最后北京的事

外国人
Waiguoren.

 

Three little syllables, and yet so powerful.  The literal meaning is "outside country person."  Foreigner.  I hear these words every day; sometimes they're whispered behind me, sometimes shouted by tiny children, and occasionally breathed in my face by the curious person next to me on the bus.  I'm constantly reminded that I'm an outside-country-person--I don't belong.  In case the color of my skin and hair weren't reminder enough.

Sometimes I feel so comfortable in China, I can almost convince myself that I've become a part of this country.  I even get a little defensive of other foreigners invading my China.  The illusion is easily shattered.

On our last full day in Beijing I slipped out of my bed early, with only the darkness for company, leaving the other 11 backpackers to their slumbers while I stole time from the night.  I saw a group of girls running toward Tiananmen Square and joined them for no other reason than to feel alive.  We were brought up short by the security guards towering over the bag screening checkpoint, forbidding misconduct without any words.  Sobered, I joined the growing throng of visitors in the square.

We watched the spirit of the Chinese people rise, its red pride boldly waving in the wind with its golden stars speaking of hope for their country.  It proclaimed their pride in the past and belief that the future will be better.  An unwavering trust in the greatness of China.  I silently watched as hundreds of Chinese citizens started their morning with the flag raising.  As I looked around I was struck by the realization that no matter how long I live in China I'll always be an outsider.

That shouldn't come as a surprise.  I didn't expect to become a citizen or anything.  I just realized that in the U.S. we tend to absorb people.  You move to America and you become American.  We don't ask questions about where you came from and we don't care.  You prove your worth by what you become there.  The past is gone.  I guess some part of me expects that to happen in China too, but it never will.  And that's okay.

The ceremony was short and not very exciting but I loved watching the people.  I felt like China was showing off for me.  Every person and every thing vying for my attention and trying to make me love it more.  There was a row of cleaning ladies standing in formation, armed with their brooms, ready to sweep away the evidence of the crowd.  After it was over I considered going to the Mao'soleum to view Chairman Mao.  My desire to see what is supposedly the dead body of a world famous fool was not at all strong but my desire to tell people about it led me in that direction.  Then I saw the morbid line stretch its sinuous body all the way around the building and decided breakfast would serve an acceptable substitute. 

I was drawn in by a beautiful shopping center decorated in the spirit of the forbidden city and filled with shops I couldn't even afford to look at.  The siren song of Starbucks took hold of my muscles and I looked around for a pole to tie myself to, but somehow I stayed strong.  A block over I found the real China, hidden behind the painted facade with its gray broken buildings and ever friendly workers.  I found a baozi shop and sat down with a bowl of doujiang to serve as a replacement for the coffee I wanted.  I paid 6 kuai for my breakfast and savored it for the time when Starbucks are plentiful and baozi are impossible to find.

After a leisurely breakfast I decided to message my friends to see if any of them were awake but not a soul replied so I decided to explore the Forbidden City without them.  I lost myself in the maze of elaborate buildings.  It's impossible to describe, just go see it for yourself!  Besides I'm actually getting a little tired of my own Beijing stories so I'm assuming most people who read this are too.

A thought that kept creeping into my head while I wandered the once forbidden palace was how consistently power corrupts.  People may start off with the best of intentions, or they may start of with mediocre intentions, but I think I can safely say that given power they will surely arrive at self-service.  One look at the grandeur of palaces convinces me that no matter who is in charge, they care more for their own luxury than the livelihood of their people.  I'm sure I would be no better.  It does taint my enjoyment of the splendor just a tiny bit.

Eventually most of my traveling companions joined me in the Forbidden City, then we went to the Temple of Heaven and discovered that it costs almost the same amount as the Forbidden City entrance price but is significantly smaller and less interesting.  I felt like it was an extension of what I'd already seen.  After that we went to WangFuJing street where we had the chance to eat scorpions, grasshoppers, starfish, centipedes, and many other scary snacks. The extent of my bravery was to eat strawberries on a stick.  Lastly we found a place to try the famous Peking Duck.  The day was rather perfect which makes for far less interesting stories but was enjoyable nonetheless.

Next up:  India stories!


"Prosperity knits a man to the world.  He feels that he is finding his place in it, while really it is finding its place in him."
- C.S. Lewis