Cloudy in Beijing Blogging about my time in China

Pingyao

Earlier this week I traveled to Pingyao, which is located in central China. What's special about this place is that it's one of the most well preserved medieval towns in the country. A lot of what you see there looks the way it did hundreds of years ago during the Ming and Qing dynasties (1368 to 1911). Travel writers have described being in the town as if you went back in time.

One of the defining features of Pingyao is the still existing city wall surrounding it. It's around 40 feet high and tourists are allowed to walk on it.

Although the wall doesn't exactly have any enemies to defend against, it does seem to act as barrier between the ancient architecture of Pingyao and the modern China outside.

Very few cars are allowed in the city. And hardly any building within the town is over three stories high. Most are just one level.  There are no streetlights either, just strings of red lanterns that line between the buildings.

When you are shopping or dining here, you also get the treat of visiting many of these historical buildings.

The hotel I stayed at was located in a traditional courtyard home. The manager says the place is several hundred years old.

To get around, I had to take one of these. Basically it's Pingyao's version of a taxi.

It felt like I was riding a lawnmower. I think the top speed was about 25 mph.

Pingyao has quite a few stray dogs running around. But I was surprised to find a few stray roosters clucking about. Relatively speaking, this Chinese town is small, around 490,000 people. On the outskirts, you can find many farms.

Here is some cheap food I bought with a pair of fellow students at my university. The honeycomb of dumplings, a specialty found in Pingyao, was the tastiest.

Even as Pingyao likes to live in the past, this town is very much a place of tourism. Most of the shops on the major streets here sell souvenirs. At the same time, all the restaurants display the same English labeled menu outside their doors. Local people here keep an eye out for foreigners, incessantly asking them if they need a tour guide or a driver to get around.

As annoying as it is to be bothered, the tourism is good for the local economy. One driver told me that before he was doing this he used to be a farmer. Back then he made close to around $500 to $600 for the entire year. As tourism developed in Pingyao, he changed professions.

Pingyao looks its best at night, when all the red lanterns are on.

The funny thing is that when I first arrived in Pingyao, it happened to be 5:30 a.m. By then nearly all the lights in the town had been turned off. The town seemed to almost literally disappear.

I will stab you

While traveling this past week, I tried to wield this spear. It was pretty heavy and nearly as tall as myself. Back in the day, bodyguards would escort transported goods while carrying these as their weapons. One can imagine a past, where people carried a weapon to work everyday. A society full of badasses.

Former enemies

About an hour drive away from Beijing is the National Aviation Museum, where China's military heroism is out in full display.

Pictured above is a Chinese F-7 fighter jet，which went into service for the People's Liberation Army during the mid to late 60's. Proudly written on a nearby display reads: "The PLA Air Force pilots once shot down 4 U.S. pilotless reconnaissance aircraft driving this kind of fighter."

A few other Chinese planes at the museum also had the noteworthy distinction of having taken down a few American aircraft.

I visited the museum the other day with my aunt and her family. Me being a Chinese-American, my aunt made an observation upon seeing the aircraft from the Korean War: "Back in those days, I would have been the enemy," she said.

Things have changed for the better. But it's not exactly like relations between China and America are rosy or anything. Rift Grows as U.S. and China Seek Differing Goals reads one of the headlines in today's edition of The New York Times.

I'm guessing relations will be just as tense, if not more in the future as the U.S. has to contend with an emerging China. I just hope any sort of military hostility between the two countries will remain something of the past.

Donkeys and dogs

Before today, I didn't even know people ate donkeys. But in China they do.

According to the Jiangli Donkey Meat Restaurant in Beijing, it's supposed to be quite healthy for you. A pamphlet reads:

"Donkey meat is a tonic food and healthy for people's liver and kidney. As a moderate and nutritious meat it is ideal to be used in food therapy..."

Later it adds that donkey skin and penis are also quite good for you too.

I had some of their donkey meat with my granduncle and his family.  It was alright, very beef-like in texture and taste. I even had some donkey ear and donkey intestine too. Those weren't quite as palatable, but at least they went down.

As for my granduncle, he really enjoyed the food. But out of all the meats he's had, donkey meat doesn't rank as the best.

"Donkey meat is really good," he said. "But dog meat is even better."

As we ate a plate of donkey meat dumplings, my granduncle couldn't help but add, "These dumplings are great. I just wish I could eat some dog meat dumplings."

I said that I hadn't had dog meat before. Naturally at our next meal, dog meat was available.

I haven't been much interested in having a taste of dog meat; it seems a tad wrong to be eating man's best friend. But I tried it anyways. Frankly, I couldn't really tell any difference between the meats. If you lumped donkey and dog meat all together, I would get confused as to which was which. It all tastes like beef to me, although maybe dog meat is a little harder to chew through.

