This is the first of my three-part series of my trip to China, which I’ll post throughout the week. I apologize if it’s a little bit more disjointed than usual - I wrote these daily on my phone. I hope you enjoy!
Prologue:
It started with a push notification. Last November, I received an alert on my phone breaking the story that Michael Spavor and Michael Kovrig had passed along information to Global Affairs Canada. This was a shocking twist in the case; before this revelation, it had been believed that these two Canadians, who were living in China, had been arrested and held in prison by the Chinese government as a completely arbitrary retaliation against the Canadian government for the arrest of an important Chinese citizen. After those Canadians were arrested, I had sworn off travelling to China, both on principle and because of a fear of a similar fate. I was planning on travelling to Taiwan at the time and figured that that was as close as I would get for at least several years. But after this news broke, I suddenly felt that the doors to China had been thrown open.
Why was I interested in going through this door? It was partly for the same reasons I’d want to travel anywhere: the famous sites, the delicious food, the adventure. But part of it was that China specifically is such an important country, both to world history and contemporary politics, and such a mystery to the West, that I felt like a trip could actually improve my understanding of the world.
I prepared a lot for the trip. I had to go through the annoying process of obtaining a Chinese visa, which involved booking all my accommodations and travel well in advance and making two separate trips from Daegu to Seoul, having to use a sick day at school each time. I also prepared by obsessively reading about the country, consuming several books and countless articles about China’s history and politics. By the time I departed, I could identify all 33 provinces, municipalities, autonomous regions, and special administrative regions on a map, and could explain the difference between hutongs, hukou, Hunan, and Hu Jintao (and I probably will over the course of this blog post). Even despite all this learning, my knowledge of China remained surface-level; there is just so much to know about a country of 1.4 billion people with nearly 4,000 years of recorded history. That said, I was eager to learn more.
Day 1:
I woke up at 5:10 a.m. in Incheon, the city with Korea’s busiest airport. The trip began to feel real when I traded my Korean money at the airport for Chinese Yuan, with Mao Zedong’s face plastered on every denomination of bill. I landed in Beijing mid-morning, still barely believing I was actually there. I was a tiny bit nervous, of course, because of the famously merciless Chinese government, but I felt a little bit better when I was able to breeze through immigration.
Beijing doesn’t need an introduction, but I’ll give it one anyway. It’s the 8th largest city in the world by population, 2nd in China, with about 20 million people. It’s one of the longest continuously inhabited places in the world, first settled several thousand years ago. It was the capital of several Chinese states over time but became the capital of all of China for the first time in the 13th century, which it has remained, on and off. For most of the 15th to the 19th centuries, it was the most populous city in the world. The city is centred around the Forbidden City, the traditional imperial palace, sprawling outwards in all directions, “like a pancake,” as they say in Chinese. It has six ring roads and twenty-seven subway lines. It’s a political, economic, cultural, and historical juggernaut.
I bought a phone plan and took a train to the subway station near my hostel. I emerged into a quiet residential neighbourhood, which surprised me. Perhaps my biggest surprise of my first day was how relatively quiet and calm the city was. Even though I was staying in a fairly central area, there was very little noise pollution. Sure, there are cars on the major roads, but they are rare on the side lanes, where people mostly get around by foot, bicycle, or most common, quiet electric scooters. Even in the busier areas, though, Beijing is not that loud and busy. I was expecting crowdedness on par with Tokyo or even Delhi, but I did not even have to squeeze into an overly crowded subway.
My first impression of Beijing was that it was not entirely alien. At this point, I have travelled to many countries in East and Southeast Asia, and Beijing did not feel entirely different from those places. Helpfully, most signs are in English as well as Chinese.
I checked into my hostel, which was not as nice as I hoped it would be. It was kind of messy and the room had an unpleasant smell. Still, it was livable, although a little expensive; it’s not easy to find cheap digs in Beijing. I was very surprised that some of the hostel staff spoke no English; in all of the countries I’ve travelled to, that was a first.
