Dining out in Beijing

It must naturally follow that a country as diverse in ethnicity, geography and climate as China, would have an equally diverse cuisine. I'm no expert, but it seems that there are about as many types of cuisine as there are subcultures. Among the most popular are Cantonese - which is the most widely known and loved for it's dimsum and stir-frys; Sichuan and Hunan - loved by those who like it hot, the abundance of chili and peppercorns make for fiery dishes; Shanghai - dominated by fresh seafood and usually employs the method of slow-cooking it's meats in stock and wine; and of course, Beijing cuisine whose claim to fame are the hotpot, dumplings and roast duck.

I don't have a favorite from the four types mentioned above, I like them all. And I think we can all agree that Chinese cuisine is one of the finest and most popular in the world. Come to think of it, I haven't been to a country that does not have it's own little Chinatown or at the very least it's pick of Chinese restaurants. While in Beijing, we managed to sample all sorts of regional cooking. All but one lunch was part of our tour package and we were taken to a different restaurant everyday. The menu was always pre-set (see collage above) so we had no control over what we were served which kind of worried me a little. But turned out pretty good and we always had a nice variety of dishes: soup, rice, beef, fish, pork and vegetables.

We had come to expect this every noon time, so we were quite surprised when we walked into an all-you-can-eat Chinese churrascaria. Skewers of every meat known to man, and then some!, were brought to our table and carved onto our plates. The long buffet table was filled with both western and oriental fare to accompany all that protein being heaped into our tummies. I was eyeing the fruit section from the onset, making sure I had enough space for all those lovely fruits! I love fruits. They make me happy. I love fruit for dessert, (I can hear some of you gasping!), in fact I have fruit for dessert more often than cake or ice cream. I crammed my tiny plate with plums, dragonfruit, longgan, melon, peaches, hawthorn (oops how'd that piece of white chocolate get in there?) Sweeeeeeeeeet! And this was just the first plate. :)

But for dinner we were on our own and I looked forward to this everyday. It was always so much fun, hieing off to a new place every night where we indulged in good food and some wine and recapped the day's events. We dined in the following:

The Green T House: Luxe warned us this place was hoity-toity, so I knew I had to restrain myself from taking pictures of the food. Fine with me. But to not be allowed to take pictures of each other? Hmm, that's a bit much. But sshh... I managed to snap a couple of shots of the interiors here and here. heehee. I took these before I was told I wasn't allowed. The food was good, I'll give them that and the dessert was stunningly presented - in a bowl with dry ice and twigs, but we were uncomfortable the entire time. And the worst part? It was probably the most expensive meal I've paid in, umm, ever? At least we enjoyed making fun of the condescending staff when they weren't standing within earshot.

Red Capital Club - No. 66 Dongsi Jiutiao, Dongcheng District, Tel.: 86-10 8401 6152 , 86-10 8401 8886

Now this place I highly recommend. I loved the concept, service, food, and ambience. We stepped back in time when we entered the circular doorway, it was 1950's communist China. The menu read like a stately dinner with names like: Dream of Red Chamber - an eggplant and peanut ensemble cooked according to a description from a classic novel of the same name; South of the Clouds - fish in braided bamboo steamed over an open flame; and the Monk's Meditation - fusion of vegetables and mushrooms. Everything was elaborately presented with intricate vegetable carvings.

The mood oozed nostalgia in the cigar room where it was underscored by old over-stuffed leather armchairs - all original, dusty communist manifestos that lined the shelves, portraits of Chairman Mao that hung from the walls, memorabilia crammed into every nook and cranny and staff dressed in Red Guard uniforms. I lifted one of the vintage phones and was surprised to hear the Chairman himself on the other end. Nice touch!

Dongjie Xiyuan -76 Dongsi Bei Dajie (tel 6405 5568).

B suggested this place for our last day, she had read about it online and we all agreed it sounded intriguing. It took us a while to find it because we missed the sign which was in Chinese characters. But it was worth the trouble. This hole-in-the-wall turned out to be a breath of fresh air after all those large and crowded establishments, themed restaurants and pretentious waitresses. The specialty of the house is the dalian huoshao or Beijing-style pot-stickers filled with either pork, lamb, or beef mixed with a combination of chives, peppers, scallions or gourds. These were excellent! And we ordered more even before we finished our first plate.

Zhou Lining, the proprietor herself, had taken our orders and we were relieved she spoke some English. In addition to the potstickers, we had the mapo tofu - one of my favorite Chinese dishes and this one was up to par; the zha guanchang or fried “sausage” (photo on bottom right of collage) - both its looks and taste were forgettable, and the suanni qiezi - mashed eggplant with garlic which was loved by all. All in all, an extremely reasonable yet delicious and satisfying meal. Good call, B! :)

And this concludes my Beijing series at last! Phew! I can finally work on the backlog of posts on my dashboard. Thank you for putting up with me! :)

Silk Street & Street food

Silk street, as it turns out, isn't a street lined with stalls selling silk products. What started out as an outdoor alley market (reason for the name) is now touted as the third most popular tourist destination in Beijing after The Great Wall and the Forbidden City. It is a seven-level building crammed with thousands of retailers selling anything and everything under the Chinese sun. One level is dedicated to bags, luggage and wallets, lovely silk and silk products are found on another level, and scattered everywhere else are jewelry, antiques, shoes, electronic gadgets, toys, Chinese handicrafts, tea, art and calligraphy, clothes, beddings and table cloths, and trinkets galore.