My granduncle was quite happy with the dog meat we had to eat. But, apparently there is one kind of meat that can even top dog.

"Have you had cat meat?" he asked. "That cat meat is even better than dog meat."

Family history

My granduncle, a 75 year-old man, sat next to me in the car as we traveled to the  outskirts of Beijing for a a family outing. On the way there, he showed me an old scar.

"Look at this," he said, pulling back the hair over his left temple. Hiding in the strands was a white line etched on his skin. "I got this during the war."

He was about three year old then when the Japanese had invaded China in 1937. During a bombing raid, my granduncle hid in a building, with my grandfather holding him. Broken glass shards fell from the ceiling, cutting my granduncle's head.

"We then ran away, but I was bleeding all over the place," he said. "I didn't even know about this until your grandfather told me about it later."

---

My grandfather was the eldest son in his family. He had five other siblings, with my granduncle included. When the Japanese had invaded China he was only 15 years old.

As the war broke out, my grandfather and siblings left his hometown of Taiyuan, traveling to the west and crossing the Yellow River, where they thought it would be safe. But in fleeing, they were separated from their father who had stayed behind to work with the Chinese government.

Eventually word reached that their father was ill. They then traveled for seven days to meet him in a neighboring county. They had hoped to be reunited as family. But upon arriving, my grandfather had found that his father was already buried dead. He was about 16 when this happened.

"Your grandfather suffered many hardships," my granduncle said. "He was so young and had to be responsible for the family and take care of all five of his siblings."

After the war, my grandfather had gone to work for the Chinese Nationalist Party. This put him at odds with China's Communist Party as both groups went to war with each other in an effort to take over the country.

With the Nationalist forces losing its hold on the mainland, a retreat was made into Taiwan by 1949. My grandfather went with, hoping his family would meet him on the island. But instead, my grandfather found himself alone.

"Originally, we were supposed to go to Taiwan too," my granduncle recalled. "The rest of the family had traveled to Shanghai. But when we got there, no plane tickets were being sold. We couldn't even buy a boat ticket."

Contact between my grandfather and his family eventually ceased as the world entered into the Cold War. A new Communist China would arise while Taiwan remained independent, the island protected by a fleet of U.S. Navy ships.

As a consequence, the family was separated once again. From 1951 to 1982, my granduncle heard nothing from him. "We didn't even know if your grandfather was alive," he said.

Not until China began reopening itself to the world, did my grandfather have a chance to talk and meet with his family on the mainland again.

He had always wanted to live out the remainder of his life on the mainland, my granduncle said. My grandfather had even already bought a home in the Chinese city of Suzhou.

Still, not even in the twilight of his age could my grandfather get a fair shake out of life. An accident in 2004 had left my grandfather confined into a wheelchair. In the following years, he would suffer from bouts of pneumonia.

My grandfather is now 87 years old and still lives in Taiwan. He will likely have to remain there for the rest of his life.

---

After telling me all this, my granduncle then turned to the subject of my life. He did so rather passionately.

"It's time for the Kan family to rise up again," he started. "You are the oldest Kan among your cousins. You have to take responsibility now."

I nodded my head, pretending I understood. In reality, I had no idea what he was talking about. My granduncle could probably tell, seeing the blank expression on my face. So he explained.

My grandfather had lived a difficult life, and so did his father before him, dying at the age of 45 from sickness while trying to escape the Japanese invasion. Past generations of the Kan family have experienced many struggles. But now was the time to essentially restore the family prestige.

He then saw fit to make a parallel: as China the nation rises to prosperity, the Kan family must as well too.

Oh Lord, I had thought to myself. Seriously?

I had traveled to China with no such ambitious goal in mind; I had just wanted to learn Chinese, be a journalist and have some new experiences. But now my granduncle had put things in a different perspective. Apparently, I have to lead the Kan family to glory.

In that moment, I could feel the weight of past generations of Kan family history fall on me. Old historical wounds shown right up at me.

My stomach felt sick.

Maybe we should change the subject, I thought to myself.

---

My grandfather is the tall teenager pictured above. My granduncle is the little guy standing in the bottom right.

Chinese New Year

I spent Chinese New Year with my aunt and her family in Beijing this past weekend. As it came close to midnight on Saturday, we made Chinese dumplings, also known as jiao zi.

I made these myself. They're a little ugly.

Jiao zi are made during the Chinese New Year to symbolize money and prosperity; one of China's earliest forms of currency was called jiao zi. So by eating these dumplings, you're in a sense eating money.

Considering my current salary, I should of ate more. But beforehand, we had already had a large dinner, filled with dishes of all kind.

These golden nuggets are called wotou, basically Chinese cornbread. My aunt said I had to eat one because the Chinese emperors used to eat them.

