Week Ten: Beijing

A few years ago, I learned about the importance of skepticism in a journalism class with Andy Dehnart. On an ordinary afternoon in his classroom, he handed out a piece of paper which is still tucked safely away amidst the papers and articles that I've deemed to be worth holding on to. It said:

"Skepticism is a weapon. It deflects spin, propaganda, P.R., B.S., press agents, publicity seekers, hearsay, unnamed sources, and anyone with a hidden agenda. Skepticism is that little voice that tells you you'll never be a millionaire with little or no money down. Skepticism is that sneaking suspicion that all aspirin are alike. Skepticism is a quality shared by truth seekers, freethinkers, and realists. Skepticism demands proof and facts be unsanitized, uncensored, and unembellished. Skepticism makes the world accountable. Skepticism is a virtue."

I hadn't really consciously thought about that quote since I've been here in Hong Kong, until I sat down to write this post about my experience in Beijing. Amidst the grandeur of a city that boasts visual reminders of the extraordinary potential of human achievement, I found myself face-to-face with reminders of why skepticism is important.

Upon arriving in Beijing and checking into our hostel (the Beijing Heyuan International Youth Hostel, which I would highly recommend to anyone who appreciates a warm bed, friendly service, and a safe, affordable place to stay), my friend Lauren and I set out to meet with our friends who had already arrived in the city the day before. We decided to meet at the Olympic Green, where the 2008 Olympics took place. Despite the cold weather and mild rain, we navigated our way through the subway system, excited to be reunited with our traveling companions. When we arrived at our stop and left the station, though, we were confronted with a bit of a dilemma on how to find everyone. After about 20 minutes of wandering around, we were told to "look for the McDonalds by the big blue building." Of course, looking back now, it's funny that the only way we could find each other was to meet at one of the most recognizable symbols of Western culture.

We spent the next hour catching up over Big Macs and french fries before taking the obligatory tourist picture in front of the Birds Nest and heading back to our hostel. Our plan for the next morning was to visit the Great Wall, so we turned out the light in our 8-person room that night at a modest hour so that we would all be ready for our first big adventure together.

The morning dawned crisp and bright- autumn had definitely arrived in Beijing. Around 10AM, we set out to find the bus station which would take us to the Great Wall. Unfortunately, this task turned out to be much more frustrating than we could have ever anticipated. Though we were fully aware of how obviously foreign we looked, we weren't prepared for the level of deception we encountered. As we looked for the bus station, we were told by several people, "Oh no, there's no bus to the great wall after 10AM, you'll have to take a private taxi. And even if you could find a bus, it would charge you 50 yuan to get there. Here, I'll take you for 40 each, just get in my van over here..."

This assertion, of course, seemed particularly suspicious considering that (a) the Great Wall is arguably China's most popular tourist attraction, (b) there's absolutely no logic to a public transportation system that stops running after 10AM, and (c) none of the individuals encouraging us to get into their vans had the proper taxi driver identification. Eventually, we found the bus station, but we ended up wasting about 20 minutes in the wrong line (even though we were assured that 'Oh yes, this is the line for the bus to the Wall!') before finally finding the bus we were looking for. When we boarded, though, all of the seats were full; so for the next hour, we stood in the aisle after paying our 12 yuan fare.

Arriving at the Badaling entrance to the Great Wall was something I will always remember. After investing in some gloves from a local vendor, we started our journey of walking along one of the world's most impressive remnants of history. The weather was perfect, the sky was clear and blue, and as we walked, we shed our layers of sweaters to embrace the autumn air. We stopped to take in the scenery in the comfortable silence that only ever happens in the presence of good friends. To put it plainly: the Great Wall is every bit as breathtaking, impressive, and beautiful as it looks in pictures.

By the time we returned from the Great Wall, we were hungry and in desperate need of sustenance, so we stopped at the first restaurant we saw once we left the subway station near our hostel (which happened to be a Pizza Hut- again with the Western culture thing...). Afterward, we headed downtown to explore Beijing's nightlife on Halloween.