"Do you know how to bargain?", Kevin, our guide, asked before dropping us off.

"Yes, of course! We're from the Philippines!", came the reply from our group.

"Ok, how do you bargain with them? How much?", He was testing us, not convinced we were prepared for the jungle in there.

" Hmm, maybe down to about, well, about 50, 60 percent?", my friend answered.

"Ohh no no no!", we failed his questioning, "You must bargain down to ten percent!!"

"Ten percent?!", we cried.

"Yes! I once bought a bag worth 900 rmb for 90 rmb".

I groaned inwardly, this is gonna be a long day. You see, I'm not very good at haggling. I don't have the patience needed to get the best bargain. And so I usually leave feeling I could have gotten it for less and then feeling cheated. It all seems so silly to me. If you're willing to sell that to me at this low price, then offer it to me at that price already and I'll buy it! Let's save each other some time. But even though I may not be good at it, I enjoy the banter so I play the game.

But here in Silk Street, the game takes on a different form. Only jungle rules apply. Walking through the aisles is like walking by restless growling lions in their cages. The vendors are hollering, clawing at your direction from their tiny stall, you can almost see the froth forming in their mouths, hungry for the kill. And should you manifest the slightest sign of weakness, even a quick glance at their direction can be misread as interest, you will be tackled and manhandled.

If you come out alive, there are other points of interest in this mall worth checking out. On one of the upper levels is a fascinating demonstration on how raw silk is produced from the cocoons of silk worms. I found a video of the process here. Funny, it's the same lady from my pictures, she's even wearing the same clothes!

various stages of silk

But where I spent most of my time was at this tea shop. At some point, my friends and I decided to split up and meet at by the entrance at a designated time. I love tea and I drink it like water sometimes, especially in the office, so I intended to bring some back with me from China. I wandered into the Tea Center and marvelled at the wide array of both loose leaf and bagged varieties. A kind saleslady invited me to sit for a tea tasting, and I happily obliged. She turned on the kettle, scooped up tea from bags and jars and tins, steeped them, strained the leaves, poured them into tiny cups, rinsed the cups in boiling water, handling them with metal tongs, scooped up some more, steeped, strained, poured. All this was done on a ceremonial wooden tasting table.

Tea drinking in China is a way of life. And witnessing this ritual and taking part in their tea culture was really special. I left carrying 2 big bags filled with green tea, blooming jasmine tea, fruit tea, 8 Treasures, and ginger tea. I also bought some tea cups and infuser mugs. Because all this wouldn't fit in my suitcase and I didn't want it getting crushed, I was forced to purchase a nice red trolley bag which was quite a steal.

Some tips for your silk street experience:

1. Bring cash. Both local currency and US dollars are accepted. Most vendors don't accept credit cards and there are few ATM's which aren't very reliable.

2. Walk away. After you're given the price of an item, simply thank the sales person then walk away. This simple act will guarantee a big drop in price, sometimes even a quick 50% drop.

3. Strength in numbers. Shop in groups if possible. If you buy more, you will be offered the wholesale price.

4. Don't expect authentic goods here. This is knock-off country so you might want to consider what you're taking through customs later on and if it's worth the risk.

5. Canvass. Don't buy from the first stall you go to. Make your rounds first, there are many stalls selling the exact same items at a possibly lower price.

6. And lastly, be firm.

Beijing Street Food:

A stone's throw away from our hotel is Wangfujing Rd., a pedestrian-only shopping street where you can find big department stores. I imagined what Oxford st. in London , supposedly the longest shopping street in Europe, would have been like if it were like this. I thought it was really nice not to have to worry about crossing the street and getting hit by a crazed Chinese driver and more importantly, not to be subjected to their fatal fumes.

The real gem though is the open-air market on Wangfujing Snack St., also known as Donghuamen Night Snack St. You can't miss it's ornate archway next to the Wangfujing Shopping Mall. We spent one evening just leisurely perusing all the food items which ran the gamut from traditional to exotic. First there were the 'normal' stuff: vacuum-packed bags of roast duck, chestnuts in abundance, candied fruit, corn, fried and steamed dumplings, grilled squid, veggie rolls, stinky tofu, fish balls...then it starts to get a little bit funkier: offal on sticks, entrails, and basically every conceivable animal part - feet, tongue, neck, ear, eggs, - it was starting to feel like a biology field trip. And then it's full-on Fear Factorish. I find myself staring at skewered scorpions and (horrors!) seahorses! The poor things!

As I'm gawking at the display, obviously mortified, the guy behind the counter decides that it would be hysterical to freak me out by flashing a live scorpion at my face. I should have seen it coming, because I knew he was watching the expression on our faces, but I didn't and let out a shriek which pleased him tremendously as evidenced by the chuckling and snortling from his direction. I glared at him.