I started my touring of Beijing by visiting the Lama Temple, a Buddhist temple combining traditional Chinese and Tibetan architectural styles. The grounds of the temple were very large, stretching several city blocks. I walked through several buildings of the temple laid out in rows, incorrectly believing each one to be the last. The Lama Temple is just one of the many large grounds that are dotted throughout the historic city. The highlight of the temple was a 26-metre tall statue of the Buddha that barely fit inside the building holding it. A Guinness World Record plaque almost unbelievably attested that this colossal statue was carved from the wood of a single tree from Nepal.
I then visited the Confucius Temple and Imperial College, where emperors would pray to Confucius and was the top educational institution in China from the 14th To the 19th centuries. Next, I went to the Nanluogoxiang area to walk through hutongs. Hutongs are alleys which wind through Beijing and other Chinese cities providing the entrances for residential courtyard complexes. While hutongs were the primary makeup of the residential areas of the city throughout the 20th century, they have been mostly knocked down in favour of high-rise buildings. As I walked through the hutongs, it was hard to know what was ‘real.’ In one sense, all of these hutongs were real, as they clearly are actually lived in by real Beijingers, with real parked bicycles and strung-up laundry. On the other hand, it was ‘fake’ in the sense that these hutongs were likely kept for the benefit of tourists, with snack and souvenir concessions nearby. This sense of not being easily able to distinguish ‘real’ and ‘fake’ pervaded me throughout my day.
I then ate lunch, where I was joined at my table by a curious teenager who didn’t speak English but asked me some questions through a translation app. After lunch, I went to the 13th century Drum Tower to catch a view of the city from above, then walked by the lakes that snake down the west side of the city. I visited another Buddhist temple, then went to the Church of the Saviour, an 18th century Cathedral which had been attacked by the anti-foreigner 1899 Boxer Rebellion. The interior had some interesting paintings in a style a little bit unusual for a church. Even more unusual, there seemed to be some sort of dragon shrine on the grounds of the cathedral. I finished the day walking by the numerous historical sites which sit on the shores of the lake in Jingshan Park. Many people were taking photos in the park dressed in traditional Chinese clothing, makeup, and hairstyling, even little girls barely out of toddlerhood adorably dressed up.
Throughout the day, I was expecting to feel the eyes of the government watching me, but I didn’t. My model for this feeling was Singapore, where everything is very orderly. However, Beijing did not have that feeling of top-down order at all. It felt more chaotic and relaxed than Singapore, or even the formal society of South Korea. Instead, people walk down the street holding bowls of noodles or open beers. On the hot summer day, many men in the street wore their shirts or tank tops rolled up at their rib cage, exposing their bulging bellies. I could not imagine that happening in Korea.
The city was also friendlier than I expected. As I tried to figure out how to navigate, people were generally kind and helpful. This is the total opposite from the face projected internationally by the Chinese government, who for the past several years have pursued an aggressive (un)diplomatic strategy known as “wolf warriors.” A day in Beijing was a helpful reminder that China is not entirely its government.
The way I felt the Chinese government’s presence the most was actually not in the physical world, but the digital one. China has the world’s most sophisticated censorship regime, where all foreign websites are blocked. Usually when I travel, I use Google Maps to navigate, Wikipedia to learn, and Google Translate to communicate. Not being able to use Google search when I had a question was very strange. Luckily, I bought a VPN before I came, so I was able to dodge these restrictions and use my precious Wikipedia when I want, but the censorship is still a huge inconvenience. Instead of using Western software for many purposes, I have to use Chinese alternatives. WeChat, the most important Chinese app used for messaging, ticketing, web surfing, and more, can be difficult to use without being able to read Chinese. Baidu Maps, the primary Chinese alternative to Google Maps, rarely works in English. I instead used Apple Maps, which does work in China, but has a tendency to send you a few blocks away from your destination. I consider myself fortunate that I was able to set up AliPay and WeChat Pay, the typical ways of making purchases in China, which were only made available to foreigners last year.
I had a good first day in China. I ended up walking over 40,000 steps, so at the end of the day I was tired but pleased with the amount of sightseeing I did.
