Before Da and Nils arrived I sat around the airport, and marveled some more. It’s a great place. When I saw that Da’s and Nils’s plane had been on the ‘arrive’ screen for about half an hour I went over to the meet and greet line to see if I could find them. It took them another half hour before they came through customs. When I had spotted some western looking people who said they’d been on the flight from Washington I made a sign with a piece of paper that said “Dumb Ass” for Da and Nils. But by the time they got off I was so paranoid that there might be another way out that I kept looking for them as they came through customs. I completely missed them, and it was Da who found me as he walked out of the international arrival gate, looking around hoplesslessly and holding a sign that said “Dumb Ass.” Yes, it felt stupid.
When Da got out it was immediately apparent that not only was I waiting for them, but so were several of his relatives whom I wouldn’t have recognized if he hadn’t pointed them out to me. His cousin, her husband, and two of his aunts were there too, standing about ten feet away from me the entire time I had been standing with my stupid sign. We walked through to the parking structure and loaded our things and ourselves into two cars and headed to the centre of town.
Beijing is a hot place. As soon as we got to the parking structure, which really is a greenhouse with all of its opalescent windows and closed ventilation, we realized this. It was apparent all the way into Beijing. As we were driving on one of the roads we spotted a sad looking man riding in the back of a taxi, his head out the window. He looked miserable, and the moment I focused my eyes on him he started blowing chunks onto the passing pavement. It was hot in the Audi, despite how nice a car it seemed, and seeing him throw up almost made me want to do it too.
But Beijing is a much nicer, greener city than I would have imagined, on first glance. The ring roads that go around the city centre are really small motorways, going past some incredible architecture. A lot of it is just rubbish, glass buildings with a gaudy “Hi Chi Lo Shopping Center” signs on the top of them emblazoned in gold, but there were some real gems too. The new China Television tower is astonishing, mesmerizing even. It’s hard to imagine how, much less why, they would build a tower that was more or less in the shape of two Vs put together.
We got to Da’s uncle’s apartment to unpack our stuff. The apartment block is nice but old; the kind of old that makes it clear that it is well-used and used by many people, but the kind of nice that indicates that the people who do live there keep it well-kept. The apartment is small with tile floors, with all horizontal surfaces covered with boxes of food and medicine and fishtanks, but somehow it is wonderful. They have a little Dog, whose name I will Anglicize to “Sean Jean,” who is possibly the perfect Chinese apartment dog. He’s small and about half of him is taken up with fluffy hair, with a little pug face. We found ourselves at home right away. Da’s uncle, who worked in the government before he retired, seems to be a legend of a man. He quickly proceeded to take us out on the town and get a little taste of local food.
The restaurant we went to was across the street, but it took ages to get there. We sauntered along the sidewalk, even over the road amid oncoming traffic, at a snail’s pace. It took ten minutes to cross the street and get to the restaurant on our block. Da caught up with his family prodigiously. It was hot and humid outside, and other people were walking as slow as we with tank tops and shirts rolled up. I suppose this is Beijing.
We got to the restaurant and Da’s uncle, true to form, insisted that we take a private room in the back. I left the ordering to Da and his family; clearly I had no place trying to do anything in a country where I understand about three words. We ended up with quite a spread: roast lamb on the leg, chicken, fish, blood tofu soup with intestines, egg soup, cabbage, the fatty bacon pork meat and more. It was great, if a little different. The blood tofu took a little while to get used to; it was especially strong. I had a hard time with the fish and all their little bones. Da’s uncle ordered each of us a bottle of Chinese beer and a bottle of Chinese spirits to share amongst the four men at the table. Every so often, for no apparent reason, Da’s uncle would raise his glass and say “Gu Bay”, which means “cheers” in Chinese, and we’d clink our glasses. The spirit was sweet and strong. The beer, especially the Beijing beer, was light and slightly metallic, very refreshing. The food revolved around a large revolving glass in the middle of the table. We were encouraged to eat as much as we could. I was in heaven.
I now also know how to speak one of my first Chinese phrases. Da translated for his uncle when he asked us how we like the beer we were trying, especially the one from Beijing. With encouragement from Da, I put my arm on Nil’s back and said, “Wu-
When Da got out it was immediately apparent that not only was I waiting for them, but so were several of his relatives whom I wouldn’t have recognized if he hadn’t pointed them out to me. His cousin, her husband, and two of his aunts were there too, standing about ten feet away from me the entire time I had been standing with my stupid sign. We walked through to the parking structure and loaded our things and ourselves into two cars and headed to the centre of town.