It comes as no surprise that the Chinese eat every part of anything that moves without wheels and engines. In a country of 1.5 billion people, they had to be practical to survive, leaving nothing to waste. I have no doubt that if I were raised in China, I'd be munching on these snacks like they were buttered popcorn. But I wasn't. And neither were my friends who were with me. And so I regret to report that I didn't try any silkworms or scorpions or seahorses. Maybe next time when I'm with someone more adventurous than I am, I'd most likely give it a try. What I did love were the candied fruits ( more on this in the Xiamen series coming-up), the assorted dried fruits and nuts which we stuffed ourselves silly with and the grilled sweet potatoes!

I'll be posting pictures of more Chinese food next, in what is (I think) my final post on Beijing. So stay tuned! :)

My favorite vegetable in the world - yummy sweet potatos are grilled on the streets

Peking duck at the source

Now what would a trip to Beijing be without a Peking duck experience? It's unthinkable. It's like being there and yet not climbing the Great Wall.

There's something special about sampling your favorite food right in it's birthplace where we can safely assume that only local ingredients are used and that it is prepared in the traditional method. The fact that you are eating among locals and in an authentic setting heightens the whole experience that much more. So while I've had my share of roast duck from Peking Garden in Manila (once a favorite for very special occasions) and Chinatowns both here and abroad, I felt as if I was about to try it for the first time. Peking duck in Peking (now Beijing)! Oohh, I couldn't wait!

There are, of course, several places in the capital where you can enjoy this feast fit for emperors. During the Ming Dynasty, cooks from all over China travelled to the capital to cook for the emperor and many of the recipes invented in the palace kitchen, such as the Peking duck, eventually made it's way to the streets where it was smuggled by the court chefs and prepared in their new restaurants. Among the most popular are Quanjude Roast Duck Restaurant and Da Dong. While the latter was personally recommended by Bee and hence was my preference, a roast duck lunch in one of the many Quanjude Roast Duck branches was already included in our tour.

The restaurant was already packed when we arrived, and several chefs were were out on the floor busy carving the shiny roasted ducks for their diners. I quickly noted that we were the only foreigners there, or at least it seemed that way, which to me is always a good sign. We were led upstairs to another dining area to a large round table reserved for our small party of four. Our pre-ordered food arrived shortly after we were seated. There was a plate of sweet and sour pork, a plate of shiitake mushrooms with bokchoy which I adored and some breaded egg rolls. And then it arrived. The Pièce de résistance.

Wheeled to us was the duck, in all it's shining glory. Like an oiled-up body builder flexing his ab muscles, the duck poufed it's crisp, fatty skin for us. I felt my salivary glands kick into 4th gear. After he presented it to us, the chef lay it down on his pushcart and began to skillfully carve the bird, ensuring the perfect balance of skin with a bit of meat- crunch & succulence- in each piece.

Preparing a duck for roasting involves the process of pumping air under the skin to separate it from the meat. The chef then meticulously massages the skin to make sure it is evenly loosened and there are no holes which might allow air to escape. The duck is basted with hot water to tighten the skin, dried and basted again with a sweet mixture before it is hung to dry, a process that ensures a crisp skin . The cavity of the duck then gets stuffed with a secret blend of spices before it's left to roast over a wood-fuelled fire.

We were served Peking duck 'three-way', in three courses. Naturally, the first (above photo) is my favorite because it involves the outer layer of the duck - the skin! A waitress lays the slices of duck on the table with a plate of slivered scallions, the steamed pancakes and hoisin sauce. She proceeds to demonstrate how to assemble the pieces together in a nice roll with her chopsticls. There must be different ways to put this together, but how I like to do it is to spread hoisin sauce down the middle of the pancake with a spoon, add the duck and some scallions, drizzle a tiny bit more hoisin, then fold the bottom part of the pancake up and over before folding in the 2 sides toward the middle. The small bottom fold helps prevent the sauce from dripping onto your shirt. The hoisin sauce here isn't as sweet as the ones I'm familiar with but I liked it just as well. I could almost hear my arteries groaning with each bite, but they were drowned out by the crunch. It was exquisite and I couldn't get enough of it!

Tougher times have taught the Chinese to use up every part of the duck, not letting anything go to waste. So after the duck is nicely carved in your presence, it is returned to the kitchen where the remaining meat - that which is not attached to any skin - is thrown into a stir-fry while the bones are used for a consommé of duck broth; the second and third courses in the Peking duck three-way. We tried these as well, but we kept going back for the wraps.

So I climbed the Great Wall and I had Peking duck at the source. My Beijing experience was now complete. Well, almost.

If you haven't yet tired of my 2 month-long series on Beijing, please stay tuned for my last two posts - some Beijing street food and more on the dining scene. :)

Breezing through the Summer Palace

I don't know if my friends share the same sentiment but my visit to the beautiful Summer Palace in Beijing, however awe-inspiring, was one marred by frustration. You see, places like these deserve more than just a few hours of your time. It can only be truly appreciated when taken in slowly; with a leisurely stroll through its halls and into its temples and pavillions, up its towers, across it's bridges and around its lakes, under the canopy of its trees, savoring every moment.

