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Yesterday morning Catherine let me go off and take pictures in the local hutong while she chose where what we would do for the day. For one hour, and one hour only, Catherine made sure to set a limit otherwise I would have been out there all day and probably would’ve completely forgotted about her. Apparently I can putz, or so I’m told, and that I am occasionally distractable.

 

Crossing the streets in Beijing is much lake playing the the 80’s arcade game Frogger except there are no do-overs if a bus runs you over. It gets the adrenaline pumping and I’ve found the key is to look for the old women and follow them when they cross the street, I can usually keep up with them, but not always.

 

The hutongs are great because you are in a neighborhood and no one is trying to sell you anything, nothing has been “touristed” to death. It really is a glimpse into the daily routine of another culture.

 

After taking this picture of the fresh bakery making fresh sesame rolls, I had to buy one. Price ? 1 yuan. And as with most things on this trip. It was tasty. While the brooms and mops may look primitive, everywhere I went yesterday was sparkling clean and it is taken very seriously because outside of every shop and house mops and cleaning rags were drying in the cold sunshine.

 

When I got back to the hotel Catherine had decided we were going the art museum and then going on a long walk to the Yong He Gong temple or Lamasery. We walked about 5 kilometers and had a great time seeing daily life without seeing any tourist sites.

 

I thought this was a nice moment and it made me thnk of Lili and what she’d be like when she was older.

The temple is extraordinary and should be part of everyone’s visit. It escaped the chaos and destruction of the cultural revolution. So many things to describe but one of my favorites was the esoteric buddhas, that’s the blue statue and not the monks taking pictures.

 After a great lunch at a vegetarian place we happened upon this frozen lake.

The joy of everyone on the lake was contagious and we had such fun walking around seeing the families. It was a great memory. And now we are off to the Great wall. More pictures will follow, (I know you’re surprised by the prospect of more photos).

We finally arrived in Beijing. Clearing customs, getting cash and getting a taxi couldn’t have been easier. Total travel time was 30 hours door-to-door. The taxi ride from the airport cost less than the two beers we had in the hotel bar in order to wind down from our little jaunt. It worked for Catherine, but not for me. So I decided to go for a walk at 12:30 in the morning in a strange city where I speak about 15 words of the local language, and 2/3 of those are numbers.

Random thoughts and statistics while walking the streets of the local hutong after midnight.

Number of public restrooms seen within 10 minutes of each other – 5 before I stopped counting

Number of Snow White Persian alley cats roaming the alleys – 3 and how they stayed so white with all the dust is beyond me.

Number of Graffito – 0, despite long stretches of white/gray blemish free walls.

Number of Bicycles – hundreds in every configuration imaginable – three wheelers, six wheelers, new mountain bikes, old reliable flying pigeons uniformly gray.

Price of liter of water – 5 Yuan (about 65 cents)
Price of 20oz beer – 3 Yuan (about 39 cents)

The Hutongs, which technically means alley or lane but also refer to a neighborhood are amazing complexes some of which date as far back as the Yuan (1206-1341), Ming (1368-1628) and Qing (1644-1908) dynasties. In some ways they remind me of Venice’s streets and alleys without the dead ends and water. Many of these older buildings and neighborhoods are being torn down to make way for new high-rises and as part of the massive infrastructure build-out in preparation for the 2008 Olympics. While the Hutongs may look romantic, many residents feel no such sentimentality and look forward to being relocated to a high-rise with modern amenities. Others of course lament the loss of community and history. I’m just a voyeur peering into their lives for a few moments, what do I know?

Beijing seems to be a city that is relatively dark at least compared to Manhattan.  I could see stars and although there are plenty of streetlights there doesn’t appear to be the endless security lights, outdoor lights, etc that make walking in Manhattan a permanent twilight. Some of the alley’s I chose not to walk down were pitch black, as dark as walking from Mathew to Luke at Camp Chanco without a flashlight. I realize it’s a reference most of you won’t get, but for those few who do, it’ll be worth it. Lots of people were up at this time of night, there were several restaurants that meet the standard for a good Chinese restaurant – hot and crowded. I didn’t venture into any of them this time since I’m still fairly full from the endless meals on the planes. But I plan to try at least one or two of the establishments that looked promising.
I also got propositioned for massages by a several nice young women who didn’t want to take no for answer I finally had to resort to my pidgin Chinese declaring over and over – Bu Yao and Bu Hao (don’t want and not good) – and this was on the main road near the motel. Strangely enough, once I went into the alleys I was left alone. -t
 
A + 2 days; L – 3 days;