Last Day in China

I booked a round-the-world ticket, but the travel agent convinced me to pay extra for a return flight.

Beijing is an amazing city of beauty and wonder and mystery. China in itself as a majestic place at its best but filled with horrible things we do not see. There's another side I'd like to experience if I ever do go here permanently, for a job. From this point on I decided I'd love to work in China, so I could experience all its diversity - from the tropical south; the coastal cities of the east; the icy wastes of the north and the deserts of the west: China is a place of diversity, of which I got to experience so little. Returning to New Zealand, I set about finding a teaching job with Chinese institutions, but not feeling comfortable with coming in again illegally, I decided to hold this plan off until the day I graduate.

It was sad to say goodbye to the friends we had made. We had formed such a bond with China and its culture. The streets and locations brimmed with so much life that they seemed to be living things themselves. With sadness we gave a final 再見,中国! before boarding the plane, waving goodbye through the window at the awesomeness beyond.

To Chengdu?

The last day in Beijing was curious. We paid one more visit around the streets, buying some strange edible lily for the road - inside the pods were these green nuts that tasted like avocado. This vendor was offering bone-like carvings that were made up on the spot. I wasn't able to get a copy of my Koru cut from them. We had one final next-to-nothing meal before heading to Nanyuan airport to check in for our flight to Chengdu. There was a tropical rainstorm taking place, so there were plenty of delays taking place, so we spent most of our time outside. Despite the rainstorm, it was pleasantly warm outside. In the end, it seemed that the plane was not going to arrive, but Suzanne managed to convince them to somehow get a hotel for us - apparently this is aviation policy but none of the other people there seemed to be getting hotels. They even drove us there, but when we arrived in the room, it was flooded. We got shifted to a different room, and managed to get to sleep quickly, hoping there would be a plane available tomorrow.

Indeed there was, and we took the first available flight the Sichuan via the budget airline China United - a flight of which I was certain I would die on. For one thing, the plane seemed to be going incredibly high - far higher in the air than the Singapore or China Southern airlines previously, and the movements of the plane seemed much more erratic. This flappy bits of the wing (11) would seem to randomly open up - which the previous airlines didn't. There seemed to be all sorts of odd noises coming through the plane, most ominously this loud creaking and crackling noise. The audio announcements weren't translated effectively, so instead of hearing that the plane 'is experiencing turbulence', we were told that the plane 'is becoming unstable'. I don't know about you, I can handle a turbulent flight, but not an 'unstable' one. But luckily we managed to arrive in Chengdu in one piece, and we had lunch. I noticed that everyone was looking at my slippers now, so I thought it was finally time to take them off and become a normal member of society again. We took a super-cheap bus to the city central, and dropped off our items at Henry's International Youth Hostel - which was a much more conventional, modern hotel, but the manager, Jimmy, made it a fun experience. The hotel isn't managed by the eponymous Henry - who is just a baby, and will one day inherit the hotel named after him. 

Chengdu's feel was immediately different to that of Beijing. It certainly felt more modern, but still very Chinese. As we headed for a place to get some famous spicy Sichuan food, we walked by a group of children learning the cha-cha - dance is popular in this province of China. As people walked by, many observed them and joined in. Even I was tempted to join, but a full grown white male foreigner doing the cha-cha with a bunch of little Chinese girls would seem a bit odd. Eventually we set sights on an outdoor restaurant, where I got to practice my bartering skills. Apparently I got a 120 yuan meal for 100 yuan, but 120 would be the standard offer for foreigners who are naive enough to think they are getting a good deal. Native Chinese speakers probably got it for about 50. Be that as it may, the family was disappointed that I spend so much money on a meal, despite the difficulty I had with the haggling. It wasn't until the food arrived, and we realised we were eating some truly excellent food - plenty of spices and vegetables, fresh shrimp and beans. It hit the spot after days of Beijing food, which was often cheap, overly cooked or long preserved. I don't think I was overcharged - (22 NZ dollars feeding three people is most certainly a bargain in New Zealand) but even if I was, I don't mind. Suzanne always said 'you don't just pay for the product, you pay for the experience'. Even if the product turned out to be poor quality, worthless or overpriced, you'll still learn or remember something from it. Sometimes, simply buying the item can be an interesting experience - and in China, it often is. Buying my first souvenir in Beijing, it was a fan for 5 times the price of what it would cost in NZ, but the retailers, and the neighbouring retailers were practically pulling my arm, urging me to by everything they had. I can hardly imagine a shopkeeper physically forcing me back into his shop in order to continue buying. It was a worthwhile experience. So was my first dinner in Chengdu - the haggle with the purveyor was long and brutal, and after the meal, we came to the conclusion that these people were certainly members of the Chinese mafia, or some sort of gang in China. For one thing they had the aura of a gang - the restaurant seemed to be run not just by a group of workers, but a whole bunch of friends who seemed to always hang around. The had the appearance of gangsters - clad with tattoos, which is apparently unusual in China for non-gang members. Regardless, if they were as I assumed them to be, I can say I haggled with the Chinese Mafia. Maybe that's just wishful thinking.

