or even numbered cars on the roads every other day. But the truth is, if you're rich enough in Beijing to have a car, you probably have two, and you'd have made sure that you have one with even license plates and one with odd. But many more people are using the subways, which are now much more extensive, thanks to the Olympics. A problem with the road regulations is not as many trucks are being allowed into the city. So the prices for food has shot up, which many people are grumbling about.
Pauline: Tell me about your book, Serve the People.
Jen: Well, though it's about my time learning to cook in China, it's not so much about me as about the people I met along the way and about the ways China has changed. It's very much a guide to the culture, as I've been able to infiltrate the kitchens around China. I first lived here in 2000 when I had a Fullbright scholarship [Pauline's note: Jen has Chinese parents, but grew up in San Diego]. After working at Newsweek for a few years, I decided to choose food as a topic to study as it's accessible to me. So much of Chinese culture -- Peking Opera, Soap Operas -- really isn't for me. But food I could talk about with anyone, and it was a way for me to look at many aspects of the culture.
Pauline: Can you give me an example of what you mean by that?
Jen: Sure. After I graduated from cooking school, I had to take a National Cooking exam, which was half cooking and half writing. I was not nervous about the cooking, but though I speak Chinese, I hadn't yet mastered the writing [Pauline's note: Learning all of the Chinese characters that go into simply reading a newspaper can be a monumental task]. Basically, in a short period of time I had to learn how to read and write Mandarin in order to take the test.
I was working with a tutor every day, to prepare for the exam and one day, she simply said to me "Why don't you take the textbook into the exam with you. Nine out of ten of the proctors will allow you to cheat." I told her I wasn't comfortable with that and she thought for a moment and said "Okay, why don't you hire someone then to take it for you?" I ended up taking the exam without cheating, as I wanted to see if I could do it, but it opened my eyes.
Pauline: What did that experience show you?
Jen: That corruption is endemic here. It's expected. I don't think the Chinese are an immoral people, just amoral. Every day it's fascinating to live here, and see how the people here think.
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Labels: beijing, culture, food, jen liu liu, olympics, pauline olympics
Aug 11, 2008
Arthur Frommer, here: While Pauline is in Beijing for Summer Olympics 2008, I'm in Vancouver, previewing Winter Olympics 2010
I have just completed a week in Canada's third largest city, a place that's in a state of shock over the brilliant quality of China's Opening Ceremonies. How can they possibly complete (in February, 2010, when the Winter Olympics take place in Vancouver and nearby Whistler)? Since Vancouver (and its surrounding province of British Columbia) haven't the faintest intention of spending $40 billion on improvements to the city's sports facilities, à' la Beijing, or on the opening ceremony for the games, how can they possibly present a spectacle that remotely compares? That's the question key columnists of the Vancouver Sun have asked in last Sunday morning's newspaper.
And they're not the only persons worried about following a tremendous act. How can I, blogging from Vancouver, grab attention in competition with my daughter's adventures in Beijing? And why should I even try? Because I'm now on my way by train to Jasper in the province of Alberta, and from there to Lake Louise and Banff, I'm going to delay my reappearance in this space until Wednesday, when I'll present some initial reactions to Vancouver and the Canadian Rockies. Until then, Pauline, take it away!
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And they're not the only persons worried about following a tremendous act. How can I, blogging from Vancouver, grab attention in competition with my daughter's adventures in Beijing? And why should I even try? Because I'm now on my way by train to Jasper in the province of Alberta, and from there to Lake Louise and Banff, I'm going to delay my reappearance in this space until Wednesday, when I'll present some initial reactions to Vancouver and the Canadian Rockies. Until then, Pauline, take it away!
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Pauline in Beijing, Day 4: Meeting Fellow Travelers, Haggling in the Markets, and Still No Tickets
No tickets yet. And Laura from the Olympics committee is no longer answering my e-mail (and I sent her just one yesterday at 4pm). Very frustrating. I ran into a group of people from New Balance, the sports gear company on the street, and they told me that at the two events they had attended that there had been dozens of empty seats. I'm considering trying to buy a scalped ticket (though I don't quite know how). If my next post is from a Chinese jail, you'll know why.