Day 2:
I woke up early again, at 5:15, to go on a day trip to the Great Wall of China. Ideally, I would have rested a day after my tiring first day before waking up early to make the trip, but the weather report was not promising for the rest of my time in Beijing. I took two buses and a taxi to reach the section of the Great Wall at Jinshanling, by the border of Beijing municipality and Hebei province.
The name “Great Wall” is somewhat misleading, making it sound like one continuous wall was built at one time. Instead, several iterations of walls were built to ward off various invaders (not just Mongols) at various stages of Chinese history. Some sections of wall have been restored, some still exist in an unrestored state, and some no longer stand.
While many walls have been built, the image of the Great Wall is associated with those built by the Ming dynasty (1368–1644). The walls before that were likely built out of sticks and earth instead of brick. Jinshanling, the stretch of the Wall I went to, is a famously scenic area of the Ming Wall. It’s a few hours from Beijing, but that’s good; there are closer sections to the city, but those are said to be overcrowded.
I was hoping to take a train, but it was sold out, so I was stuck with my buses. On the second bus, I ran out of funds on my transit card, so I had to pay cash. My app told me the fare was 12 Yuan ($2.40 CAD), so I dropped in a 20 ($4), which caused a bit of a commotion on the bus, as they told me I was overpaying. Because they were speaking in Chinese, I didn’t realize that someone had offered to make change, but I didn’t particularly care about the small overpay. That said, the riders and bus driver all thought me overpaying was hilarious.
The Chinese rural roads were far from the craziest I have ever been on, but drivers were incredibly aggressive with passing the bus. Several would have been crushed if the bus driver did not anticipate these situations and slow down.
After the taxi and a shuttle bus, I was finally able to start hiking along the wall. I climbed up a path and began my journey.
The first thing I’ll say about Jinshanling is that it would still be worth visiting even if there was no wall. The craggy green rolling hills are absolutely beautiful, and the wall is just icing on the proverbial cake.
With the wall, the views are stunning. I’m sorry that I don’t have another adjective. It’s particularly special knowing that you can’t find a view like that in any other country on Earth.
I hiked along the wall, going west, then turning around and going east until it ended. I don’t know if I’ve taken so many pictures in my life. Each tower provided slightly different views. Even as I walked back the way I came, I couldn’t help myself from taking pictures of the same views for the second time. It wasn’t deserted, but it was also far from busy. Outside of the central stretch, there often was not another person within sight.
Eventually, when I got to the east side there were very few people. This was an unrestored stretch of the wall, but still in pretty good condition. I reached the end of the walkable area, bumping up against a military area.
Before I did my research, I had kind of imagined it being a pleasant stroll at the top of the wall. This was far from the case. It was a legitimately challenging hike. Each watch tower was parked on top of a hill, meaning you would often climb down then up to get to the next one. Sometimes there were normal stairs, sometimes there were steep stairs, sometimes there were no stairs and just a very steep ramp. It was very difficult at times, and the mid-thirties heat did not make it easier.
Most of the time I walked alone, but for small stretches I chatted with a teenager fluent in English and his non-English speaking father, as well as a middle school history teacher who was decent at English. I learned from the latter that the Chinese English teaching system is like the Korean one, in that reading and writing skills are taught in Chinese, except without the speaking and listening skills class that I have been teaching, at least in his experience.
As I hiked, I saw some women wearing these special sunsuits which cover their entire body, leaving just a hole for the eyes, which was covered by sunglasses. While this is just an aggressive skincare strategy, it could have been mistaken for extreme modesty veiling (the type associated with the Muslim world, although women actually used to veil in China up until the 8th century).
After four hours of hiking, I was satisfied, and I took a taxi to the train station. On the way, the taxi was stopped at a police checkpoint, and we both had to give our documents. My driver had to pull over and have a bit of a long conversation in Chinese. This seemingly arbitrary and pointless check was closer to what I was expecting in terms of dealing with the Chinese state.
Over the course of the day, I realized that I need to learn a little bit more Chinese. Speaking a little bit of the language, as I do in Korea, makes a huge difference compared to speaking none.
I was very satisfied with my second day in China, as getting to see a site as famous as the Great Wall which lives up to expectations is not something that happens every day.