Tiananmen and the Forbidden City

We had tried multiple times to explore Tiananmen, leaving this usually for night. We figured we'd pay a visit in our last full day in Beijing, during which time we would visit the Forbidden City, another obvious tourist spot. Along with our Aussie travel buddy, Ben, we started with the usually high-energy Beijing breakfast outdoors, which is a bowl of sweet warm soy milk with dumplings. The soy flavours were extremely powerful, like sour porridge, but there is something very moreish about it. Pardon me, I'm just having to get my iMac to 'learn' the word 'moreish'. Traveling around Beijing on this sunny day was a brilliant chance for some photos. Children, flags, bikes statues and of course, the city.

We were wondering if it was worth popping by and visiting Mao Zedong's mausoleum, but we turned away when we saw there was a bit of a line (11). The line is like that always, so we figured that people from all over China flock to Beijing to visit the body of Mao. Seeing the line and feeling the heat, we figured we'd best leave it for people who genuinely wanted to pay their respects, rather than us, who were just a group of tourists. However, we did end up in something of a line (17) when we crossed the road through the underpass. For those who don't know, another factor that adds to Beijing's labyrinthine quality is its underpasses. The roads are so huge, and traffic control is already such an issue, that underground tunnels are built so that people may get across. If you see the picture, you'll understand why it's easier than getting people to cross the street. However, at least we'd be getting fresh air (relatively fresh, this is Beijing after all). Every inch of the tunnel was crammed with people, and we were moving along at a snail's pace. The heat was building up, and everyone was sweating profusely. Children were panicking and crying. A toddler next to me was crying in a clearly stressed manner, so I took my traveller's map and waved it against his face, which almost instantly calmed him down. A little cool air is all he needed. The Mum was grateful, so I let her have the brochure so she could continue waving it against him. Funnily enough, out of all the amazing experiences I had in China, getting stuck in that stifling hot, overcrowded tunnel and cooling down that stressed child, was one of the most memorable. All the tourist sites and interesting people in the world can't replace a moment like that.

We went to the Forbidden City by foot, taking an alternative route from other people so as to not get swamped along the way. When we first got to the city, we were greeted by a tourist guide, 'just call me' Tim. He chased us down like a smooth car salesman on a naive immigrant, offering us a deal to 'show us around' the city. Many tourists, I think, would turn down the offer, thinking that either a tour guide is just not a very necessary use of 200 yuan, or that Tim was just another one of the many, many Chinese finding ways to make money of tourists. I was feeling the same way, until Suzanne convinced us otherwise - that hiring the tour guide was a good idea. It wasn't until halfway into it that I truly realised how important a tour guide is. For one thing, you may think you can self study everything you see and experience, but you don't truly know what you're looking at without a guide. You can look at any piece of artwork, architecture or anything, and they'll tell you so many facts, some random trivia, others essential knowledge to your experience. In fact, if you visit without being informed of this information, you may later learn of such things on the internet, and wish that you could go back and experience it again, armed with this newfound information. You may think you can appreciate things without a guide, but you don't really know what you are looking at without one. Secondly, a guide shouldn't just be seen as a 'guide' - they can be seen as a companion, an extra travel buddy, or a friend. They are someone you can talk to, laugh with, enjoy your company with just as much as (sometimes even more than, depending on the scenario) your actual travel partners. Thirdly, there is the term 'experientialism.' (another word for you, iMac) - it's good to spend your money on things that give you experiences, not just souvenirs and food. 200 yuan could buy me a few flashy pieces of clothing and some dinners, or it could get me a trip on the Great Wall toboggan or a tour guide to make your trip a whole lot more interesting. Overall, a tour guide will make your visit a much richer, interesting and fun experience, so it's always worth it. And you'll feel extra good knowing if it's his only source of income, and he's constantly out there breaking his back looking for prospective customers. It's difficult not to appreciate his work, and admire the effort he put into it.

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