Breakfast at the hotel consisted of a hot rice soup that tasted a lot like oatmeal, warm milk, balls of baked bread dough, some kind of fried chicken dish, and delicious orange cakes of about an inch in diameter that I think were mostly sweet potato.  We started our day at Tiananmen Square with the Mausoleum of Mao Zedong, the Chinese political hero and founder of the People’s Republic.  In the Mausoleum, lines of spectators filtered through two chambers.  The first held a life-size statue of Mao sitting cross-legged, in front of which was a large basin.  Some of the visitors had purchased individually wrapped white flowers, which they would place in the basin after approaching the statue and performing a rigid bow. 

The second chamber contained Mao himself, preserved there since his death in 1976.  According to our tour guide (hereafter referred to as Duncan), Mao’s will called for him to be cremated, but his associates decided to preserve his body, following the examples of the Soviet Union for Lenin and Vietnam for Ho Chi Minh.  The body was encased in a pyramidal crystal case, and Mao’s face looked more like wax under the yellowed tint of artificial lighting.  As you might expect, there were no cameras or water bottles allowed inside the Mausoleum.  All conversations ceased once we entered the first chamber, rendering the building silent save for the shuffling of footsteps. 

         Next, our group walked across the length of Tiananmen Square, which turned out to be much more expansive than I had anticipated.  Various government buildings, monuments, museums, etc. surround the area, the most recognizable of which features a portrait of Mao and has a terrace that is often used for public appearances by government figureheads.  There are flowerbeds throughout the area, however they are not planted in the same soil.  Each flower is in its own pot, all of which are pushed so closely together that they appear to be in-ground.

         Most of the people on the Square were tourists, but very few were American or European.  Rather, most were rural Chinese, making a rare visit to the city.  Each group (usually 20-30 people) was distinguished from the others by its own brightly colored baseball caps, which I believe had the peoples’ hometown printed across the front.  Duncan had warned us that the rural Chinese rarely encountered foreigners and were likely to react noticeably to our presence, but I don’t think any of us were prepared to be stared at by several thousand people.  In line for the Mausoleum, where the rows snaked back and forth as far as the eye could see and were about five people deep, it was an odd feeling to have every head within 50 feet turned unabashedly towards us.  Most of the time people here observe each other with a vacant stare.  Eye contact is reserved for those who are close friends. 

Through most of the line, a party of older folks was directly behind us.  They seemed less concerned with our foreignness and more interested in ensuring that we kept pace with those ahead.  Anyone at the back of our group who paused for more than a second was likely to get his or her heels stepped on or back run into by an elderly woman.  Personal space in general seems to be much more constricted than I’m used to.  I suppose this is logical, as the population density in Beijing is far greater than in State College.

Tiananmen Square

Our next stop was the National Center for the Performing Arts, a gigantic egg-shaped structure that has four or five halls inside for various occasions (opera, philharmonic orchestra, small group, etc.).  A wide, but shallow, man-made lake surrounds the building.  The main entrance is underground, so the entryway’s glass roof actually forms the bottom of the lake.  Looking up, you can see ripples on the thin layer of water between the glass and the sky, the latter of which is unfortunately always an overcast gray color due to air pollution.  Nevertheless, it’s a beautiful sight, and the structure is one in which the Chinese rightfully take a great deal of pride.  Duncan told us that every musician in China dreams of someday playing at the Center for Performing Arts.  Despite being only three years old, it seems to have garnered much the same stigma as New York City’s Carnegie Hall.

The National Center for the Performing Arts

The National Center for the Performing Arts as viewed from its underground entrance

Lunch, and dinner later on, were very different from yesterday’s hotpot.  A lazy susan encompassed the inner are of each circular table of about ten place settings.  This surface was filled with eight or nine dishes, including rice, a salad or two, cooked zucchini, fried fish, peanut chicken, lemon chicken, beef, a soup, and tea.  There was usually enough on each dish for everyone to have at least a taste.  Dessert was cherry tomatoes and small slices of watermelon.  We could choose between soda, water, or beer to drink, but there were no free refills on any of the options.  All of the food was amazing, especially the lemon chicken. 

I’m starting to wish that I had invested more time in learning how to use chopsticks before the trip.  The restaurants we used today seemed to cater to tourists and provided forks, but the hotpot did not, and I have a feeling that most venues won’t.

In the afternoon we visited the Forbidden City, a huge area boasting of dozens of buildings (with 9,000 rooms in sum) and surrounded by a defensive moat.  The City was the residence of the Emperor and Empress, the royal advisors, and several thousand concubines and eunuchs through the end of the Chinese dynasties in the early 1900s.  It is now a museum of artifacts, structures, and gardens, all of which date back hundreds of years.  The architecture is overflowing with symbology.  Many of the decorative elements are found in patterns of nine (a special number to the Chinese), or at least occur in odd numbers.  Cranes, lions and lionesses, bats, and dragons are all featured in sculpture, painting, or tile.  A set of four pavilions each represent one of the seasons.  One structure is famously known as the place from which one of the most powerful Empresses gave birth to the sons who would become Emperors only as fa�ades to her oversight.  Artifacts illustrate the last emperor’s adaptation of Western styles under the influences of a European tutor and the coup that ended the chain of dynasties. 

Outside the Emperor’s Throne in the Forbidden City

Crowds in front of the Emperor’s throne

The ceiling of the Pavilion of Spring

Our last stop of the day was an acrobatics show, complete with laser, smoke, and light effects.  All of the acts were amazing, and reminiscent of similar performances I’ve seen in State College by troupes on tour. 

One of the acts at the acrobatics show (I snuck a photo with the flash off).  

Tomorrow we visit the Great Wall and the Olympic Garden.  More on that to come…

P.S. I’m still having trouble getting Facebook to work despite experiments with VPN.  I am able to email and IM, and should be plugged in for at least an hour sometime between 9 AM and 3 PM EST most days.  

Location: Beijing, China