Day 3:
I started the day by visiting the Summer Palace, an imperial palace with huge gardens used during the Qing dynasty (1644-1912). The place was absolutely packed, far and away the busiest place I’d been to on the trip. Unlike some other attractions, the entire swarm of thousands of tourists was almost entirely Chinese, as I could count the number of obvious foreigners I saw on two hands. The huge crowds are in part because of Chinese summer holidays taking place. Travellers are sometimes warned against travelling to China in the summer for this reason, but I didn’t have any flexibility with dates.
The grounds of the palace are huge, so it was hard to know what to see first. The primary palace building sits on a hill, with a string of other buildings surrounding a gigantic lake. Many of the buildings have been converted into gift shops or snack stalls. None of the buildings were that old, as the entire palace was razed to the ground in 1860 by the English and French after the Second Opium War. I visited the main palace building and the palace museum. The final thing I saw before I left was Suzhou Street, a canal that had been lined with shops. The walkway was very narrow, and I’m sure many tourists have accidentally taken dips. The street was used by members of the imperial family who would go ‘shopping’ at the fake stores to simulate being commoners. The grass really is always greener.
For lunch, I got zhajiangmian, a Beijing specialty that I had had in Korea before. After the meal, the waiter came up to me with a translated statement on his phone reading “you can try our noodles for free.” I was confused because I had already eaten and paid. Seeing my confusion, he translated the statement into Spanish instead. It didn’t help.
After lunch, I wandered Dashilan, a touristy shopping district, then tried to visit Niujie Mosque, the oldest mosque in Beijing, dating back to the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368). It’s used by the Hui community. The Hui are the name of the ethnically East Asian (as opposed to the Central Asian Uyghurs) Chinese Muslims spread across the country. The explorer Zheng He, one of the most famous figures in Chinese history, was a member of the Hui community. In certain ways, they have assimilated, for example, by using the Chinese language. In other ways, they remain distinct. For example, Hui cuisine is distinct from Chinese cuisine, as the latter uses a lot of pork, but the former abstains from it.
Unfortunately, the mosque was closed for renovations. These renovations were very suspicious. While China’s persecution of its Muslim Uyghur population in Xinjiang is well-known, its repression of Hui Muslims is less so. Throughout the country, the Chinese government has been demolishing or forcibly renovating mosques to remove Islamic features like minarets. I cannot be sure if that is what is happening at Niujie, but if it is, it’s a shame that China was more tolerant of Muslims in the 13th century than today.
I next went to the Temple of Heaven, a beautiful and imposing temple that was the site of important imperial rituals during the Ming and Qing dynasties (14th-20th centuries). Heaven-worship was an important state practice for nearly all of Chinese history, dating back to the Shang dynasty (c. 1600-1046 BCE). At the temple, everyone crowded around to take pictures of the interior of the main building, which was dark and nearly empty. I went to Panjiayuan Flea market, which was mostly filled with bead bracelets and other assorted poor quality knick-knacks. I bought a cheap and presumably fake coin from the Qing dynasty (1644-1912).
Finally, I went to Tiananmen Square for the flag-lowering ceremony. I had reserved a ticket in advance (as is mandatory) and arrived early for the ceremony, but was met with a line that stretched back a whole block. I ended up missing the ceremony because the security line was so slow-moving. That was fine, because I mostly wanted to see the square. The square is one of the most famous sites in China. At one end sits the red Tiananmen Gate, with Mao Zedong’s portrait hanging over the crowd. The other buildings around the square are all in the Sino-Soviet architectural style, and include Mao’s tomb, the national museum, and the Great Hall of the People. The square was also the site of the famous 1989 student protests, where it seemed democracy briefly knocked at China’s door, before the army eventually agreed to crush the protests by force. The square is unlike anywhere I’d been before; there’s no real Western equivalent of the totalitarian atmosphere that emanates from the architecture itself.
As I arrived, the buildings lights turned on. One buildings was so draped out in lights that it looked like a Communist Christmas tree.
