
![]() |
![]() |
|
|
|
![]() |
From “Fonske” <amlozano@iies.es> Date Sunday, July 25, 2004 21:44 To “List of contacts” Subject upside down east dear all, beijing is exhausting. from within you notice the rumour of the gigantic cities all around china: avenues with huge ugly skyscrapers and hutongs, traditional neighbourhoods we have seen in the movies of the fifties. in them, threatening ruin, the chinese people live in tiny houses. from the very first moment, beijing is warm and humid, walking is difficult. nothing seems to cost its value. twenty yuans can be a fortune or nothing, depending on the bearer. you have to negotiate everything: a a rickshaw that takes us from the forbidden city to the temple of heaven surrenders when we keep us firm in twenty. bejing passes in front of our eyes in a curly road. when we are there, the driver says "thirty". we just hand in over two tens. he smiles, as if he were saying: "i had to try it". magnificient pagodas once and again, all built exactly in the same way. and of course, the great wall, from the where the mongol emperors stopped the contaminations of his customs, up to it fell down, old tired. i recall now caroline, who was in hong kong - and that simple fact started the engine of my obsolet imagination - and our mail during our trip. i think right now of her and her techno party at the great wall. somehow, i regret not to have been able to join her, that the time prevented us to pay her a visit to hong kong. nothing seems to be regular or standardin china. every measure looks brand new, just invented. often you find water wattles with 596 mililitres, or 605, or 1223. tons are 980 kilos. there are as many patterns as chineses. you should be shocked is something doesn't fit for one centimetre more or three less. that's why i'm not surprised that yesterday we get wrong with the restaurant, and instead of having dinner in the delightful spot that we previously booked, we find ourselves in the middle of a big hall, beijing version (more than kitsch) of wedding restaurant, eating duck's soup, although just sebastián had the guts to taste it. none of the waiters warned us that this was not the restaurant. i should say that beijing duck, even with plastic sticks, was delicious. i'm surprised of how they look us all these chinese. in the same way i can't identify them individually, they can't individualise us and perfectly able to isolate themselves. they dont' look each other. the people that fills every corner, every shop, every temple, moven and act as if they were alone. this seems to be the only way to keep their privacity in a country where privacity is impossible. not even in the metro, where all the trains are full, they don't look at us a group, but one by one. that's why i'm not surprised that yesterday we went wrong with the restaurant. instead of having dinner at the small and enchanting place we booked, we find ourselves in the center of a big hall, in the beijing version of wedding's celebrations (more than kitsch), eating duck's tongue soup, althought just sebastián have guts to taste it. of course, none of the waiters warn us that this was not the restaurant we had booked. on the other hand, beijing duck, even with sticks, was excellent. we stay at the harmony hotel. i'ts a nice site a few steps away from tiananmen and then railway station, hidden in a hutong surrounded by several skyscrapers. the hotel occupies one of them. for the first in our trip, everything seems to be it its right place. it's a change comparing to the movement and hot of beijing and, for instance, its buses. it's a change comparing to the attempts of the chinese to get all they can from you. a not written rule says that a chinese will tell you exactly what you want to hear and is convenient to his interest. right in front of the forbbiden city, a rickshaw driver insists for forty minutes to join him in a tour around hutongs because the park of the temple of heaven is closed for restoration. we don't pay him attention and later we find tiantin open and shining. at the central post office, they don't want to sell us stamps because we want too many and because we need two stamps per postcard (in the mind of the clerk the concept that six yuans plus four yuans is exactly the same than ten yuans doesn't seem to have room). after many phone calls, when we already were out, ran after us to tell us that the sale is authorized (...).
i know that some of you are
fond of next details, so i will mention for them. the night in beijing is
dark and narrow. in the the air in beijing, in these streets that call sanlintun, is mystical and mysterious, and it seems that we are really into it. in each corner, chinese men bet playing cards or with their own version of chess, that includes an odd piece: a cannon. a spanish girl asks us an address. she smiles and in low key, she recommends us a couple of sites with benevolent grimace, then she left moving her hips. so this is beijing, with all those colonial stories still to write, with the sharpened senses of the sailor or the traveller. i know i could be writing details and little senseless stories up to more than prudency could recommend. i know i should stop. we left madrid with a bottle of whisky dyc and we come back from pekin with one of vodka. i wonder what it means. now there's just a flight, and then madrid again. i give up writing right now. the hugs and the kisses, fonske. |
|||
![]() |
||||
![]() |
||||
![]() |
||||
![]() |
||||
![]() |
||||
![]() |
||||
|
|
||||
![]() |
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
![]() |
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
|
|
||||
![]() |
|
|
![]() |
![]() |