Sadly, I can't say we did much of that. I had trusted that we would be given ample time to make the most of our tour but our guide seemed to be impatiently herding us around like cattle (prompting me to swear for the eleventeenth time to never again hire a guide if I can help it!). If we hadn't insisted on going up to the Tower of Buddhist Fragrance (above), we would not have gone in to see anything at all and just walked the perimeter of the grounds by the lake. Our guide barely even explained anything to us while we were there. Thankfully I did a bit of homework the night before and read my NG Traveller China guide before going to bed so I wasn't entirely clueless.

But frustrations aside, to say that I was impressed by this imperial wonderland of a retreat would be the mother of all understatements. It is the quintessential example of harmony between man and nature, seemingly designed to offer magnificent views from just about every spot. Also known as Yiheyuan, the Summer Palace was concieved in the 12th century and is touted as the best imperial garden in China. The Empress Dowager Cixi embezzled silver intended for the Imperial Navy to the restoration of the Summer Palace, which was significantly destroyed during the Boxer Rebellion, and the construction of the Marble Boat.

The Long Corridor here is similar in nature to the one at the Temple of Heaven but is much longer and with more tourists. While my friends walked along the tree-shaded pavement along the water, I chose to stroll through this corridor and imagine that I was tracing the footsteps of the Empress who must have passed this way many times to reach her Marble Boat. The ceiling of the corridor is designed in the same colorful patterns that had become familiar to me after my visit to the Forbidden City.

You can see a section of the Long Corridor to the right

We climbed the steps to the Tower of Buddhist Fragrance (to the dismay of our guide because - would you believe - this wasn't part of the itinerary) and were rewarded with a splendid view of Kunming Lake. The outdoor steps were quite the treat as they were even more beautifully designed than the Long Corridor. You can imagine all the cheesy pictures we took here!

I was really looking forward to taking pictures of the 17-arch bridge as well as our group on the dragon boat that was to take us there across the lake. But unfortunately it was low-tide, so I contented myself with a cup of coffee and pictures of the moored boats. I suspect our guide was secretly happy about our misfortune because we had already wasted precious time at the Tower. He urged us to walk faster as we made our way towards the exit, but we kept stopping for pictures along the way. It was only when he told us that if we didn't hurry we might lose our lunch reservations did we finally pack our cameras away and pick up our pace.

A half-day tour of the Summer Palace is not enough, you need a whole day here at least. For a more enjoyable and memorable visit, go on your own. You can bring a guide to help you identify the important attractions and the stories behind it, or you could also opt to rent one of those audio guides in your preferred language. Then you would have done the place justice, strolling and savoring, oohing and ahhing as you did so. It was, and still is, a place for recreation and leisure after all. :)

Autumn colors framed beautiful doorways and windows

the 17-arch bridge as seen through an original glass window

Happy new year, friends! :)

Hi everyone! I know I said I'd try and finish my Beijing posts before the year ends but it doesn't look like it's gonna happen. I have about 3 more posts to go but I'll be away from the computer from today until the 30th. I'm leaving in a couple of hours for the city of Xiamen in China with a girl friend of mine. I'm really excited about this trip because we're venturing slightly off the beaten path, by choosing this city over HongKong, Singapore and Laos - some of our options. I don't know very much about it, only know maybe two people who have been there, and that just makes it all the more intriguing to me.

One of my friends who has not only been there recently, but also spent some time studying there some years ago, was kind enough to send me an envelope of maps and guides to Xiamen. She even thoughtfully added her own tips and comments on sticky notes, how sweet is she? :) Thanks so much, M! These will definitely come in handy for sure. :)

On another note; I am truly blessed and grateful for the family and friends that I have and for the time I was given to spend with almost all of them this Christmas. All those dinner parties and get-together made my holidays that much more special.

I hope everyone's holidays has been filled with warmth and lots of love, laughter and good food. I'm sending each of you a wish that the new year brings with it even more blessings for you and your family, and that it be your grandest year yet!. :)

Takin' it to the streets

Prior to my trip to Beijing, I imagined the city to be somewhat small and more laid-back compared to the rapidly developing and booming Shanghai in the south. But while this may be an accurate comparison, I haven't been to Shanghai so I can't tell you for sure, there is nothing small about Beijing and it it not quite so laid-back. Like a dart board with the Forbidden city as bull's eye, Beijing is circled by ring roads. I never expected to see 12-lane expressways (the outer lanes on each side for bicycles) such as the 2nd ring rd. that runs through Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City.