Despite my ticketless state, I've been seeing the Olympics everywhere. It plays on public buses (yes, I've now branched out to buses!), on some subway lines, in the lobby of my hotel on two separate screens and stations, on gigantic screens in public markets. The coverage here makes it look like the Games have been one unending victory sweep for the Chinese. I know the networks do the same in the U.S,. concentrating the footage on American athletes, but being on the outside here, seeing over and over the insistent parade of red leotards, swimsuits and track suits has been oddly unnerving. I never knew my patriotism (or is it tribal loyalties?) was so deeply rooted.
Onto the day's activities: Since I'd hit a bit of a wall with all the temples the day before, I decided to the head to Panjiayuan Jiuhuo Shichang, the outdoor weekend market, a mesmerizing sprawl of stuff. Here you'll find everything from a jade beads to ethnic clothing to teapots to Mao watches to furniture based on designs from the Ming and Qing eras and more. Some of the surprises: waterpipes meant for holding cigarettes. Painted re-creations of the art I had seen two days earlier at the galleries of Factory 798 (as I'm sure you've read, copyrights are not respected in China; it looks like as soon as one of the great artists comes up with something original, dozens of fakes start circulating at markets like these).
Elaborately embroidered ethnic (read: non-Han Chinese) clothing, sold by women wearing these garments, their hair piled in a large, dumpling-like bun on the top of their heads (a very different look than the modern one sported by most Beijingers). According to a brochure, that a fellow was giving out, asking us to give it to "our friends" (boy did he give it to the right person)the market has more than four thousand shop owners (not surprising, the stands are tiny and the place is huge), and 10,000 shop assistants, 60% of whom came from outside Beijing. Workers are from the Hui, Man, Dong, Uigur, Mongolian and other ethnic groups. So coming here, you truly do get a microcosm of the whole of China.
Of course, you can't just buy. Haggling is expected and if you're a Westerner, you know going in that the price you're first quoted will be a good 80 to 100 percent too high. So, you get an initial price from the vendor on a calculator (or as common, keyed onto a cellphone) and then you type in a lower number back. The seller, and often his nearby friends, then start gesturing like over-excited umpires: higher, higher, higher their hands urge. And you go back and forth until you arrive on a mutually agreeable price. (Though after one of these negotiations for two ancient-looking coins I wanted to give to my coin-collecting daughters, a bystander nearby broke into giggles when he caught a glimpse of the price I'd agreed to. I walked away on that negotiation, and got a better deal a couple of stalls down).
It was all great fun, and as I finished one negotiation I turned around to find a microphone pointed in my face. In a case of the snake swallowing its own tail, here was a reporter from the Associated Press, wanting to interview me about why I'd come to the market and what I thought of Beijing. Eventually, I fessed up that I was a writer, too, and off-mic we gushed to each other about what a great subject Beijing was. (And then, has become my nasty habit, I tried to hit him up for tickets. No go).
As I left the market, I happened upon two other women searching for the subway: Marcia Rauch an American who had just spent the previous two months teaching English in southern China; and Crystal Jing, a friend of one of her students and a freshman economics major at a university in Beijing.
We got to chatting, and decided to go out to dinner together, first touring a hip hutong (filled with boutiques selling t-shirts with wise-cracks in Chinese, cozy cafes and dozens of bars including one claiming to be the smallest in the city) that Crystal likes. It was fascinating to hear about Marcia's time in China. Along with teaching English, a fellow teacher (an engineer back in the US) ended up teaching his students some of the fundamental precepts of environmentalism, a concept that hadn't come up much in their small city, noted Marcia, who also noted that wherever you went there, the streets were festooned with trash. Beijing was somewhat that way the last time I visited, though its been spiffed up tremendously for the Olympics.
In Crystal, I found a kindred soul who longs to get out and see the world (her English is excellent) and though she's majoring in economics right now (though she's just a freshman she can't switch out of that major), she's hoping to get another degree in either media or languages so that she can have a springboard for her explorations. We spent a lovely evening together, getting drenched in the rains, and missing our stops both on the subways and buses (four times!) because we were talking so intently. A lovely evening (and a very nice change from dining alone).