By midnight, Beijing had turned into a war zone, explosions of fireworks erupting across the city. Riding my bicycle back to my apartment, I could see that the streets were covered in red, piles of festive debris littering the pavement. A passing police car didn't mind the mess.

Along with firecrackers, red lanterns play an important role during the Chinese New Year.

Legend has it that these lanterns are displayed because of an ancient beast that would attack during the Chinese New Year. One day it was discovered that the beast was afraid of the color red and loud noises. So from then on, whenever the New Year came, red lanterns and firecrackers would be used to ward off the beast.

Yesterday I went to Beijing's Temple of Earth, where quite a few red lantern ornaments were displayed. But there were also quite a few other things going, some of it a little less traditional.

Beijing's Temple of Earth holds one of the city's largest temple fairs in commemoration of the Chinese New Year. To celebrate, the 380-year-old temple was turned into a carnival of sorts. Denizens could come and win a stuffed animal at the different games offered.  Bugs Bunny was also present and available for pictures.

Even the sacrificial altar had been turned into a platform for karaoke.

Chinese New Year is also known as Spring Festival. Usually people get about a week off. But traditionally the festivities will go on for 15 days. As I write this, I hear the bang of fireworks off in the distance. It never stops.

New and old

From this angle, Beijing's National Centre for the Performing Arts looks a lot like a flying saucer. The actual building, however, is the egg-shaped dome in the center. Surrounding it is an artificial lake.

It's one of the newest buildings in the city and opened to the public in December 2007. Reportedly, the building cost around $460 million dollar to construct it. The place can seat about 5,452 people. Do the math and that's about $84,000 to make each seat.

Shows of all kinds go on all year.  Swan Lake will be performed next week. The building also holds art exhibitions.

Still you have to pay about $4 dollars to walk around inside. Probably a way to recoup the costs.

In terms of it architecture, there's nothing very Chinese about it. The man behind the building's design was French architect Paul Andreu, who's known for his work on several international airports. Now I think I know why he included this giant window ceiling.

Things aren't all that sleek-looking everywhere in Beijing. A 5-minute bike ride from apartment is an older neighborhood. One of my classmates calls it "the village" and I have to admit, going there feels like entering a time warp.

Blocks of gray concrete form the backdrop. And all the buildings look rundown. People dump their used water in the streets. Unleashed dogs scamper around. There's a lot of mud lying about. Definitely a few plants and trees could be used here.

Whenever I come by, I feel a bit lost. The alleyways can be  like a maze. Once while riding my bike, I also almost crashed into some clothes that was hung out to dry.

Still, somehow cars can squeeze their way into these narrow alleyways. They mainly do so by honking and yelling at you.

They sell lots of things on the streets here, some of which I'm not totally sure if you can buy. The other day, someone flung out some meat and hanged three slabs across a string on the sidewalk.  I wasn't sure if someone was selling it, or if it was trash. I'm not even sure why there was furniture hanging outside on the streets. I didn't see too many customers wanting to buy a snow covered couch.

I'm not sure what to think of this place. Some might call it an eyesore, others would say its home. But one of the best things about this neighborhood is the food. The Kung Pao in the restaurants here is damn good. I keep coming back for more.

Wedding

My aunt invited me to a wedding in Beijing this past weekend. I didn't know the young couple, or really anyone there. But it was a chance to see a Chinese wedding, so I decided to attend.

As you can tell, the room the wedding was held in was quite red. In China, the color symbolizes joy and is central to any Chinese wedding. (As for the color white, it traditionally symbolizes death in China).

Though my experience is very limited, I'd have to say that Chinese weddings are a lot more like banquets. This one was held in the restaurant of a hotel. For much of the time we sat at our tables while the ceremonies commenced. I watched as I ate some snacks.

To officiate the wedding, an announcer was present, equipped with his own microphone . He acted as if he were both priest and comedian, asking the couple to exchange vows, while also commenting about how much sweat was covering the groom's face.

Along with the food available at our tables, free cigarettes were also offered. This despite a sign in the restaurant saying smoking was banned.

I also thought that the dress code was going to be me more formal. But I must have been the only guest wearing a tie. All the while cigarette smoke fumed over a couple of the tables.

In some ways, the ceremony felt very similar to how weddings are held back in America. The bride was dressed in a white gown, and the groom was in a black suit. Even "Hey Jude" played at one point during the ceremony.

I asked my aunt about what she thought of the wedding. She commented that when she got married, the guests bought her gifts, which she could use on a daily basis; she remembers one person buying her a wok. But now at a lot of weddings, people will give the newly wed couple money in the form of cash tucked in a red envelope. "People's expenditures are much higher now," she added.

It was a good event. I got a bunch of free food. And everyone was happy. Yay!