Unfortunately, our goal of finding a nice bar where we could relax, take in a drink or two, and just enjoy each other's company turned out to be harder to achieve than we had planned for. The first bar that we tried was absolutely awful. You would think that an establishment that serves alcoholic beverages would know that vodka is generally supposed to be included in a vodka tonic, but I'm fairly certain that only a few drops (at most) made it into my cup. Conversely, though, some of the girls ordered Mai Tais which were completely undrinkable because they had too much alcohol. We all watched our friend Devon sipping from his modest can of Sprite with complete envy.

That little can of Sprite ended up costing more than he'd bargained for, though, as we found out upon our attempt to leave. Those of us who had ordered drinks from the bar paid our tabs (about 40-45 yuan each). The bartender informed Devon that his drink was 40 yuan, to which he (understandably) insisted that there was no way a can of Sprite cost the same as a Mai Tai, and demanded to see a menu. The bartender's response was "Oh, we don't have a menu" (which was untrue) and "Sorry, it's just more expensive today" (which was infuriating, to say the least). After a few minutes of heated debate, the situation diffused. The boys returned to the hostel, and us girls optimistically tried another bar (which served equally unimpressive drinks, though they were at least reasonably priced). As we sat in our booth, we noticed flurries of snow falling outside. Despite the frustration and anger we felt towards the discrimination we experienced in trying to visit the wall and at the other bar, we couldn't contain our laughter.

I woke the next morning to my friend Nicola saying, "Hey, guys? Look outside. It's snowing."

Sure enough, we were present for the first official snowfall of the season, which lasted well into the afternoon. Though we were vastly underprepared for the cold weather, we donned our layers of sweaters and jackets to go see the Temple of Heaven, a cluster of Taoist temples that date back to the Ming and Qing dynasties.

Everyone besides Lauren and I left that afternoon to catch their flights back to Shenzhen, so the two of us spent the rest of the day lounging around the warm, dry hostel. After all, our experience with the 'nightlife' didn't exactly leave us pining for more poorly-made drinks in bad bars, anyway.

During our final day in Beijing, we saw Tian'anmen Square, which was a surreal experience. I remember learning about the 'June 4 incident' (as it's called by the Chinese government, who still purports that only 241 casualties arose from the massacre) in high school, and to see the site where thousands of students and protestors stood up to the military force imposed on them by the government was a visceral moment that I'm not sure how to explain. I stood before the Monument to the People's Heroes, where the protests began; I saw, with my own eyes, the massive Square where hundreds of thousands gathered in the name of democracy.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of tourists and street vendors, I could almost hear the echoes of what happened 20 years before.

By the time we finished walking through Tian'anmen Square and the outer courts of the Forbidden City, Lauren and I had just enough time to go back to the hostel and grab our belongings before departing for the airport to come back to HK.

Landing in Hong Kong felt like coming home, which isn't altogether surprising, considering I've lived here for 2 1/2 months now; nonetheless, it made me think a lot about what 'home' really means to me. I grew up in a Navy family, so until we moved to Florida, I didn't really have a set 'home' because we were moving every year or two. For me, though, coming home is a process that always brings the comfort of returning to what I know as familiar and true. And I guess in that way, coming home to Hong Kong was all of those things in comparison to my visit to Beijing. Sure, the thrill of seeing a new city is rooted in its unfamiliarity; but the layout of the city wasn't what seemed so alien to me.

I was more surprised that in a city which just last year hosted people from all over the world for the Olympics, foreigners are still blatantly discriminated against. I was still shocked that the government placed blocks on so much of the internet- I was able to access my gmail account at the hostel, but not my blog, Twitter, or Facebook accounts (though that shouldn't really surprise me, I suppose, considering that the government doesn't even allow Google to show any reports about what really happened at Tian'anmen Square besides those written by the party's media outlets). Most disappointing, though, was the discovery that even the snow wasn't real. It was chemically induced by the government.

I enjoyed seeing all of the sites in Beijing, but maybe ignorance really is bliss. I was happier when this picture was taken than I am now, knowing that the first snowflake to land on my tongue in over ten years was a product of the government.