(For)Bidden

On another beautiful, sunny day in Beijing, we set out for the Forbidden City.  It was fun, seeing it again less than 12 hours later, wreathed in light instead of darkness.  We began our exploration at Tiananmen Square, which was already baking in the morning sun and filled with tourists.  

Before this trip, I always pictured tourists at Yale as groups from China and tourists in China as groups of middle-aged Westerners wearing supportive sneakers and fanny packs.  But the truth is somewhere in between, isn't it?  There are both kinds of tourists everywhere.  And in China, a huge portion of the tourists are other Chinese people.  It's fun to watch them grow wide-eyed the same way that we do.

Anyway, back to the baking heat.  We were herded to one side, pacing restlessly in the heat and trying to ignore the people hawking wares aggressively on the fringes of each group.  Slowly people began to give in and a huge number of people bought the communist hats.  I'm not sure I would be comfortable wearing that around, either here or in the US.  But to each their own.  We ducked into the underground passageway leading from Tiananmen Square to the Forbidden City and entered the large gate.  

Huge open squares with sequential buildings and splendor stretched out in front of us.  It was difficult to take in the scope of our surroundings, from the height and breadth of the buildings to the expansive squares to the sheer number of tourists meandering through the complex.  The yellow roofs - yellow being the imperial color - stretched into the distance on either side.  Chinese lion sculptures guarded the staircases.  A giant sundial announced, according to the description, the emperor's complete control over time.  While the Forbidden City was beautiful, it was exhausting being chased by people who wanted photos.  Being separated from the group was a bit terrifying, because people would sort of mob me at odd moments.  I've realized that it's best to stay with one of the Chinese Glee Clubbers, because then people know they can ask for a picture and are usually more respectful.

The afternoon was spent preparing for our only Beijing concert, where we would perform Beethoven's Ninth in collaboration with the Central Conservatory of Music.  Our performance venue is apparently dubbed The Egg, since it looks like half of one.  Our rehearsal was about as unproductive as the one yesterday - two run throughs with no real corrections - and we left unsatisfied.  But the concert itself was better than expected. The choir contribution followed two piano concertos performed by a Juilliard graduate who was incredible, then the first three movements of the Beethoven.  The choir is called in during the final movement to swell the orchestra sound to still-greater volumes.  Only singing the last half hour of a three-hour concert has its perks (getting to be an audience member of sorts for once) and its complications (being visible to the audience for 2.5 hours while not singing and being accountable for all of one's actions during that period of time, especially falling asleep).

After the concert, the Glee Club departed for the hotel, but I struck out on my own and found a taxi (it's own struggle).  I was off to meet up with a friend of a friend who I hadn't seen in over a decade.  But no matter, it's always good to see a friendly face in a stranger city.  I sped off through the city, the neon lights of downtown skimming by on either side.  

A modern art installation downtown with different sizes of lightbulbs

While we have seen the ancient offerings of the city, we have spent no significant time in the flashy, modern downtown.  It stood in stark contrast to my morning I the Forbidden City.  Anyway, I met up with the friend-of-a-friend (luckily we still look like our middle school selves) and we went to a rooftop bar to grab a drink.  They even had a mocktail menu!  We ordered, then caught up like old friends and had a really great discussion about what it's like to work at a start-up in China.  The drinks never came, but we didn't notice until over an hour later.  We both had early mornings, so we parted with a hug and a mad dash to the taxi cabs.

In keeping with my taxi driver luck, I spent my forty minute ride across the entire city with a fabulous taxi driver who didn't speak a lick of English.  We haggled, we joked, we taught each other about our countries, he pointed out monuments, I asked about fast food chains (KFC and McDonalds make a killing here).  We got lost and then found, laughing the whole time.  When I got out to leave, he grabbed my hand and kissed it.  It had been an interesting night.

Spotted: In the spirit of the I <3 NY shirts, Beijing has made its own version.  The shortened nickname for Beijing? BJ.  So the shirts say I <3 BJ, and they seem quite popular here.  You gotta love the city pride, and the international appeal of cheap humor.

Heard: In addition to being a secret brothel (Beau informed me this is a common aspect of karaoke bars), our hotel apparently offers "happy endings" at the end of massages.  This place get more X-rated by the day.