I was a little bit disturbed by the nationalist feelings from the crowd at the square. It was a reminder of the genuine and widespread support the CCP has, despite (or because of) its aggressive foreign policy, mistreatment of minorities, Orwellian surveillance measures, and general opposition to the liberal democratic values I hold so dear. Of course, I was in the square with them. One little girl wore PLA (People’s Liberation Army, the Chinese military) pajamas, which irked me, but is probably no different than Canadian Jews wearing IDF swag.
After, I walked to Wanfujing, a fancy shopping district. If Tiananmen Square is the temple of Chinese Communism, Wanfujing is the temple of Chinese capitalism. In its centre is a wide street lined with stores of mostly Western brands. I had come to find its street food market, which I heard was the best in the city, but despite it appearing on multiple maps, all I could find was a dark alley. I later learned that it had been shut down for good just a few months prior. I have no idea why. I ate at a mall instead.
Day 4:
I started the day by going to the Forbidden City, right in the middle of town. The Forbidden City was the primary place of the emperors during the Ming and Qing dynasties (14th-20th centuries). It’s said that one million workers were used for its construction. After Puyi, the last emperor, was evicted, it was turned into a museum, and was thankfully preserved even during the destruction of the Cultural Revolution (a period from 1966-76 of state-sanctioned social upheaval, as elements of tradition and capitalism were purged), because of special orders by Premier Zhou Enlai.
I was lucky to be able to see the Forbidden City at all. Tickets have to be bought a week in advance, and they sell out within minutes. My first try to get tickets was unsuccessful, but my second try worked. I was not so lucky in obtaining tickets to some of Beijing’s other major sites, like Mao Zedong’s mausoleum and the National Museum of China, where tickets sell out within seconds. Mao’s tomb is particularly impossible to acquire without speaking Chinese, as only 1,000 tickets per day are available and one has to be able to input their information following the Chinese language instructions immediately. I was disappointed to not be able to see the mausoleum in particular, but after witnessing the crowding at the Summer Palace, I understood the reason for ticketing limits.
Seeing the Forbidden City was great. It was very cool to see the site that I had seen in pictures and the movie “The Last Emperor.” There is still a bit of an air of royalty to the magnificent site. Legend says that the palace complex, one of the biggest and oldest in the world, has 9,999 rooms. Scientific counting finds that that is a myth, and that there’s actually a measly 8,886.
I walked through the imposing but beautiful gates, through a series of royal palaces used for various purposes. For instance, one palace was used by the emperor to “inspect the seeds and farming tools” used for the royal planting ceremony. While the buildings were beautiful, visitors are not actually allowed in, and they mostly seemed pretty empty, with just a throne in the middle of each of the main buildings. Even the building used for the emperor’s living quarters seemed kind of unlivable.
After seeing the major buildings, I wandered through the city, trying to find the building housing the royal treasures. I kept on running into dead ends. I guess a bunch of the City really is Forbidden. Eventually, I found the building, and was able to view many of the royal treasures, such as jewelry and vases, many of which really were beautiful. There was also a building dedicated just to the royal clock collection, with a bunch of clocks that were so elaborate that they were really just colourful sculptures that happened to have a clock face attached to them.
This collection was actually another part of the collection I had seen back in Taiwan, which the Taiwanese government pillaged/rescued back in the 1940s. At the end of the day, it’s really just good that the collection was not destroyed during the turmoil of the 20th century.
The only downer of the morning was that it rained through much of my visit, alternating between dribbles and downpours. Although this made the experience not quite as nice, I still felt lucky to have gotten a ticket.
After a few days in China, I have grown skeptical of the Western stereotype of it being a very collectivist society (as Korea and Japan maybe are). Few people wear masks. Queue discipline is lackluster at best. No one respects the subway seats reserved for those in need. People don’t pay attention to whether their umbrella is poking anyone (it’s usually poking me). I’m not saying Chinese people are rude or unruly by any means, but I do think that the idea of all East Asian cultures being similarly collectivist is probably incorrect.
After the Forbidden City, I then went to Dongyue Temple, a Yuan-era (1271–1368) Daoist temple. Here it might be worth pausing to discuss religion in China.