I've included some quotes off the menu from dinner:
Despite my ticketless state, I've been seeing the Olympics everywhere. It plays on public buses (yes, I've now branched out to buses!), on some subway lines, in the lobby of my hotel on two separate screens and stations, on gigantic screens in public markets. The coverage here makes it look like the Games have been one unending victory sweep for the Chinese. I know the networks do the same in the U.S,. concentrating the footage on American athletes, but being on the outside here, seeing over and over the insistent parade of red leotards, swimsuits and track suits has been oddly unnerving. I never knew my patriotism (or is it tribal loyalties?) was so deeply rooted.
Onto the day's activities: Since I'd hit a bit of a wall with all the temples the day before, I decided to the head to Panjiayuan Jiuhuo Shichang, the outdoor weekend market, a mesmerizing sprawl of stuff. Here you'll find everything from a jade beads to ethnic clothing to teapots to Mao watches to furniture based on designs from the Ming and Qing eras and more. Some of the surprises: waterpipes meant for holding cigarettes. Painted re-creations of the art I had seen two days earlier at the galleries of Factory 798 (as I'm sure you've read, copyrights are not respected in China; it looks like as soon as one of the great artists comes up with something original, dozens of fakes start circulating at markets like these).
Elaborately embroidered ethnic (read: non-Han Chinese) clothing, sold by women wearing these garments, their hair piled in a large, dumpling-like bun on the top of their heads (a very different look than the modern one sported by most Beijingers). According to a brochure, that a fellow was giving out, asking us to give it to "our friends" (boy did he give it to the right person)the market has more than four thousand shop owners (not surprising, the stands are tiny and the place is huge), and 10,000 shop assistants, 60% of whom came from outside Beijing. Workers are from the Hui, Man, Dong, Uigur, Mongolian and other ethnic groups. So coming here, you truly do get a microcosm of the whole of China.
Of course, you can't just buy. Haggling is expected and if you're a Westerner, you know going in that the price you're first quoted will be a good 80 to 100 percent too high. So, you get an initial price from the vendor on a calculator (or as common, keyed onto a cellphone) and then you type in a lower number back. The seller, and often his nearby friends, then start gesturing like over-excited umpires: higher, higher, higher their hands urge. And you go back and forth until you arrive on a mutually agreeable price. (Though after one of these negotiations for two ancient-looking coins I wanted to give to my coin-collecting daughters, a bystander nearby broke into giggles when he caught a glimpse of the price I'd agreed to. I walked away on that negotiation, and got a better deal a couple of stalls down).
It was all great fun, and as I finished one negotiation I turned around to find a microphone pointed in my face. In a case of the snake swallowing its own tail, here was a reporter from the Associated Press, wanting to interview me about why I'd come to the market and what I thought of Beijing. Eventually, I fessed up that I was a writer, too, and off-mic we gushed to each other about what a great subject Beijing was. (And then, has become my nasty habit, I tried to hit him up for tickets. No go).
As I left the market, I happened upon two other women searching for the subway: Marcia Rauch an American who had just spent the previous two months teaching English in southern China; and Crystal Jing, a friend of one of her students and a freshman economics major at a university in Beijing.
We got to chatting, and decided to go out to dinner together, first touring a hip hutong (filled with boutiques selling t-shirts with wise-cracks in Chinese, cozy cafes and dozens of bars including one claiming to be the smallest in the city) that Crystal likes. It was fascinating to hear about Marcia's time in China. Along with teaching English, a fellow teacher (an engineer back in the US) ended up teaching his students some of the fundamental precepts of environmentalism, a concept that hadn't come up much in their small city, noted Marcia, who also noted that wherever you went there, the streets were festooned with trash. Beijing was somewhat that way the last time I visited, though its been spiffed up tremendously for the Olympics.
In Crystal, I found a kindred soul who longs to get out and see the world (her English is excellent) and though she's majoring in economics right now (though she's just a freshman she can't switch out of that major), she's hoping to get another degree in either media or languages so that she can have a springboard for her explorations. We spent a lovely evening together, getting drenched in the rains, and missing our stops both on the subways and buses (four times!) because we were talking so intently. A lovely evening (and a very nice change from dining alone).