Beijing is a hot place. As soon as we got to the parking structure, which really is a greenhouse with all of its opalescent windows and closed ventilation, we realized this. It was apparent all the way into Beijing. As we were driving on one of the roads we spotted a sad looking man riding in the back of a taxi, his head out the window. He looked miserable, and the moment I focused my eyes on him he started blowing chunks onto the passing pavement. It was hot in the Audi, despite how nice a car it seemed, and seeing him throw up almost made me want to do it too.
But Beijing is a much nicer, greener city than I would have imagined, on first glance. The ring roads that go around the city centre are really small motorways, going past some incredible architecture. A lot of it is just rubbish, glass buildings with a gaudy “Hi Chi Lo Shopping Center” signs on the top of them emblazoned in gold, but there were some real gems too. The new China Television tower is astonishing, mesmerizing even. It’s hard to imagine how, much less why, they would build a tower that was more or less in the shape of two Vs put together.
We got to Da’s uncle’s apartment to unpack our stuff. The apartment block is nice but old; the kind of old that makes it clear that it is well-used and used by many people, but the kind of nice that indicates that the people who do live there keep it well-kept. The apartment is small with tile floors, with all horizontal surfaces covered with boxes of food and medicine and fishtanks, but somehow it is wonderful. They have a little Dog, whose name I will Anglicize to “Sean Jean,” who is possibly the perfect Chinese apartment dog. He’s small and about half of him is taken up with fluffy hair, with a little pug face. We found ourselves at home right away. Da’s uncle, who worked in the government before he retired, seems to be a legend of a man. He quickly proceeded to take us out on the town and get a little taste of local food.
The restaurant we went to was across the street, but it took ages to get there. We sauntered along the sidewalk, even over the road amid oncoming traffic, at a snail’s pace. It took ten minutes to cross the street and get to the restaurant on our block. Da caught up with his family prodigiously. It was hot and humid outside, and other people were walking as slow as we with tank tops and shirts rolled up. I suppose this is Beijing.
We got to the restaurant and Da’s uncle, true to form, insisted that we take a private room in the back. I left the ordering to Da and his family; clearly I had no place trying to do anything in a country where I understand about three words. We ended up with quite a spread: roast lamb on the leg, chicken, fish, blood tofu soup with intestines, egg soup, cabbage, the fatty bacon pork meat and more. It was great, if a little different. The blood tofu took a little while to get used to; it was especially strong. I had a hard time with the fish and all their little bones. Da’s uncle ordered each of us a bottle of Chinese beer and a bottle of Chinese spirits to share amongst the four men at the table. Every so often, for no apparent reason, Da’s uncle would raise his glass and say “Gu Bay”, which means “cheers” in Chinese, and we’d clink our glasses. The spirit was sweet and strong. The beer, especially the Beijing beer, was light and slightly metallic, very refreshing. The food revolved around a large revolving glass in the middle of the table. We were encouraged to eat as much as we could. I was in heaven.
I now also know how to speak one of my first Chinese phrases. Da translated for his uncle when he asked us how we like the beer we were trying, especially the one from Beijing. With encouragement from Da, I put my arm on Nil’s back and said, “Wu-
men aiy Beijing pidj-eo.” (“We love Beijing beer). It was a big hit, the first time I said it. I suppose I ran it into the ground a bit repeating it for the rest of the night, to whomever I saw.
We left the restaurant slightly drunk, very giddy, and very, very full. I now understood why people walk so slowly in Beijing. While Da went off with his family Nils and I came back upstairs to Da’s uncle’s apartment. We were both very, very tired, and I passed the time by trying to construct buildings with Mao Jung characters. Da eventually came back and we played a bit of one-card poker using the tiles as chips. By about 10:00 Da and I were exhausted, and Nils had been passed out for hours. We got things set up in the bedroom in Da’s uncle’s place and found the bed. I find that beds here in china, like furniture in general, is a bit lacking on the “give” property that I’m used to. The bed in the room was nothing more than a box of wood with a foam top beneath the sheets, but I couldn’t have cared by that point. We lay back and we were each too tired to say a word.
And thus concluded our first day in Beijing.
And thus concluded our first day in Beijing.
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