Bei Watch

With a few days of downtime before having to head to Shanghai, last weekend I decided to leave the rustic charms of the desert wasteland behind in favor of a few days in Beijing. So, after packing up my bags and double-checking that I didn’t leave anything behind – only to remember that I’d already forgotten pretty much everything I’d be worried about leaving in Vancouver and LA – I headed out early Friday morning for the trek into the city proper. It was a trek of about an hour and a half that took me through a Fog Storm (actually just a lot of fog but it sounds like the title of a movie you’d see on basic cable at about 3AM, no?), past the construction sites of the stadiums for next summer’s Olympics and into the heart of the city, where I arrived at the new Silk Market.

According to my guide book – which is so infallible I’m considering making it a little pope hat – the old Silk Market was a ramshackle collection of thrown-together huts, stands and shops that traded in everything from bolts of fabric to bolts of…um…lightning. Okay, so I’m paraphrasing and prone to hyperbole but you get the idea. Anywise, a few years back, the powers that be decreed that the whole charming, historically significant landmark was a firetrap and bulldozed it in favor of a five-story warehouse filled with all things fake. We’re talking fake everything – handbags, sunglasses, electronics…I wouldn’t have been surprised if half the vendors were fake, too. You know – like midgets stacked on one another’s shoulders and wearing a raincoat. That kind of thing.

While the vendors were easily the most tenacious retailers I’ve encountered in my life, they sure were easy with the flattery. They kept telling me what a great bargainer I was, right up until my intrepid translator Donald found out what I’d spent on two new bags. As it turns out, the Chinese phrase for “Idiot westerner! No wonder your country will soon be ours!” sounds a lot like a cross between a hearty laugh and a scoff of disbelief. My wasted hours of watching “Deal Or No Deal” aside, I was interested to discover that some of the merchants had as much interest in bargaining as I did skill. Checking out PS3 games that were on sale at a few of the stands, I tried to meet the vendors halfway and got the same blank look you’d expect if you went into Target and said, “Four bucks for shampoo? No. Screw that. Seventeen cents.”

Escaping the market, I ordered up a traditional roast duck with all the fixin’s for Donald – pictured at left – his sister/cousin Julie (not as scandalous as it sounds, I assure you) and our driver, who’s best described as the Chinese James Earl Jones. While we missed out on hairy crab, a delicacy that’s in season, we did wind up with a healthy portion of hairy soup. It was nice of them to strike it off our bill, but I wish I knew how much longer I’ll be dealing with these hairballs.

While the lunch dishes lacking human hair were pretty good, nothing compared to dinner. A group of us – including my boss Bob and his brother Charley – hit up a restaurant in the Red Lantern district, decimating its supply of Mao Tai. If you’ve never had any, it’s just like a Mai Tai only everyone gets an equal portion, drinks together and then gets grilled by the House Committee on Un-American Activities. To give it a try, just fill a glass with one part vodka and three parts nail polish remover, down it, then punch yourself in the face.

Miraculously emerging relatively unscathed, I headed for the Forbidden City with Bob and Charley the next morning. The place was incredible, boasting both a Palace of Supreme Harmony and a Palace of Medium Harmony (why anyone would bother going to the latter remains a mystery.) My favorite part of the city was its rooftops, which featured little sculptures of mythical creatures standing in a line at each corner. While I’m sure there’s a deeper meaning, I love the idea of monsters on parade.

Abstaining from the Palace of Abstinence, we took a quick walk across the street in hopes of getting in touch with our political sides in Tiananmen Square. It was definitely an experience to stand under the watchful gaze of an enormous Mao painting in a venue so steeped in history, although the commercialization of the entire place was a little shocking. Cheap Chinese military gear was on sale near the entrance – all that was missing was a guy offering to take your picture with a toy tank. Then again, he might have just been out sick.

Following up our daily dose of history with a brisk walk, we took a detour through what Charley referred to as “The Street Of All Things On A Stick”. While the antique medium format camera I bought there had somehow managed to avoid getting speared, the deep fried scorpions we shared weren’t so lucky. I’m pretty sure that these little guys won’t be served stateside anytime soon, but I will say that if I’m ever surrounded by scorpions and have nothing but a deep frier to defend myself, I’ll be making it out of there alive.

It was more than a little difficult to say goodbye to Beijing this morning – especially since I could happily live the rest of my life in the hotel room I had there – but Shanghai definitely has its plusses.  One of the big ones is the set where I’m writing this post: a period replica of the city that stretches for entire square blocks of 1940’s art deco beauty. It’s like some fantastic cross between the theme park atmosphere of Main Street USA, the technicolor neon of downtown Tokyo and the unspoiled elegance of a bygone era.

Next up…The Scorpion Kings!