Dour, 電通-controlled, family-centric Belgian Neocolonialism, enthusiastically jaded observations, support for state-owned neoliberalist media and occasional rants from the twisted mind of a privileged middle-class expatriate atheist projecting some leftist ideals with my ridicule of Tucker Carlson (from The Blogs Formerly Known As Sponge Bear and Kaminoge 物語)
*see disclaimer below
Like Yu Gong 愚公移山 (1940), an old Chinese parable reimagined by Xu Beihong 徐悲鸿 as a call for collection action to resist the Japanese during the Second World War
Immersion Week has ended and it's time to share some photos. The past five workdays were meant to help students like myself experience a truly immersive Mandarin language environment, by venturing out of the classroom in tandem with our teachers (a different one for each day), and explore aspects of Beijing's 北京 culture and history, all the while conversing only in 普通话 as much as possible. Wise guys might point out that I should be doing so already at home. Wise guys would be right, but in my defense I offer the following: 1.) I'm so used to conversing in English with my wife that it's very difficult to change tack this late in the game; 2.) Shu-E tends not to speak 國語 in the clear, concise manner that my deteriorating sense of hearing requires; 3.) She's not interested in economics or politics, subjects which take up a disproportionate amount of classroom language learning time; and 4.) Both she and my daughter are Taiwanese. Anyone who has ever heard a denizen of the beautiful isle say "I am 44 years old" in a strong Formosan accent knows the struggle is a real one.
Excuses, excuses. What follows is a brief summary of what I did and where I went during this past week, starting with...
Monday 星期一: Beijing's Central Axis 北京的中轴线
Everyone met up on the first morning outside the west gate of Zhongshan Park 中山公园西门. Once inside, we were shown the Altar of Land and Grain 社稷坛, where emperors would make offerings to the gods of earth and grain. Behind the altar is a Ming dynasty-era hall later renamed 中山堂 in honor of Sun Yat-sen:
Passing by the entrance to the Forbidden City's Palace Museum, closed on Mondays:
Monumentalism is a condition that China has historically suffered from, from the Great Wall and the Forbidden City to the present-day Three Gorges Dam. The Imperial Ancestral Temple 太庙, where emperors once worshipped their ancestors, is no exception:
My guides for this day's activities were Teachers Zhou 周老师 and He 何老师:
From the Cultural Palace of the Working People (where the Imperial Ancestral Temple is located), the three of us utilized Beijing's share bike system to our next destination, Jingshan Park 景山公园. If that name sounds familiar, it's most likely because I visited the park just the previous day with Shu-E and Amber!
In case you're in need of a refresher, the park was the imperial garden of the Ming 明朝 and Qing 清朝 dynasties, and was at one time the commanding elevation for the whole of Beijing. Just like the day before, I took a photo of the Forbidden City from the Wanchun Pavilion 万春亭, though the morning haze was less than cooperative:
The Beijing City Center sign, showing the capital's central axis:
The view was much clearer looking toward the north:
Leaving Jingshan Park, we meandered through some of Beijing's hutongs 胡同. Yes, that is a mini electric car in the foreground, a common sight on Beijing's streets (ideal for parking in those narrow alleys). The wife has suggested we get one during our stay here, though I'm not sure my 6'3" (189.5 cm) frame would fit inside:
Next up was Houhai 后海, an artificial lake set aside for the exclusive use of the royal families of yore. Houhai's history as a business district stretches back to the Yuan dynasty 元朝:
Passing by a traditional-looking teahouse. By this point my legs were starting to bother me, but the teachers pressed on:
Though I can find no mention of the name in this blog's search function, my wife insists we visited Houhai during one of our two previous visits to Beijing (in December 2013 and May 2014). And as we walked through the shopping area, I had a strong feeling of déjà vu, to the point that I was sure my family and I had eaten at one of these restaurants pictured below:
The entrance to 烟袋斜街, aka Pipe Street. From the late Qing dynasty to the 1920's and '30's, this was the street to visit to satisfy all your smoking needs. Unfortunately, many of the present-day (non-tobacco-related) businesses are closed, victims perhaps of the COVID-19 situation?:
Our last stops with the lǎoshīs were outside the Drum Tower 鼓楼...:
With all the teachers no doubt glad to be rid of us, my classmates (minus two members) and I plunged back into the hutong to have Zha Jiang Mian 炸酱面, Beijing's signature noodle dish:
Ordering was easy - we didn't have to. There was only one thing on the menu at the place we visited, and everything was brought out to us as soon as we were seated. At only RMB25 ($3.40), turnover is critical:
The first day of Immersion Week was somewhat on the brutal side. According to one of my 同学's calculations, we covered more than six miles (roughly ten kilometers) on foot. No wonder lunch tasted so good!