I've included some quotes off the menu from dinner:
- Sour sauce spare-ribs: Make spleen strong (I ordered this one, and I have to say, my spleen is feeling quite invigorated)
- Colorectal processed in nine procedures: It has fine appearance. It has red color. It has sweetness and sour. (Okay, I thought, but what the heck is it actually?)
- Mia Family Spare Rib: It will have endless feeling
- Ear end dish: It has the function to raise the appetite and the affects of reducing the urgent diseases
Labels: beijing, olympics, pauline olympics
Aug 10, 2008
Pauline in Beijing, Day 3: A Brush with Greatness and Too Many Dumplings
This morning I woke up with Carl Lewis. And that's not something I need to keep from my husband, either. I was groggily sitting at the café at USA House (see my earlier post for an explanation of what that is), leaching off the free WiFi that AT&T was providing for everyone who visiting the house (thank you AT&T), drinking a free smoothie (from sponsor Splenda. Are you seeing a pattern here?) when a ceremony started in the open space to the side and below where I was sitting. McDonalds was sponsoring a breakfast for award winning young athletes from the Philippines (they looked to be under 12 for the most part), and the announcer was saying: "And now to give you your own gold medals, we have a man who won 9 Olympic medals." At this the kids let out a communal "ooh." "And eight of them were gold" she finished, at which point a couple of the kids actually shrieked. And then Carl Lewis strode out, his smile a beam of light, his height and physique literally of super hero quality. (On second thought, perhaps my husband shouldn't be reading this after all). He was followed by Olympic swimmer Janet Evans, and together they put on a cute awards ceremony for the pipsqueaks, and I'm not sure what happened next because I was hurriedly putting away my computer and rushing down the stairs so I could meet them as well. Another thrill.
And I'm worried that that may be the closest I get to Olympic athletes in Beijing, as I came here at the very last minute without tickets, and this is probably the first Olympics ever to sell out (I say "probably" because the archeological record is unclear as to whether there were scalpers in Athens in about, oh, 500 B.C.). I had made it my goal, at the first USA House party, to try and work the crowd and see if anyone had spare tickets I could purchase (this was, after all, a crowd of insiders-Olympic sponsors mostly). But because the first person I approached, my contact and a very lovely lady from the US Olympic Committee (she had worked closely with our editors at Frommer's to turn out the official Olympics guidebook, plus a special book just for the families of the athletes) said it would be no problem to get me a ticket, I let the opportunity pass. She asked what I'd like to see, and I said "gymnastics" (which in Beijing is actually not the hottest ticket. That would be . . . can you guess? Ping pong, which is as much a religion as a sport here). She breezily replied "Oh that should be doable." Now here it is a good 24 hours later and though I saw her again this morning and just obnoxiously peppered her with a follow-up email, she's now saying she needs to follow up and can't confirm. Oh darn.
Not that it's bad being here on the fringes of the Olympics. That in itself has been fascinating. Because I'm all alone here, and most people are traveling in groups, I've been talking primarily with the people who are working these events. How they got here and how their backgrounds played in has been actually quite fascinating. For example, the senior citizen who was manning the WiFi connection counter at USA House worked in China in 1977, setting up the first high fructose corn factory, so that Coca Cola could start manufacturing here. "Of course, Coke is now half corn syrup and half sucrose here" he told me. "And we all know how much the Chinese love their sucrose," he finished, with a knowing glance. I gave a knowing glance back, though I'll confess I have no idea what he was talking about. (He also told me, interestingly, that he has a blog he keeps at home and that it's been blocked from China. He can't post. Luckily, I'm e-mailing these posts to David Lytle, the Frommers.com editorial director, and he's posting for me. Ha ha!). I also met a young volunteer from Southern China on the subway, who talked to me about the "enjoyable sacrifice" (her words) of working on the Games, rather than getting to see them. We bonded on that one.