You can't help feel that the city is in a breathless race to the 21st century, making up for lost time. There seems to be construction everywhere changing the city's lanscape forever. But tucked away from the sound of jackhammers and blaring car horns are little pockets of the past, charming remnants of the old way of life, threaded together by narrow lanes called hutongs. Some of the hutongs are so narrow (Qianshi Hutong, 40 cms wide) that only a thin person could walk though it, sideways.

a typical hutong

The word hutong was originally the Mongolian word for 'well' which were found on practically every street and in every square. They were central to the local's lives, being the major source of water supply which gave the locals the rare opportunity to socialise with one another. Like a honeycomb with many cells, residential complexes called siheyuan are scattered along these hutongs. The sihueyan best represent China's traditional housing architecture; familes and even whole communities live around a central open-air courtyard, in homes which were handed down the generations as gifts of historical importance. Depending on the family's social status, the designs ranged from simple and small-scale to large courtyards with carefully landscaped gardens and ornate roof beams.

The best way to navigate this charming tangled mess of alleys and doorways is on foot. Walking makes it easy to stop whenever you feel like to peek into courtyards through open doorways, to exchange nods and smiles with the locals that are going about their usual business, to take pictures of interesting things like street signs, purveyors of street food, charming windows and doorways. But if walking is not your thing or you are pressed for time, there are rickshaws for hire and you can even request for an English-speaking guide to show you around, which is what we did.

the bicycle is still the preferred way to get around

We climbed into our rickshaws at the junction of the Bell and Drum Towers and hired a nice lady guide. It was a very pleasant and leisurely journey, a far cry from the usual sounds of traffic, being taken around in bicycle-powered rickshaws. Pedaling her own bicycle alongside us, our guide engaged us in stories about this hutong or that one, and which prominent person, minister, mother of which empress, lived by that courtyard, and what drama went on beind the walls of that sihueyan.

We rode past children rushing home from school, their backpacks bouncing with each step; men and women and chidren and elderly alike rode past us in bicycles of their own, jingling their bells in greeting or warning, depending on the situation; old men sat outside in the shade large trees playing checkers; we passed a butcher shop, a fishmonger, countless fruit stands, doorways adorned with Chinese characters, grey brick walls decorated with ornamental tiling, windows lined with old bent leather shoes, a clothesline with underwear in varying shapes and sizes.

We were invited for a short visit inside one of the homes that was tucked away at the end of narrow passageway through which we had to walk single-file. We stepped into a tiny courtyard shaded by a mandarin orange tree decorated with red Chinese lanters and strings of red and green crepe paper. Chili plants lined the window sills, strings of garlic hung on the walls outside the kitchen and a caged owl perched above goldfish swimming inside a big blue and white vase. We were led by the lady of the house into one of the rooms (from which I took a photo of the courtyard below) which doubled as a guest room and living area. With the help of our guide who translated for both parties, we chatted with her while we sat around a simple wooden table munching on plum candies. We asked questions about her family and her life in the hutongs which she seemed only too happy to answer.

The tour gave us a glimpse into a unique culture that is slowly being paved away by modernisation. So while there are still a few thousand hutongs that have survived, it is imperative that all visitors to Beijing include this tour in their itinerary.

A violent past and a eunuch culture

Wow, I've had this post in draft for over a month! I can't believe how difficult it has been to squeeze in some blogging time lately. I also realized that since my trip to Beijing, I've gone on another trip (Dumaguete, which I'll be posting about later) and I'm getting ready for yet another next week, which will all add to my growing backlog of posts! Hayayay! So I have to work double time on updates. Thank you for being patient with me! :)

The hotel we were staying in was centrally-located at Wangfujing Rd., walking distance to the two most prominent sites in the heart of Beijing: Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City. In fact, at the break of dawn every morning B & T would run a full lap around those famous red walls and log their miles into their iPod nanos. Man, I really admire their determination. I, on the other hand, was on pure vacation mode, wanting to get as much sleep as I could before tackling this big and wondrous city each day.

When we arrived at Tiananmen Square early one morning, there were already lots of people there. Most were tourists who wore buttons or bright colored caps that distinguished them from other groups. Tour guides were everywhere speaking in various foreign languages to visitors from around the world. The square was immaculate despite the crowd and the grass surrounding the Monument to the People's Heroes bore neatly mowed stripes. The weather was pleasant and there was not a cloud in the sky; only more of those dancing kites I'd seen at the Temple of Heaven. It was the picture of peace. I found it difficult to imagine that it had seen so much violence and bloodshed when several hundred (some say even thousands) people were killed when the military crushed a nationwide democratic protest that had been staged there for seven weeks, earning it the notorious nickname the Tiananmen Square Massacre and condemnation from around the world.

The Great Hall of the People lies along the west side of the square and is the site of Congress meetings. Adjacent to that, on the southern side, is the Mao Zedong Memorial Hall where Chairman Mao's body lies in a crystal coffin. To the east is China's National Museum which houses both historical and revolutionary relics from China's long history. Today, on the museum's facade is a large digital countdown proclaiming 279 days, 9 hours, 28 minutes and 47 seconds to the 2008 Beijing Olympics.

At the north side, we crossed through an underground walkway and emerged at the Meridian Gate of the Forbidden City. At this point my stomach started to turn, as it usually does when I'm about to experience something big or life-changing.