To understand the basics of religion in the East, you have to understand that it is conceptually different from religion in the West. In the West, religions are mutually exclusive; you are either a Jew, or a Muslim, or a Evangelical Presbyterian, etc. Eastern religions, to paint in broad strokes, are somewhere between what Westerners would recognize as a religion and a philosophy. There are three major religions in China: Buddhism, Confucianism, and Daoism. Buddhism was imported from India around the 2nd century and follows the teachings of the Buddha. Confucianism and Daoism are both indigenous to China, and follow the teachings of Confucius and Laozi, respectively. Confucianism emphasizes social harmony and respect in familial and other relationships. Daoism emphasizes living in harmony with the universe. Interestingly, all three of the figures live at roughly the same time, and some scholars contend that Judaism and Hinduism emerged around this time too. Anyways, traditionally, most Chinese people’s beliefs were a merger of those three religions, and maybe local shamanistic practices too.
As a Communist country, China’s current government is officially atheist, but freedom of religion is supposedly guaranteed. This isn’t really true in practice though, as China only sanctions five religions: Buddhism, Daoism, Islam, Protestantism, and Catholicism.
Dongyue Temple was colourful and interesting to explore. I particularly liked some of the alien-like figures they had on display. Although the temple is technicallly centuries old, it was mostly destroyed in the Cultural Revolution, so the temple standing today is newer than it appears.
After the temple, I walked to my next site, and saw a group of soldiers jogging in the rain while carrying knives.
I checked out the very cool Galaxy SOHO building, before the intensifying rain persuaded me to change course and visit a museum. I went to the Overseas Chinese History Museum, which told the story of Chinese migrations and was actually fairly honest and well done. At the museum, I met a woman, Shirley, and her 7-year old daughter, Joy. Joy was dressed in a PLA shirt. Shirley is interested in having Joy study in Canada in middle school, so we chatted for a while about Canada. After, the three of us went to dinner. Shirley wanted Joy to practice her English with me, but she was mostly too shy. Shirley was surprised that as a Canadian, I sound the same as Americans. She was also interested in hearing my perspective as a foreigner in China. I had an interesting chat with her, where I got the perspective of a real-life Communist Party member. I tried to walk the line between being honest and not saying anything that would get me thrown in jail.
Day 5:
I started the day by returning to Tiananmen Square. When I went two days ago, I only really got to see it after dark, so I wanted a better daytime view. I thought the line would be shorter than last time, but I was mistaken. I waited over an hour.
It was still worth the wait. During the day, I was allowed to get closer to Tiananmen Gate, where Mao’s portrait famously hangs. It’s not the most flattering portrait of Mao, as he looks old and tired. I would have hung a portrait of him as a younger man.
As I wandered the square in the daytime, I did begin to see a very strange beauty to the authoritarian plaza. The atmosphere in the morning felt a tad more relaxed and less nationalist than after the evening ceremony. Of course, little kids are still cheerfully saluting Mao’s portrait.
I saw a kid in a Tigger shirt, which kind of surprised me, as all references to Winnie-the-Pooh (the character) are banned in China, at least online, since web users used the bear as an indirect way to mock Chinese president Xi Jinping.
On the subway, the stupid and unnecessary security confiscated a kid’s balloon animal. I was glad that they were protecting my safety, you never know if those animals have rabies.
In the afternoon, I went to check out the Bird’s Nest, the famous Olympic stadium built for the celebrated 2008 games and also used for the less memorable 2022 games. I think the 2008 Olympics were the peak of China’s international reputation in recent years, before President Xi’s aggressive foreign policy and repressive domestic policies made the country less popular. I was 7 at the time, but still remember the games and the fanfare about China’s ‘emergence.’ The stadium is an architectural and artistic marvel, really demonstrating to the world what China was capable of, but has struggled to find uses since the games. I only saw the outside, as it was closed when I arrived and tickets were too expensive, but walking around the Olympic Park was still worthwhile.
My overall impression of Beijing is fairly positive. The subway system is really good and efficient, with the exception of the dumb security theatre required to enter each station. Before going through the gate, you have to walk through a metal detector and send your bag through an x-ray. At least there is almost never a line for this, unlike similar requirements for subwaying in India. It is truly useless, as after your phone sets off the metal detector, the security guard will lazily wave her metal detector at you and send you on your way. The only delay at this stage is if you have a water bottle, in which case they have a special wand to check it (to see if it’s alcohol? I’m not sure).
