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
For those few regular readers of this modest blog, you may recall that back in October the year before, the Mandarin class students (your humble scribe included) took a break from the classroom, and with the instructors leading the way, visited a number of places in Beijing 北京, an activity dubbed "Immersion Week". It was an exhausting five days, involving way too much walking, and perhaps coincidentally, the start of my various health issues, with innumerable visits to various doctors since.
Well, two weeks ago was "Immersion Week, the Sequel", though a more accurate description would be "Mini-Immersion Week". The differences this time were twofold: 1.) The activity times were shorter, taking place in the afternoon following the morning classes. And 2.) Everything was done with the students as a whole, as opposed to the small groups we traveled in during the earlier Immersion Week. It was also less strenuous this time, but the idea of enjoying the break from the afternoon classes was tainted by the smoggy days we had to endure. But that's Beijing for you.
Photos from the various Immersion Week activities can be seen toward the end of this post. But preferencing those pics are some brief descriptions of what occurred since the last blog post. Like the time the family and I enjoyed lunch at Nijūkan 二十貫, a nearby Japanese izakaya 居酒屋:
Satiated from lunch, our daughter unsuccessfully tried to start up a conversation with No-Face 顔無し from Spirited Away 千と千尋の神隠し:
Flowers in bloom despite the smog above and around them:
The wife wanted to see what remains of the area where the 2008 Olympics were held, but first things first - our hunger required immediate attention. So right after finding a parking space near the Olympic Park, we had lunch at a restaurant specializing in Beijing cuisine. I neglected to note the English and/or Pinyin names of the establishment (assuming there was one or both, that is) but in hanzi it was dubbed "Stuffed Lao Man/Palace Dumplings" (as per Google Translate) 馅老满/宫廷饺子:
Among the dishes ordered were some beef pies 牛肉馅饼…:
…and Sai crab 赛螃蟹, made with eggs and a mystery fish. For some reason, it was important for the menu to point out that even though it contained no crab at all, it was alleged to taste better than crustacean meat. No comment:
At the Beijing Olympic Green 北京奥林匹克公园 and the Olympic Tower 北京奥林匹克塔, an observation post for which Shu-E felt was too expensive to visit on a hazy weekend afternoon:
What we initially thought were cherry trees 樱花 were actually hǎitánghuā 海棠花 Chinese flowering crab-apple, according to my significant cosmic soul old lady:
Numerous (presumably) girlfriends, partners and spouses were being photographed, with the trees serving as a backdrop:
Shu-E strains to get the ideal shot. A prolific photographer, I have no clue as to what she ultimately does with all those pictures:
Beautiful Night 良宵:
It was at this point that Amber brought to my attention the mysterious message printed on the back of my hoodie:
Beijing National Stadium 国家体育场 aka the Bird's Nest 鸟巢. Since the Olympics there's been a dearth of significant events held there, but apparently it still receives enough visitors to keep it in the black:
Posing with the Chinese Academy of History 中国历史研究院 as a backdrop:
I've already noted what this is:
An interesting design in the lobby of one of the buildings bordering the park:
At home preparing to imbibe a Baby Osmanthus Pale Ale, from the Master Gao Brewing Company:
An afternoon spent strolling around Chaoyang Park 朝阳公园, Beijing's largest. Considering the gridlocked traffic and angry cacophony of blaring horns resulting from too many vehicles trying to get into the park and the adjoining SOLANA shopping center, it's fortunate we live within walking distance. The park is large enough that every time I visit it, new things (at least to me) are uncovered, such as the Sino-Thai Friendship Pavilion 中泰友谊亭:
On the grounds of a European-looking pavilion, many young women like this Cupid were being photographed by whom I assumed to be friends and partners:
Nailed it!:
One of the more disappointing outings since the last post was an excursion to Beijing's so-called Taiwan Street 台湾街:
The only highlight of this alleged "attraction" is a restaurant dedicated to the famed Taiwanse singer Teresa Teng 鄧麗君, who in her short lifetime was hugely popular throughout Asia. The Teresa Teng Music Theme Restaurant 邓丽君音乐主题餐厅, was the sole reason why my Taiwanese spouse wanted to check out Taiwan Street:
The menu included Taiwanese fishes such as Lǔròufàn 卤肉饭, braised rice with pork (on the left)…:
…and oyster omelet ézǐjiān 蚵仔煎. The food wasn't bad (bùcuò 不错, which is Chinese for "pretty good"):
The real reason for eating at the restaurant was to be serenaded by singers performing some of Teng's hits:
According to the missus, this crooner sounded exactly like the legendary chanteuse. You make the call:
The lobby of the restaurant also serves as a mini-Teresa Teng museum:
To the rear of Taiwan Street is the Beijing International Sculpture Park 北京国际雕塑公园, with its cryptic signs listing all the prohibited activities. We didn't enter:
Back to 台湾街. With a name like "Taiwan Street" I could be forgiven for expecting to see Taiwanese restaurants and shops selling soft power Taiwanese goods. Nope - the only Taiwanese-related business appeared to be the aforementioned Teresa Teng restaurant:
On the way home we drove past Tiananmen Square 天安门广场. The Gate of Heavenly Peace 天安门:
The Chairman Mao Memorial Hall 毛主席纪念堂 looming in the background of the square. Remember, nothing at all took place there on June 4, 1989:
The official Air Quality Index that afternoon was "only" 158 but appeared to be much worse:
And now for the second (mini) Immersion Week. On Monday afternoon we were driven to a neighborhood of hutongs 胡同 in the vicinity of the Bell and Drum Towers. Approaching two years of Mandarin study and I couldn't understand a word our guide said. Sorry, taxpayers:
Our destination was the Sun family courtyard 孙家小院, located near the Drum Tower:
The real owner of the house came out to judge us:
Showing off the horrifically small shoes worn by women who had had their feet bound. Foot binding is Chinese culture's equivalent to your uncle who is the black sheep of the family, i.e. that which is usually not spoken of:
We were shuffled into another room to try our hand at painting Chinese opera masks. Being the talentless artist that I am, my creation didn't look anything like the painted mask I was using as a model, which gave the final product an unintentionally unique modern art appearance. The paper cutout is of a "Double Happiness" - this one was made by following closely the instructor's demonstration. The one I tried on my own I quietly discarded after the class;
On Tuesday we were taught the basic rules of mahjong 麻将. Afterward, we were broken up into quarters to play a few rounds. Somehow I was victorious in the last game. No money changed hands:
Wednesday saw us taken to another hutong district:
What a typical interior room must have looked like during Mao Zedong's 毛泽东 period of rule:
On the way to our next destination we passed what I thought was a rip off of a Super 8 Motel. I would later discover, however, that the cheap American chain has outlets in China:
I wasn't too captivated by the Lao She Memorial Hall 老舍纪念馆, namely because I had no clue as to who Lao She 老舍 was. However, my interest was piqued by the omission that Lao's suicide was the result of the abuse he suffered at the hands of the Red Guards during the Cultural Revolution 文化大革命:
Thursday's activity involved visiting a former teacher's apartment, where we were introduced to the art of calligraphy 书法, followed by demonstration of how make dumplings 包饺子, which in turn were consumed by way of a lunch of said delicacies:
On the final day of Immersion Week we visited the Dunhuang Art Exhibition 敦煌艺术展 being held at the Beijing Minsheng Art Museum 北京民生. On display were reproductions of paintings found in the Mogao Caves 莫高窟 in Dunhuang 敦煌:
A reproduction of a reclining Buddha, 15.6 meters (54.5 feet) in length:
Copies they may be, but my interest was whetted enough that I would like to visit the caves before we leave China:
Some of the cave reproductions were reminiscent of the pharaonic tombs in the Valley of the Kings:
The museum also had on display an exhibition of contemporary Chinese art, such as Eat first, talk later 吃完了再说 (2006), Liu Xiaodong 刘小东:
He is himself - Sartre 萨特就是他自己 (1980), Zhong Ming 钟鸣:
The Shijia Hutong Museum and the Dunhuang exhibit were my highlights of that week. I had high hopes for the 789 Art Zone 798艺术区 as well, but because we spent too much time at the museum, our group could only take a brief stroll through a small part of the district, without going into any of the galleries. But at least a lot more cafes, galleries and shops were now open, compared to my and Amber's visit in mid-January, when the art zone was still reeling from the recently-lifted COVID-19 restrictions.
O-kaeri お帰り is Japanese for "welcome home" - お帰りなさい
Subsequent weekends since the conclusion of the second Immersion Week have seen us mostly staying at home and thus not doing anything of interest, with the result being that for the near future at least, there will probably be only one post a month (not that recent entries have been riveting). The final Mandarin assessments are looming in the not-too-distant future, and despite the anti-anxiety medication I've been taking (which comes with some unpleasant side effects), I'm still dreading that prospect, secure in the knowledge that I will not distinguish myself very well.