Here are a few facts about the Forbidden City: construction began in 1406 and lasted about fifteen years; it lies right in the center of ancient Beijing and is the world's largest surviving palace complex, covering an area of 720,000 square meters or 74 hectares; there are about 980 buildings and 9,999 rooms within those red walls; it was home to 24 emperors during the Ming & Qing dynasties; the walls are made with white lime and glutinous rice cemented together with glutinous rice and egg whites; red being the symbolic color of imperial power is dominant throughout. It served as residence of the Imperial family and their household staff and as offices of the ministers.

This universe within a universe is a massive complex of courtyards, bridges and halls guarded by watch towers on every corner, and with the Imperial throne at it's center. In the old days, eunuchs dominated the population in the hundreds of thousands followed by the Emperor's numerous concubines dressed in swishing silk and tottering on shoes mounted on eight inch platforms. The sexually-impotent eunuchs played an important role in ensuring the purity of the concubines; they played a dual role of guardian and pimp when each night the Emperor would choose which of the women would be paying him a visit in his bed chamber. It is also believed that eunuchs posed no threat to the Emperor as they would never covet his political power for he could never sire a son to pass it on to.

Suffice it to say I was awe-struck as we strolled through the grounds, and even more so as we passed through the Gate of Supreme Harmony, the main entrance to the central courtyard and found ourselves before the the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the largest of all halls. Roofs are adorned with glazed yellow tiles and dragon guardians; the imperial bridges are paved with single-piece marble slabs carved with intricate designs; and doors are lined with nine rows of nine nails, nine being the imperial lucky number. Much of what I remember about the Forbidden City are scene flashes from Bernardo Bertolucci's The Last Emperor where the Imperial Palace looked extra-massive around the diminutive emperor Pu Yi. But it was even more massive than I could have ever imagined.

Life within these walls was ruled by strict protocol and ceremony. Certain doorways and bridges were reserved solely for the Emperor's passage and no one but the Emperor was allowed to dress in purple. The boys were banished to the outside world upon reaching puberty and daughters upon marriage, leaving behind only castrated manservants, imprisoned virgin maids and concubines, and the priveleged imperial family. It was a secret world that revolved around the throne; operating on a system wrought by anguish, greed, corruption, bribery, intrigues, treachery... ironically within a labyrinth of halls with names so poetic as Hall of Earthly Peace, Hall of Heavenly Purity, Hall of Preserved Harmony, Palace of Tranquil Longevity, and Gate of Celestial Purity.

We wrapped up our tour with a visit to the Imperial Garden where man-made structures maintain harmony with ancient trees, flower beds and large boulders. Below is a lumpy old cypress tree by the Pavillion of Lasting Sunshine.

The Great Wall of China: been there, got stung!

"You are not a hero at all if you have not climbed the Great Wall."
- Mao Zedong

If you haven't already heard the story directly from me, then you must be wondering about the title of this post. But I will get to that later. First, let me give you a brief intro about The Great Wall of China. It is almost 4,000 miles long and like a giant dragon, it zigzags across North China from the eastern coast to the Gobi desert in Gansu. The width of the wall is only about 18 feet (much narrower than I imagined it to be) and it's height is about 25 feet. I remember being told that the entire structure could be seen with the naked eye from the moon. I believed this, just like I believed a lot of the other urban legends when I was just a naive little kid. The truth is, because the wall is very slender it could only possibly be seen from way out there using super telescopes.

True or not, I not only got to see it with my naked eyes, but I walked it!! It was one of those precious moments where you feel the need to pinch yourself and make sure you aren't dreaming. It felt incredible being there, walking on this remarkable masterpiece that stood as witness to the rise and fall of Chinese history for over 2,000 years.

We went to the Mutianyu section of the wall which is about 90 kms. from Beijing and boy was I glad we revised our itinerary. Many tour operators take their groups to the more touristy Badaling section because of it's proximity to Beijing (70 kms.) and for the Ming Tombs which can be visited en route. Taking into account the advice of friends and online travelogues, we opted to forego the Tombs and the wall at Badaling for the more scenic and less crowded Mutianyu.

Now let me tell you what made this experience even more unforgettable for me. A freakin bee! Yes folks, I got stung by a bee. Having just arrived, we were making our way up the steep road to the cable car. This road is lined with souvenir shops and markets so as you can imagine I was happily shooting away with my camera, mesmerized by the colors of the dried fruits on display; when I felt a very sharp pain in the palm of my right hand. I see the little sucker (or should I say the little stinger) hanging there in the process of injecting me with its venom. Now mind you, it was cold up there so I've got on a thick coat, jeans, socks, a cap and sunglasses but the bee still managed to find some exposed flesh.

I screamed so loud and unleashed a torrent of profanity and frantically tried to shake the bee off but it wouldn't budge. The pain was intense! I finally flicked the bee off with my other hand and before I know it, someone is squeezing the wound to remove the stinger. I naturally assumed it was one of my friends so I was surprised when I looked up to see a complete stranger. Before I could even thank her she was gone, she disappeared as fast as she had appeared.

