Beijing...

After spending two weeks in the warm climes of Australia, New Zealand and Singapore, I got a bit of a shock when walking through jetway I was blasted with what seened like an icy cold wind. The gig was up. Fortunately, I had packed my hat, gloves, scarf and boots -- but this was in preparation for the winter in Lesotho in Southern Africa, not for China. I actually new it might be cold in March but I had dismissed or, more accurately, repressed any notion of cold weather after my summer in Australia and NZ. Wrong.

In fact, the first experience in Chinas was there was no way to escape this freezing corridor as the door to the terminal was sealed shut -- at 3 in the afternoon. I had decided for sure that the Chinese health authorities had quarantined our plane because they caught on to my minuscule cough. As you can imagine, the jetway quickly filled with more than 200 people -- who, I might add, included mostly impatient Chinese and a few Westerners who were too fearful to speak up. As the minutes ticked by, the atmosphere became more and more agitated and the bones became considerably colder.

Finally, it emerged that this was an innocent mistake -- a horrified clerk came running up and opened the door apologizing profusely in Chinese to a very impolite and unappreciative crowd. But, alas, I was in Beijing -- a very cold, grey, stark place that felt like the communist capital I had read about in the media.

I only had two days and decided that I would first see the legendary Tiananmen Square, the Hall of the People and the Forbidden City all of which are located together within one extended complex. As it happens, I was there during the annual communist party meeting so it was FULL of security, road blocks etc. This certainly helped paint an image of Tiananmen Square as it might have been in 1989 during the student protests. But there were no protests to be seen though we know they're happening in the hinterlands and on the internet -- as the battle between Google and China has illuminated.

I made it back to my hotel that evening though with a few challenges as I had gotten myself turned around a bit. Between a few nods and gestures from a guard when I showed him my map and a persistent offer for a rickshaw ride from a guy trying to make a yuan, I made it back to the hotel which was actually very nearby.

So for the first 24 hours everything was dreary and gray. But as in many hotels in China this one, too, was attached to a mall. And here, the communist party meetings were very far away indeed. Although I was searching for a place to eat, I was enmeshed in 10 floors of name brand sub-stores all within one big department store. While I have seen similar set-ups in Macy's with Gucci, Izod or whatever, China takes this to a new art form. Virtually, every department store is a brand sales experience of mammoth proportions. I did see one small corner tucked away on an upper floor with regular ladies bras etc but that was it within this 10 story shopping behemoth. In China, it's all about the brand. So there is at least one way to escape the drab existence of Beijing.

And then, there's also nature. As it turned out, the gray, dreary day turned overnight into a small snow storm that blanketed the entire city and surrounding countryside with about 5 inches of fluffy, glistening snow. As you all know, snow usually does the trick (as long as it doesn't turn to slush) and everything felt considerable more bright, vibrant and alive.

So what did my second day have in hold for me on this sun and snow drenched morning? Well, I was scheduled to see the Great Wall. Into the knapsack went the scarf, gloves and hat. And, onto my feet of course, went the hiking boots. After about a 2 hour journey, we came upon the Great Wall (and it is every bit as great as the photos you see) and after about a 15 minute lecture, the guide said "go hike, I'll meet you here." And so I did. It was actually a lot of fun -- pulling myself along the ice and snow covered steps among thousands of other travelers, few of whom were from the West. It seemed that most of the tourists were Chinese and other south and south east Asianers. In any event, it was an exhilarating experience (cleared out my lungs for sure) and I was fortunate that at the end, I was able to buy a real Chinese made t-shirt with a picture of the wall draped in snow that says I climbed the Great Wall. I also got a certification that I climbed the wall which, by the way, was paid for in advance of climbing. They're prepared to capture your tourist dollars at every turn.

Speaking of which, one other little amusing parts of Beijing was the tour to the medicine doctor who was kind enough to offer a natural alternative to flow max (based on a diagnosis he made by taking my pulse), and an opportunity to buy jade and cloisonne at factories the size of 10 football fields. But the highlight I say in jest was a one-on-one class on the tea ceremony with a stunningly beautiful Chinese woman who used all over her power to sell me tea. It actually worked a little (I write this chuckling to myself.) I wound up buying two small containers of teas that I liked during the tasting. Plus they threw in the ultimate bonus as a special gift -- a "pee man." Yes, you read this correctly. They have a "pee man" that is part of their gig. This is a ceramic little dude who pees up in the air when you pour very hot water on him. Don't ask if there is any significance to this. There's not. It's simply part of the new Chinese capitalism. They'll sell anything that moves -- in this case a Japanese invention -- the "pee man."

Any of you who come over for tea when I'm back in San Francisco, will get a chance to see him in action :)

On that note, it's time to say good-bye to Beijing and hello to the Arabian Gulf in my next postings