More encounters: At my hotel, I met four fellows who are here from Georgia to service the private jets that millionaires are apparently bringing in for the games. They didn't have tickets either, but they'd been hearing rumors about scalpers in front of some venues and were thinking of giving that a try. I told that to a couple from New York I met at a temple later in the afternoon and she told me that they'd heard the opposite (she also took that picture of me in the temple), that the police were out in force and there wasn't a ticket to be had in town. This was their fifth Olympics and they'd never bought advance seats to any (and always got in). They, too, were hoping to play their connections, but were coming up short so far.
Oh and you know how proud I was to have conquered the subway yesterday? Well, it conquered me today. Because of the Olympics, certain stations near sports venues are closed, even for folks simply trying to transfer trains. I was on my way to lunch, changing from the #10 train to the #8, when I came to the end of the hallway where the train was supposed to be and there was a temporary wall instead. Emerging from the subway, I asked help of the ubiquitous Olympics volunteers and they told me I could only use that subway if I had a ticket to the event that was happening there (I believe it was tennis). Which, of course, I didn't (drat, foiled again! My life is becoming about getting those tickets.)
But taxis are plentiful and cheap, so I splurged $3 and zipped over to Xian'r Lao Men for an absolutely spectacular dumpling lunch. I got greedy and ordered three different kinds, thinking I was going to get 6 dumplings total. But my pidgin Chinese was off (even with the help of the phrasebook) and I ended up with 30! They were so good (pork with lotus root, lamb with zuccinni and carrots with tofu and green bean) that I ended up downing 18, dipped in a scrumptious vinegary soy sauce that had pickled raw garlic in it (I ate the garlic too. Heck, I'm alone, who's going to be bothered by my breath?). The meal was definitely not a splurge: even though I wildly over-ordered, my bill came to just about $3.50 total.
After lunch, I wandered a bit in the very local neighborhood I was in and then decided to go temple hopping. I headed to Guo Zi Jian, Kong Miao and the Yonghe Gong, or in English: the former Imperial College, Confucius Temple and Lama Temple, where Tibetan Buddhism is practiced. Though all were impressive, and the Imperial College was a powerful testament to the power of education (according to the signs, the Chinese started their Imperial Education system in 500 B.C.; a later sign quoted famed British historian Toynbee as saying that it was this system of education that kept Chinese culture intact far longer than any one Western cultures -- 5,000 years), my favorite was Lama Temple.
Unlike the others, it wasn't simply a monument, but a vibrant working temple, with dozens of people engaged in standing to kneeling prayers (brutally difficult in this humidity, I thought), lighting incense and turning prayer wheels. I thought it amusing that in the midst of all this spirituality, the guardians of the temple felt the need to cite another "higher power:" outside the temple with the statue of Maitreya was a plaque from the Guinness Book of World Records, confirming that the statue within was the largest statue (59 feet) to be ever carved of a single piece of white sandalwood.
Being at the Lama Temple, built in 1694 and obviously well used today, started me thinking about the repression of Tibet today by the Chinese government . . . and a dinner I had last year when I was last in Beijing (a much more planned and guided trip) with government tourist officials. Over a lengthy meal (many courses and we each had two sets of chopsticks: one to eat with and one to take food from off the communal plates), the conversation turned to politics. And the men I was dining with, genial hosts, started discussing the Tianamen Square protests and how they were "the best thing that ever happened to Chinese tourism" (as it gave them time to "regroup" and properly train service staff at the hotels; no mention at all of lives lost and careers destroyed). And how most of the Tibetans, they felt, really wanted to stay with China and the problems in Tibet were the result of a few bad eggs.
It was a shocking conversation for me, and yet knowing what I do about Chinese censorship of the media and now seeing the long, long history of Tibetan Buddhism in Beijing, I'm able to see why they might think the way they do. Most Chinese do not support the Tibetan's bid for autonomy. And I'm not saying the Chinese are right in their sentiments -- far from it. But being here again, I'm starting to see how those sentiments might have formed. And to be frank, I worry about being misunderstood in posting these thoughts online. I don't condone China's actions on these matters. But when you look more closely at any topic, you begin to understand why the other side thinks as they do (even if they're wrong to do so).