Our guide, Kevin, does not seem worried at all. After consulting a couple of locals, he tells me "it's normal" and assures me that I'll be alright. Yeah, I shrug thinking to myself, it's JUST a bee sting don't be a wuss. There was no way I was gonna let a tiny little thing like this ruin my visit to the Great Wall. So we hop on the cable car which takes us to the middle part of this section. We spend the next hour or so climbing the wall and passing through watchtowers, and just having a grand time. All the while I'm trying hard to ignore the fact that my hand is throbbing with pain. Psychokinesis, it's just mind over matter. I'm noticing however that it's getting bigger by the minute making it increasingly difficult to press the shutter of my camera. I keep thinking "it's normal" and the swelling would eventually go down.

All of a sudden every inch of my body from the top of my head to my feet begins to itch simultaneously! I'm not talking regular mosquito-bite itch here, I'm talking severe great-wall-magnitude itching! I must have looked like a wierdo practicing my coordination scratching my head slapping at my thighs at the same time. People were starting to stare but I didn't care. I pulled up a sleeve and was horrified to find my forearm covered in clusters of round blister-like bumps. It was so gross. I felt welts on my neck when I scratched there. I peek down my sweater and find more welts, they're huge and they're irregularly-shaped, white on red. I am completely covered in hives! Kevin and my friends arrive and they're ready to go. They stopped and stared at me in shock. Apparently my face had large patches too, and my ears were bright red and swollen.

On a side note: Have you ever seen the movie, Pure Luck? Where Martin Short gets stung by a bee and like me has a violent allergic reaction to it? That's how it was. The wierd thing is, my cousin D used to tell me how that movie was about me, because I'm such a klutz. He even christened me "murphy" for Murphy's Law because he says if anything can go wrong, it'll go wrong with me. Psssshaw! Whatevah!

I looked at Kevin and said, "this isn't normal anymore". He went into panic mode and ordered us to follow him. We rode the cable car back down to the tourist center where they had a small clinic. As soon as we get there, Kevin engages in a very loud 10 minute discussion in Chinese with the nurse. When I asked him for some English, he turns to me with one word "poisonous". "Umm, okayyyy? I kinda knew that. Give me anti-histamine. You know anti-histamine?", (I'm popping an invsible pill into my mouth). Neither of them understand me. I silently curse myself for leaving my Virlix in the hotel.

"We have to go somewhere else" he tells us, "they have no prescription here".

"But it's just anti-histamine I need!", I plead to deaf ears. What the heck is anti-histamine in Mandarin?!

More discussion in Chinese before we leave to find a hospital. As the rest of us are hurrying down to our van, my friend T decides to run back up to the market to buy some dried fruit and nuts to take with us. B decides to accompany her. What the?! Shopping? They're going shopping NOW?! At this point, I am too busy dealing with my violent allergic reaction to react but inside I am laughing at the absurdity of it and I make a mental note to pick that bone with them later. So C and I sit inside the van, waiting. She's trying to keep me from scratching off my skin.

I had managed to remain very calm until this point. My ears had swelled so much that I realized I was now slightly deaf. I remember friends telling me of allergy attacks where they can't breathe because their bronchial tubes start to constrict and I wondered if that was next. As if on cue I begin to wheeze. I turn to C and very calmly say, "I think I'm panicking now. I can barely hear". With that, she jumps out and screams at Kevin "Where the $%&# are they?!". A minute later they arrive with a huge bag filled with assorted dried fruits and nuts.

I tell you, in retrospect it's hilarious! We have not stopped laughing about this incident. Even at that moment I wanted to laugh, I just didn't have the energy. T will later justify this all by saying very matter-0f-factly , "I was only thinking about all of you. I mean, it's lunch time and what if we didn't find any hospital and you got hungry?". Oh such thoughtful friends I am blessed with! What would I do without them? ;)

Five minutes later, we find ourselves at what was supposed to be another clinic. I think the driver and Kevin misunderstood the directions because this was nothing more than a tiny pharmacy with a thin cot in the back. Again, another 10 minute discussion ensues between Kevin and the proprietor, a tiny old woman who appears from behind one of the shelves laden with what look like Chinese potions. This prompts my imagination to go on overdrive. Holy moly, what vile concoctions are these people gonna make me drink?!

"Anti-histamine!" I shout at her in vain for the third time, popping that invisible pill into my mouth again. She stares blankly. Grrr.

Just as I thought, we were in the wrong place so back into the van we go. It's a wild goose chase around the mountains of north china, in search of that elusive hospital. We're nearly two hours away from Beijing, there was no way I could have lasted a trip back to the city. It was getting serious and I needed relief soon.

At long last we find the hospital. It appears to be desserted. No one at the lobby. No one in the halls. All five of us run up the stairs in search of a doctor, a nurse, anyone. Still desserted. Tee noo nee noo nee noo nee noo. The twilight zone theme invades my head. Finally, a doctor comes out from one of the rooms looking like he had just woken up. He sees my predicament, puts on his coat and leads us back downstairs to one of the treatment rooms. Can you guess what happens next? Yup! Another one of those 10 minute discussions, a word of which we do not understand. And can you guess what I do next? Wow you're good at this!