Sorry, I was supposed to be writing about Beijing. The subway system is good, and the trains come even more frequently than scheduled (if it says a train is coming in five minutes, it’s probably coming in three). There seems to be a good mix of housing. It’s relatively walkable for an Asian metropolis. Often, in lieu of lights, there will be a crosswalk, but cars typically respect your right of way (something that doesn’t exist in Korea). Trash cans and recycling bins are everywhere (they’re very rare in Korea), although the garbage can symbol was confusing to me at first.
The city generally functions pretty smoothly. That said, it does not have the spontaneity and random interesting things that the very best cities in the world, like Tokyo and New York, or even Seoul or Bangkok, have. In short, despite its historical and present-day significance, it’s not quite as fun as other cities.
I would say the one aspect of Beijing that mildly disappointed me was the food. It can be difficult to find good food in Beijing. That’s not to say there is no good food in Beijing, it can just be difficult to locate. In most peer Asian cities, there are restaurants, food stalls, and street food everywhere, but in Beijing, that’s not the case. Street food and food stalls exist, but they are rare. Local restaurants are plentiful in some areas, but in business districts there are mostly corporate chains. To make finding food even harder, the apps I had available to search for food were either inconsistent or difficult without Chinese language skills. So instead of sampling the best the city had to offer, I often just settled for what was convenient, possibly meaning a mall option or a convenience store.
I did put effort into finding the city’s signature dishes in my last couple days. I tried jianbing, a sort of breakfast crepe stuffed with egg, vegetables, and a cracker (and didn’t like it at all). I located a doornail meat pie, a type of filled pastry, that was pretty good. I had a rolling donkey, a type of rice dessert roll (no donkey meat) that I wouldn’t recommend.
Most importantly, I ate Peking duck, the city’s most famous delicacy (Beijing used to be Anglicized as Peking). The dish has been popular since the Yuan dynasty (1271–1368) I found a restaurant that was not too expensive and let me order half a duck. The duck is roasted, and then brought out by the chef on a cart to be carved in front of the customer. Only a small portion of the duck is actually used in the meal, though, and I can’t be certain what happens to the rest. After the duck is carved, it is laid out with some vegetables, sauces, and wraps to be assembled by the diner. Also included was a huge pot of soup (I had three bowls but that was still only a small bit of it) and a dessert I can’t describe.
I thought the duck was very tasty, and I do understand why it’s considered such a delicacy. However, I really struggled to assemble the wraps using just chopsticks. I think my chopstick skills are mostly fine, despite my unorthodox technique and constant battle with cherry tomatoes. But rolling and eating a wrap using chopsticks is very difficult, which made the experience a tiny bit frustrating despite the good duck.
I also don’t mean to be dismissive to Beijing food. I did have two other memorable meals. One was a perfect baozi bun that I got from a popular food stand near my hostel, and the other was a simple but delicious flatbread and meat dish from a restaurant called Beijing Pie.
The act of ordering food has been very difficult, though. While in most countries where I don’t speak the language I can use ‘The Pointing Method’ to order, in China, the menus often are above the vendors’ heads, so they can’t see where you’re pointing. Instead, I’ve used a mix of my very poor Chinese pronunciation, Baidu app translations, and the vendor coming out from behind the counter to see where I’m pointing.
Anyways, after the Peking duck, I went to the train station to catch my overnight train to Xi’an. In the train station, and for some attractions in China, there are no tickets; instead, your ID document is your ticket. For Chinese nationals who have national ID cards, this is convenient (but also arguably creepy that the overbearing government has all your information in one place). For foreigners like me, this is inconvenient, as instead of scanning my ID card, I have to get station security to manually let me in.
I was able to get on my train in time. Actually, I was early, but I felt late because Chinese people seem to show up very early for trains. I was travelling second-class, which meant that six bunks were crammed into the small compartment, but I have no complaints. I even got a good night’s sleep.
To be continued…