And on that note, I'm going to sign off for today. I've had limited time on the Internet (I tend to write these posts in my hotel room and then have to dash to USA House to send them off as I don't have Wifi where I am). But I want to thank everyone for their tremendously kind words on this blog. To answer a few questions:
1) I survived the 13 hour flight by editing. I took pages of Pauline Frommer's Spain with me and edited those for about 4 hours until my computer died. Then read the second edition of PF's Paris on paper pages, editing, until my brain died. Then I watched a terrible movie (20,000 B.C.) and finally I slept a bit
2) My hotel is in the Chaoyang District, a business district though oddly, the hotel is on the grounds of a University. It looks like it was built in the last ten years. I can't walk to the events (thought I'd be able to which is why we chose this hotel . . . Grrr), but it's close to the subway station. Food's been quite good. Much better than when I came last year and had to eat at the tourist places. And yes, the event venues are as impressive as they look on TV. Really tremendous.
3) Thanks for the insight on the box-spring mattress! You're absolutely right!
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And I'm worried that that may be the closest I get to Olympic athletes in Beijing, as I came here at the very last minute without tickets, and this is probably the first Olympics ever to sell out (I say "probably" because the archeological record is unclear as to whether there were scalpers in Athens in about, oh, 500 B.C.). I had made it my goal, at the first USA House party, to try and work the crowd and see if anyone had spare tickets I could purchase (this was, after all, a crowd of insiders-Olympic sponsors mostly). But because the first person I approached, my contact and a very lovely lady from the US Olympic Committee (she had worked closely with our editors at Frommer's to turn out the official Olympics guidebook, plus a special book just for the families of the athletes) said it would be no problem to get me a ticket, I let the opportunity pass. She asked what I'd like to see, and I said "gymnastics" (which in Beijing is actually not the hottest ticket. That would be . . . can you guess? Ping pong, which is as much a religion as a sport here). She breezily replied "Oh that should be doable." Now here it is a good 24 hours later and though I saw her again this morning and just obnoxiously peppered her with a follow-up email, she's now saying she needs to follow up and can't confirm. Oh darn.
Not that it's bad being here on the fringes of the Olympics. That in itself has been fascinating. Because I'm all alone here, and most people are traveling in groups, I've been talking primarily with the people who are working these events. How they got here and how their backgrounds played in has been actually quite fascinating. For example, the senior citizen who was manning the WiFi connection counter at USA House worked in China in 1977, setting up the first high fructose corn factory, so that Coca Cola could start manufacturing here. "Of course, Coke is now half corn syrup and half sucrose here" he told me. "And we all know how much the Chinese love their sucrose," he finished, with a knowing glance. I gave a knowing glance back, though I'll confess I have no idea what he was talking about. (He also told me, interestingly, that he has a blog he keeps at home and that it's been blocked from China. He can't post. Luckily, I'm e-mailing these posts to David Lytle, the Frommers.com editorial director, and he's posting for me. Ha ha!). I also met a young volunteer from Southern China on the subway, who talked to me about the "enjoyable sacrifice" (her words) of working on the Games, rather than getting to see them. We bonded on that one.
More encounters: At my hotel, I met four fellows who are here from Georgia to service the private jets that millionaires are apparently bringing in for the games. They didn't have tickets either, but they'd been hearing rumors about scalpers in front of some venues and were thinking of giving that a try. I told that to a couple from New York I met at a temple later in the afternoon and she told me that they'd heard the opposite (she also took that picture of me in the temple), that the police were out in force and there wasn't a ticket to be had in town. This was their fifth Olympics and they'd never bought advance seats to any (and always got in). They, too, were hoping to play their connections, but were coming up short so far.Oh and you know how proud I was to have conquered the subway yesterday? Well, it conquered me today. Because of the Olympics, certain stations near sports venues are closed, even for folks simply trying to transfer trains. I was on my way to lunch, changing from the #10 train to the #8, when I came to the end of the hallway where the train was supposed to be and there was a temporary wall instead. Emerging from the subway, I asked help of the ubiquitous Olympics volunteers and they told me I could only use that subway if I had a ticket to the event that was happening there (I believe it was tennis). Which, of course, I didn't (drat, foiled again! My life is becoming about getting those tickets.)