"Anti-histamine!!". Hoping that since he is a doctor he'll actually understand me. No chance. The doctor, still yapping away, whips out a syringe and a vial. Uh oh. If there's one thing you should know about me it's that I hate needles. I'm so terrified of them that while normal brothers would scare their younger sisters by telling them there's a ghost in the closet or the boogeyman is under my bed; my brother would freak me out by telling me the Red Cross was coming to take blood from me.

I wave the syringe away, acting out the invisible-pill-popping action in earnest now. "Anti-histamine!" , I try one more time, only to be ignored. Kevin translates, "He says you will feel better in 10 to 15 minutes after he gives this to you. But you will feel sleepy. And if you stop breathing, to come back here." Oh. Great.

Fine. I remove my coat and roll up my sleeve. It's his turn to wave his hand at me. Well, what do you know, like I haven't suffered enough, I have to bare my butt to this strange man and take the needle there. I grit my teeth and bend over then he jabs my behind. Ok, that wasn't too bad. I'm too itchy to feel anything else.

I ask C to take my wallet and pay. My hand is now the size of a boxing glove, a kid's glove. I'm thinking it's gonna cost quite a bit because I don't have travel insurance. When C returned from the cashier and announced it was RMB 5.60 ( $0.65), I thought, What on earth did they squirt in me?! Water?!

Well whatever it was, it worked like magic! Only ten minutes later, the hives were gone. My hand stayed swollen for 2 more days and prevented me from using chopsticks and the stigmata-like scar is still there today, 3 weeks later. The physical reminder is slowly peeling away, but this is one experience I won't soon forget! :)

Pastimes at the Temple of Heaven

Barely three hours after touchdown and happily sated with our first taste of Chinese food in China (more on the food in future posts), my friends and I headed for the Temple of Heaven. This temple complex, which is the largest in China, reflects the ancient Chinese belief that Heaven was an ominpresent god of nature that governed everything under the sky, hence it was the venue for many sacred rituals and ceremonies to ensure good harvests.

The most striking building in the complex is the circular Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests (pictured above and below). It is built on the precise location where heaven and earth meet, as determined by feng shui masters. it is beautiful! Even more so up close. The glazed tiles under each eave glistened in the sun against a backdrop of azure sky, stunning in it's beauty and splendor. I must have stood there for a good five minutes just staring before I took my first photograph.

At the top of the steps you are treated to a 360 degree view of Beijing. Until recently, this was the tallest point in all of the country. No one was allowed to build higher. Visitors are only allowed a peek into the hall, but it is enough for one to be amazed at the level of craftsmanship. The detail is just exquisite! The vaulted ceiling is about 36 meters high and was slotted together without a single nail. The relationship of the Chinese lunar calendar and agriculture is shown in the pillars surrounding the hall. The central four pillars represent the four seasons, for example, the next 12 pillars around them represent the 12 months, while the outer 12 pillars denote the division of the 24-hour day into two-hour units or shichen.

Thousands of 100 year old cypress trees lend a serene atmosphere to the park that surrounds the temples. It is no wonder then that the park has become a favorite among the locals for recreational activities or simply to just daydream or ponder the sayings of Confucius. Now I am accustomed to seeing mostly fellow travellers when visiting popular tourist attractions, with tour guides and hawkers being the only locals around. So you can imagine my delight at finding a significantly large gathering of locals within these walls. I think they even outnumbered the tourists!

By the east gate there was a couple who was joyfully twirling their batons of rainbow ribbon and just beyond them was an old man in serious tai chi mode. Kites danced above the tree tops in the distance and children bundled-up tight in padded winter clothing waddled after each other in a game of tag.

But the best surprise of all was the long corridor. This 350 meter long covered walkway was once used to carry slaughtered sacrificial animals to the altar. Today, there are no slaughtered animals to be found. Instead, the entire length of the corridor is flanked by locals in groups or pairs and even solitary individuals engaged in typical Chinese past times. Many are gathered in rowdy card games which seem to require the slapping of cards on the bench. Young and old alike are bent over checker boards, their brows furrowed in intense concentration, contemplating their next move. Nearby, a lady shows off her knitting to admiring passersby.

In another section, a man practices the ancient art of calligraphy on the floor. Just a few feet away from him people are making music together; they are dancing and beckoning for us to join them. Further along I notice an old man, his face deeply lined with wisdom and inscribed by time, with silver medicine balls which he rolls around in his hand.

Yet another old man in a brown fedora plays the erhu, a two-stringed musical instrument. He gives me a warm smile after I sneak a picture of him and returns his gaze to the group playing with a jianzi or Chinese hackysack, a popular game using a shuttlecock. Before I knew it, my friend (that's her with the sunglasses) has jumped in, much to everyone's amusement. She's actually good at this!

That was how it was along that corridor. Everyone seemed happy, at peace. Basking in the simple joys of life and welcoming you to do the same. :)