Beijing Diary(1) by Chrissy

August 2009

The flight to China was fine and relatively uneventful. They fed us a breakfast of fried rice and a brownie. I thought I’d sleep but didn’t.

The Beijing airport made us long for the ease of Incheon. After disembarkation (I’ve been wanting to use that word for a while), we all waited and waited behind a quarantine line. This was similar to when we got to Incheon on the day of our arrival and had our temperatures taken. However, no one seemed to be paying attention to us at all.

While we were standing there, a short, young guy came up and asked me at what hostel I was staying. I explained a little about what was happening, and this friendly, yet loquacious man, talked my ear off. He was from Canada and just graduated from college and was teaching English for a year in Seoul to get money to pay off student loans. The trip to Korea was the first country other than Canada, and his trip to China marked a third country. He asked another group in front of us what hostel they were going to, and they too were not going to a hostel. I suggested asking people in the taxi line. He said that was a good idea.

Finally we were led through the gates to a place that put a universal stamp that said my temperature was 37 degrees Celsius. Then I had to carry the sheet of paper to another person waiting at the end of the corridor. Then we waited in line for immigration. I was originally in line with Dad and YK (Hyun got held up), but then I bailed for another line. Then the race was on. Their line was shorter but denser, while my line was longer but had fewer people. In the end, I won. You were given the option of pushing a button to rate the screener at the end of the screening. I pushed the excellent button. YK pushed the slow button.

There was no Customs in the airport, which struck us all as odd.

We were picked up at the airport by a man named Xuesong. I had not met him before, but he and his wife Aihua are partners of campwww. Xuesong drove us to the apartment that was no longer an apartment. Apparently, two weeks before, YK had made a reservation for a three bedroom apartment. Two weeks later, the apartment complex was now a hotel. So, instead of a three bedroom apartment with a kitchen and laundry facilities, we were offered a two bedroom and an office. However, they were really pressing to give us a two bedroom without an office. We took it, so Hyun and I are roommates.

The hotel room is on the 17^th floor, but the view is no where near as nice as the view in Seoul. The area is not as nice and it is surrounded by high rise apartment buildings, but also, the air in Beijing is grey. It’s like the city is covered in a haze. It’s not quite fog or clouds, because you can see both move, but it’s just grey. Also, Beijing is warm. Not as hot as Seoul, but close to hot.

The cool thing about this hotel building is that it is one of the host places of The FISM World Championships of Magic. Yes, we are surrounded by magicians. Even if they aren’t magicians, they are to us. It has been a reoccurring joke that if someone is late or missing, a magician made them disappear.

We got settled in the hotel room, and picked Aihua up on the side of the road to go to lunch. Lunch was at a modern Chinese place. We had a feast of sweet and sour shrimp, and just when I thought I couldn’t eat anymore, Aihua ordered three different types of mandu. It was a great welcome to Beijing. Since then, YK has to keep telling them not to order too much.

Stuffed, we were dropped off around the corner at a little thing called “The Bird’s Nest”. Yes, the Olympic stadium was right around the corner from our hotel. We walked back after we toured the area. Dad took this great picture of me, The Bird’s Nest, and a random Chinese man.

Xuesong and Aihua picked us up after a break and took us to an excellent dinner spot known for meat on sticks. We had plenty of meat on sticks. The three men had one kind, while the three women had another. There was also great lamb and good old Chinese whiskey with dinner.

When I was in China last, Yanji to be particular, I had a massage. I have been looking forward to getting massages in China ever since. So, when Xuesong and Aihua gave us the option of going somewhere to drink more or get foot massages, the latter option was the obvious choice.

The six of us were taken to a room of six lounge chairs. At the end of the room was a giant TV and sound system. I never did find out why that was there. Each chair felt like a cloud and the softness, the full bellies, and the whiskey helped us relax easily. The three women had male masseurs and the three men had female masseuses. After they removed a portion of our couches, a sink was reveled where our feet were washed with herbs. Then the others started to get a suction treatment. Each therapist had a big cotton swab that was on fire. They put a very little bowl, like a mini fishbowl, and then the bowl was quickly put on the bottom of the foot and moved around. My guess is that the fire burned the oxygen, which created the suction. It was interesting to watch.

When I heard we were getting foot massages I was very excited because I was sure he was going to appreciate my somewhat new pedicure. Instead, while the others were getting this suction treatment, he was unhappy with the bottom of my feet and took out a razor and started going to town on the bottom of my feet. It didn’t hurt, but you would be amazed at how much he chopped off. It was a tad embarrassing, but then he started doing it to Aihua’s feet too.

Eventually, I got to the suction part. The suction was followed by the rubbing and massaging of our feet and legs. Some parts were really painful, but it was wonderful. Pretty soon Dad was asleep and snoring. The massage was great. Just when I thought it was done, we turned around and sat cross-legged and got back massages. It was pampering at its best.

This picture below was the sign for the place. The big yellow symbol is actually the Chinese character for feet, but they have added a smiley face and made the bottom of the character feet as well. Very clever.

Beijing Diaries(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)