Journey to the World

That day I woke up late trying to get over a jet leg I got the day before. At 12:00 in the afternoon I walked out of the hotel. In front there’s a store renting new city bikes for 10 yuans  per day (you have to leave a deposit of 300 yuan). The forbidden city is located a few kilometers from the hotel I was staying in. Thirty minutes of bicycle ride. On the way I discovered how much China, or at least Beijing, is bicycle friendly. All main roads have at least one lane only for bicycles. On one road I noticed the bicycle lane is even wider than the cars lane.

The forbidden city is open until 17:00. The compound is huge, so those who want to see everything, need to be in good shape, or get early in the morning to give enough rest time.

Between huge walls and ancient Chinese buildings I started to feel like things are repeating themselves. The ticket’s price is 35 yuan. Students get a discount. In the other side of the forbidden city there’s a garden that’s worth a visit since it is different than the rest of the structures.

During my visit, a young Chinese student addressed me, offering to visit her gallery in the next building. There are warnings in Lonely Planet against this kind of people. It was not difficult to understand she used a sophisticated marketing technique. She seemed nice so out of curiosity I followed her to see what’s all the fuss about. The girl showed me her paintings. She tried to interest me in buying them, something which apparently didn’t happen, but I didn’t see her as an annoyance. She wasn’t the last one to try the same marketing tactics on me, but one was enough for me and I stopped cooperating. Just a little tip, in case this phenomenon bothers you too much, say “bu yao” (note that the letter ‘b’ is pronounced like a ‘p’) which means “I don’t want to”. Once they realize you speak a little Chinese you will be left alone much quicker. As I’ve learned during my tours in Beijing the Chinese people appreciate more those who can speak their language. Knowing a few words and sentences in correct Chinese pronounciation will help you get rid of annoyances.

On the way out of the forbidden city, two young Chinese fellows helped me to take a photograph. Since they’ve talked English, we’ve developed a conversation, in which they told me they are students who came to visit they big city – Beijing, from their university in Fujian province, far south from Beijing.

They seemed very nice and invited me to a Sichuan restaurant not so far from the forbidden city. I could not refuse to such an invitation. We went to pick up my bike and started walking in a way that was supposed to be short but turned out to be very long… And my feet were already aching from the kilometers I walked in the forbidden city and the day before.

TJ & Della. These are of course their western names they chose for themselves. I can never remember their Chinese names. Many chinese people who want to connect to the western world choose another name which is close or reminds the original name, or sometimes because they simply like it. Della chose this name because it sounds pretty to her hears, although I have never heard it before. It is an original name. TJ is a shortcut for the full Chinese name. This is a convieniency for everyone while you get to keep your own name. They both learn in the same university buy each one comes from a different province in China. Della is from Chongching in Sichuan and TJ from Xishuangbanna in Yunnan, a tropical area on the border of Burma and Laos.

Della insisted on carrying my bike as we walked in Beijing’s streets. I could not figure out if this was out of niceness, enjoyment or a combination of both. She said she enjoyed carrying them, but as I saw her getting tired, I had to snatch them back. While we were talking, I had one myth broken about the Chinese people – not everyone is born with a bicycle under his or her legs. Della, whose English was a little less advanced then TJ’s told me that she learned to ride a month ago. I offered her to ride the bike, but the seat was too high, and so Della had to settle for carrying the bike on the streets…

At some stage we tried to catch a taxi, but no taxi accepted a bicycle in his car. By the way, you should know that you cannot get a bike into the subway as well. I have a feeling that it is the same on buses. This brings up a disturbing question – what do you do when you are out of energy or when something happens to your bicycle…

After learning a few new words in Mandarin (did I say bicycle?), and after I explained to TJ & Della which kinds of food I like to eat, we arrived at the Sichuan restaurant.

We entered a small restaurant. Before I had the chance to say anything, a Sichuan steamed beef dish was ordered, and a potato noodle dish on which we had an argument whether they’re made of potatoes or tomatoes. They mystery was solved when the cook brought the raw material (a potato). Those noodles, which were not bad at all, had a taste of half-raw french fries. I had a hard time with the sticks, which in effect caused me to eat slowly. A new dish was then ordered, a fish, and before I had the time to think, it was already on the table.

So I was privileged to eat an original Sichuan dinner with my new Chinese friends. When it was time to pay I tried to pay but was bluntly denied. I was told guests can not pay, and today I’m a guest. At that moment I did not feel convenient for being denied to pay for what I have recieved, but since I ‘ve heard before of this tradition, I decided not to pressure on this matter.

We walked from there to a nearby park circling a lake. Hundreds of local people walking in the trails, but no tourist to be found. The national game, feather ball, which is some kind of a feather connected to several metal rings which you kick with your legs. It is a popular game for many years. Chinese music is played out of big speakers, to which the young locals are dancing. Della took TJ to the park for some dancing.

So we went from there to one of the pubs. This time I insisted on paying, but got a lecture on breaking a Chinese tradition. Although this time I invited TJ & Della to the pub, I was still the guest. I had to apologize by saying this is how it’s how it goes in my country. Well, you don’t play with traditions.

We exchanged emails and I went on my bike to look for the hotel, hiding in the complex hutongs of Beijing.

 

This article was published at 3-09-2008 Time: 8:19 and belongs to categories Bicycle, Beijing, Far East Travel Journal 2008 - 2009, China. You can follow comments to this article using the feed RSS 2.0. You can post a comment, or trackback from your website.