Tuesday 星期二：Chinese History 中国历史
This day's activities kicked off at the National Museum of China 中国国家博物馆, yet another massive structure located on the east side of Tiananmen Square, opposite the Great Hall of the People. The "5000 Years of History" trope might be a myth, but China is home to the world's longest, continuous civilization, so it comes as little surprise the museum consists of over one million pieces (some of them replicas) in 48 exhibition halls on a space of nearly 200,000 square meters (2.15 million square feet). My teachers and I stuck to (some of) the halls devoted to pre-modern China, though we did pass some suitably heroic revolutionary works of art on the way in:
The following are some random shots I took inside the various halls. A painted pottery basin with a fish design, a product of the Yangshao culture 仰韶文化:
The Shang Dynasty 商超 "Hou Mu Wu" 后母戊 bronze food container
A bronze wine vessel with four rams, from the late Shang dynasty:
A set of stone qing 磬 (a type of percussion instrument), from the Warring States period 战国时代:
One of six stone relief panels found in the Zhao Mausoleum 昭陵:
A Tang dynasty 唐朝 painted pottery figurine of a woman on horseback, created in that time before the horrendous practice of foot-binding took hold in China during the Song dynasty:
A painted stone depiction of a bodhisattva, from the Tang dynasty. I was surprised at how few religious artworks were on display in the national museum, compared with what you might see at a comparable institution in Japan:
Speaking of Japan, this Western Xia 西夏 glazed pottery roof ornament is of a type similar to Nagoya Castle's 名古屋城 famous 金鯱:
A mock-up of a famous pagoda at a temple in Shanxi Province 山西省:
I found this bronze figure very interesting, as it was created as a model for acupuncture and moxibustion:
Entering the sections related to the Ming and Qing dynasties:
The aforementioned Qianlong Emperor in all his finest:
The present-day government is guilty of overly emphasizing the so-called Century of Humiliation in order to whip up patriotic fervor (and divert attention away from the very serious modern-day problems the government and society are facing), but this print from the late 19th-century does show the very real threat China was facing from the Western powers and Japan:
Opium smoking paraphernalia under a painting of Hong Kong. Not one of the British Empire's finest hours:
This shot of one of the hallways as we were getting ready to leave shows just how large the national museum is:
Having an ice cream break with Teacher Yin 尹老师:
For a history geek like me, visiting the National Museum of China was a great experience (though the level of security, and especially the close examination of my passport, there was borderline ridiculous in an Orwellian sort of way), but the sheer scale of it all had left me exhausted. However, there was another location on the day's itinerary, so the three of us took the subway to the Ming Dynasty City Wall Site Park 明城墙遗址公园. The original city wall, 24 kilometers (15 miles) in length, was put up in 1419. Today, the only remaining section of the original Beijing inner city wall is a 1.5 kilometer-long stretch located near the Beijing train station. The leaves on the trees there are undergoing their annual color transformation:
With Teacher Qi 琪老师:
The southeast corner tower is the largest remaining such wall structure in China, and was constructed in 1436. At the top could be seen graffiti left behind by American and Russian soldiers during the Boxer Rebellion:
A train passes by. At over 160, Tuesday's AQI left a lot to be desired:
A map showing both the inner and outer walls of the capital:
It was yet another interesting outing, but on just the second day of the week, the toll on my legs and back (I'm not used to toting a backpack around) was already beginning to be felt.