But taxis are plentiful and cheap, so I splurged $3 and zipped over to Xian'r Lao Men for an absolutely spectacular dumpling lunch. I got greedy and ordered three different kinds, thinking I was going to get 6 dumplings total. But my pidgin Chinese was off (even with the help of the phrasebook) and I ended up with 30! They were so good (pork with lotus root, lamb with zuccinni and carrots with tofu and green bean) that I ended up downing 18, dipped in a scrumptious vinegary soy sauce that had pickled raw garlic in it (I ate the garlic too. Heck, I'm alone, who's going to be bothered by my breath?). The meal was definitely not a splurge: even though I wildly over-ordered, my bill came to just about $3.50 total.
After lunch, I wandered a bit in the very local neighborhood I was in and then decided to go temple hopping. I headed to Guo Zi Jian, Kong Miao and the Yonghe Gong, or in English: the former Imperial College, Confucius Temple and Lama Temple, where Tibetan Buddhism is practiced. Though all were impressive, and the Imperial College was a powerful testament to the power of education (according to the signs, the Chinese started their Imperial Education system in 500 B.C.; a later sign quoted famed British historian Toynbee as saying that it was this system of education that kept Chinese culture intact far longer than any one Western cultures -- 5,000 years), my favorite was Lama Temple.
Unlike the others, it wasn't simply a monument, but a vibrant working temple, with dozens of people engaged in standing to kneeling prayers (brutally difficult in this humidity, I thought), lighting incense and turning prayer wheels. I thought it amusing that in the midst of all this spirituality, the guardians of the temple felt the need to cite another "higher power:" outside the temple with the statue of Maitreya was a plaque from the Guinness Book of World Records, confirming that the statue within was the largest statue (59 feet) to be ever carved of a single piece of white sandalwood.
Being at the Lama Temple, built in 1694 and obviously well used today, started me thinking about the repression of Tibet today by the Chinese government . . . and a dinner I had last year when I was last in Beijing (a much more planned and guided trip) with government tourist officials. Over a lengthy meal (many courses and we each had two sets of chopsticks: one to eat with and one to take food from off the communal plates), the conversation turned to politics. And the men I was dining with, genial hosts, started discussing the Tianamen Square protests and how they were "the best thing that ever happened to Chinese tourism" (as it gave them time to "regroup" and properly train service staff at the hotels; no mention at all of lives lost and careers destroyed). And how most of the Tibetans, they felt, really wanted to stay with China and the problems in Tibet were the result of a few bad eggs.
It was a shocking conversation for me, and yet knowing what I do about Chinese censorship of the media and now seeing the long, long history of Tibetan Buddhism in Beijing, I'm able to see why they might think the way they do. Most Chinese do not support the Tibetan's bid for autonomy. And I'm not saying the Chinese are right in their sentiments -- far from it. But being here again, I'm starting to see how those sentiments might have formed. And to be frank, I worry about being misunderstood in posting these thoughts online. I don't condone China's actions on these matters. But when you look more closely at any topic, you begin to understand why the other side thinks as they do (even if they're wrong to do so).
And on that note, I'm going to sign off for today. I've had limited time on the Internet (I tend to write these posts in my hotel room and then have to dash to USA House to send them off as I don't have Wifi where I am). But I want to thank everyone for their tremendously kind words on this blog. To answer a few questions:
1) I survived the 13 hour flight by editing. I took pages of Pauline Frommer's Spain with me and edited those for about 4 hours until my computer died. Then read the second edition of PF's Paris on paper pages, editing, until my brain died. Then I watched a terrible movie (20,000 B.C.) and finally I slept a bit
2) My hotel is in the Chaoyang District, a business district though oddly, the hotel is on the grounds of a University. It looks like it was built in the last ten years. I can't walk to the events (thought I'd be able to which is why we chose this hotel . . . Grrr), but it's close to the subway station. Food's been quite good. Much better than when I came last year and had to eat at the tourist places. And yes, the event venues are as impressive as they look on TV. Really tremendous.
3) Thanks for the insight on the box-spring mattress! You're absolutely right!
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Labels: beijing, olympics, pauline olympics
Fifty years ago, 
Arthur Frommer is generally acknowledged to be the nation's foremost travel authority. He is the founder of the