Wednesday 星期三: Chinese Art 中国艺术
We've had some really beautiful days since arriving in Beijing in late August. This day wasn't one of them. The AQI was 216 as I exited the metro station and had a brief look in passing at what remains of the city's 2008 main Olympics venue, now a public park:
Next door stands the Museum of the Communist Party of China, which of course has to be even more massive in scale:
All of China's ethnic groups stand united in their single-minded purpose to build a prosperous and stable socialist society. Just don't ask questions about the economic and social issues faced by the non-Han minorities - in this country it's a case of wear your colorful ethnic costumes, sing your upbeat ethnic songs and perform those exotic ethnic dances, and keep your mouth shut about everything else. Know thy place:
The museum's mission statement spelled out in Chinese and English. No mention, of course, of the tumultuous years of the Cultural Revolution when so much of the country's artistic heritage was needlessly damaged or destroyed:
And now for some positivity - I actually enjoyed this place. It was refreshing to see China's artistry and culture reimagined by modern artists following the death of Mao and the opening up of the economy. No longer needing to serve a functional purpose, today's artisans are relatively free (okay, within certain ideological/political limits) to produce objects solely for the sake of art:
The Moon over the Lugou Bridge at Dawn. Or, as it's better known outside of China, the Marco Polo Bridge, where the Second Sino-Japanese War broke out in 1937:
Table Tennis Ball as a Symbol of Friendship, a statement of sorts of China's ping-pong diplomacy. It certainly worked on Henry Kissinger:
The Five Elements Tower, which I wouldn't mind having as a living room centerpiece:
The Wearied Angel. Exhausted from having to enforce the COVID-Zero policy:
Livestreaming Commercials to a Miao Village:
This was one of my favorites - a colored porcelain vase crafted way back in...1986:
My companion for the day was Teacher Bao. An ethnic Mongolian, 包老师 often has some interesting insights to share concerning the Han majority:
The guzheng 古筝, which Shu-E has been playing off and on for almost a decade. Her instrument should be arriving soon, so it'll be interesting to see if she resumes her studies:
One exhibit featured replicas of cave temple murals from Dunhuang 敦煌 in Gansu Province 甘肃省. I would really like to visit this desert oasis, but as our tired hazmat-suited deity above would remind me, domestic travel isn't advisable at present:
My wife is relatively young, but for as long as I've known her, she's derived an unfathomable and inexplicable enjoyment from listening to traditional Chinese opera 戏曲:
The building housing the exhibits could be downsized to more manageable proportions, but the arts and crafts museum was for me the most fascinating of the sights seen during Immersion Week. I think Bao Laoshi would agree:
It's a pity the contents of the hall couldn't be displayed in the artist's home, which was torn down in the late 1960's during construction of the Beijing metro system:
Xu was at the forefront of Chinese realism painting. His Dian Heng and Five Hundred Heroes (1930) reminded me of the colorful Bible storybooks I remember from childhood (the ones with the blond-haired, blue-eyed Jesus):
The artist studied in Paris from 1919 to 1927, and the influences he picked up while in Europe could be clearly seen in many of his paintings. 蜜月 mìyuè (Honeymoon) depicts Wu and his partner Jiang Biwei 蔣碧微:
月夜 yuèyè (Moonlit Night). I assumed the women in the painting were "special business" workers, as Shu-E would describe them. My teacher begged to differ with this interpretation:
Xu also produced works of a more traditional Chinese type:
Xu is probably most famous in China for his ink paintings of horses:
Two of my favorites in the museum for their calming atmospheres (my heart literally goes out to Xu). 青城山风景 (Mt. Qhingcheng Scenery)…:
and 银杏树 (Gingko Tree):
Compared to the first two days, Wednesday was comparatively easier on my legs, though other parts of my body weren't always content:
Thursday 星期四：Beijing's Urban Layout Plan and Beijing's Oldest Brands 北京的城市规划和北京老字号
You find them in cities all over China. Some are small in scale; others, like the one in Shanghai, reflect the epic aspirations of the (mega)city's leaders. Beijing's Planning Exhibition Hall 北京规划展览馆, close to Tiananmen Square (see pic below, taken after emerging from the metro), naturally rivals Shanghai's in scope:
What is a "planning exhibition hall" you might be asking yourself? Here, it's a free museum that explores the history of Beijing's urban development and the envisioning of future urban planning, among other things. The first display you are greeted with upon entering is a model layout of the city's central axis showing (among other places) Tiananmen Square...:
..the Forbidden City...:
…and the park which hosted the main venues of the 2008 Summer Olympics:
In the history section, my attention was naturally drawn to diagrams showing plans the invading Japanese had drawn up during World War II for the "New streets and markets" 新街市 in the eastern and western suburbs:
A replica of a simple office used by a humble city planning official presumably devoted to carrying out the Party's development plans:
A conception of what modern-day living looks like. For those with the RMB, perhaps...:
As was the case in Shanghai, the highlight here was the "Beijing Urban Planning Model", featuring a very large-scale model layout of the central part of the city. Our residential complex wasn't included the model, but satellite images of the immediate surroundings were placed on the floor adjacent to the models, and I was able to pinpoint our house by standing on it, Godzilla-style:
"Ecological improvement improves the regional environment"! Yes, I would certainly want to set my dreamhouse down in that environment:
One curious exhibition had pandas demonstrating all the Winter Olympic events as part of an official campaign urging Chinese to take up winter sports. I point out for my teacher Canada's national pastime:
Another view of the "Beijing Urban Planning Model", this time from the floor above:
From the exhibition hall, we (including Dave, one of my classmates, and his assigned laoshi for the day) walked over to Qianmen Street 前门外大街, located opposite the massive Zhengyang Gate 正阳门:
A group selfie with Zhengyangmen in the background. I have no idea why the image is reversed (note my Pirates cap) - it wasn't taken with my cell phone:
The woman in the back (inside the shop, wearing a traditional outfit) turned out to be an eerily realistic-looking animatronic figure:
I ended up with one of those lamb skewers the cook was grilling:
Not all the buildings in the area had been beautified:
From Qianmen Street our small group made its way over to Liulichang 琉璃厂. This cultural street originated in the Qing dynasty, when candidates from all over China coming to Beijing to take the imperial examinations lived in this area. Stores selling books, ink and inkstones and paper sprung up in the neighborhood to cater to their needs:
We also stopped in at Rongbaozhi 荣宝斋, founded in 1672. It's now a collection of various galleries, stores and workshops devoted to such cultural pursuits as calligraphy, painting and woodblock printing. Dave and I were both interested in the mock-up of a traditional 四合院, but the courtyard was closed and we could only have a peek through the window slats:
A well-deserved break at the end of another long day:
Friday 星期五：Forbidden City and Wangfujing 故宫和王府井
If you've read this far, but still haven't figured it out yet, one of the themes of this post is the sheer size of some of China's public monuments. With the possible exceptions of the Great Wall or the Three Gorges Dam, none are larger than the famed Forbidden City 紫禁城. For the final day of Immersion Week, I was assigned to revisit the landmark made famous, in part, by its serving as the locale for Bernado Bertolucci's epic The Last Emperor:
I won't go into much detail about what I saw on Friday morning, namely for a couple of reasons: 1.) I'm exhausted after a week of plunging into the depths of central Beijing; and 2.) I visited the Forbidden City with Shu-E and Amber back in December 2013, and in the accompanying blog post about the experience I tried to explain (briefly and not very successfully) about many of the most significant structures there:
I should note the security presence in the area around Tiananmen was extremely heavy, with the contents of my backpack being given the proverbial fine-toothed comb treatment. At least the officials going over my things were polite:
There were two clear differences between the time I visited nine years ago and on this occasion (three, if you count the smothering security presence). One was the lack of crowds on Friday - those of us present were simply swallowed up by the vast scale of the imperial palace grounds. The other was that almost all of the building interiors were closed off - the last time I was there we could go inside many of the halls to view the contents:
Looking up at this domed ceiling was vaguely reminiscent of being inside a European cathedral or an American state capitol building:
The Palace of Prolonging Happiness 延禧宫 (a residence for imperial consorts) was originally built in 1420, renovated in 1686 and then largely destroyed by fire in 1845. Interestingly, work to rebuild the hall in a Western style was begun in 1909, but construction was eventually discontinued due to a lack of finances, and the building eventually served as a warehouse for storing artefacts:
These four women were dressed in Qing-era outfits. Outside the Forbidden City we saw couples dressed in Ming dynasty-style clothes having their wedding photographs taken:
One of the residences used by the Empress Dowager Cixi. For most of the time since her death in 1908 she's been portrayed as a villainess, a reactionary who thwarted attempts to reform China in the face of threats from Japan and the Western powers, while corruptly enriching herself in the process. In recent years, there have been some revisionist attempts to present her in a more feminist light. The truth most likely lies somewhere in between - a behind the scenes ruler who did China more harm than good, but whose present-day image has been largely shaped by misogyny (from Chinese nationalists) and Orientalist "Dragon Lady" stereotyping (from Western observers):
The Lodge of Spiritual Cultivation 养性斋 served as the residence of British diplomat Reginald Johnston while he tutored Puyi 溥仪, the last emperor of China:
I've already looked down on the Forbidden City from the top of Jingshan Park. Here's the view looking up at the Wanchun Pavilion:
Posing at the rear of the Forbidden City:
We finished the day in the Wangfujing Bookstore 王府井书店, where it appeared no one was interested in the final published reports of the recently-concluded 20th Party Congress:
And so Immersion Week has come to an end, with classes resuming in our usual location from next Monday. It's been fascinating at times, visiting new places, as well as sites I've been to before or am planning to see (again, with the girls) during our Beijing tour. However, it's also been mentally (having to speak in Mandarin for much of the time) and physically (all that walking!) challenging - I've been facing limitations I never knew I had, with the lǎo 老 in lǎowài 老外 making its presence felt more than I would have liked.
I am not looking forward to the next year in the Chinese lunar calendar...
