Beijing Diary(2) by Chrissy

August 2009

Beijing driving is nuts. Here, the lines are just a suggestion and cars weave in and out on a moments notice or just drift for the sake of it. Frequently they even straddle the line as if they are just waiting to decide what they want to do. Turn signals almost don’t count and horns are used constantly. Most roads are like mini highways. There is a bike lane, which is closest to the curb, then a little fence, then a single lane for drop off or going to a store, then there is another fence. Finally, then there are about three lanes of traffic in one direction and then another fence before the exact mirror image happens on the other side. These fences are to prohibit jaywalkers or driving where you shouldn’t be. There are pedestrian bridges and crosswalks everywhere.

Also, another major difference is the toilet situation here. In Korea, I was lucky to find Western toilets all of the times and toilet paper most of the time. In China, most of the toilets are Asian toilets and more often than not, there is no toilet paper or soap. An Asian toilet is like a glorified porcelain hole in the group, and though it must be easy for a guy to use, a woman must squat down as low as possible and pull their pants forward to avoid an accident. The rest of the trip is now BYOTPAHS (and hand sanitizer).

Lunch was an experience. Since YK has gone to Beijing so many times, Xuesong and Aihua try to find new places to bring her. This place was definitely unique. We came inside and walked into another room where there was a small pond with giant fish swimming around. Most every store that sells fish has a tank or seven, and since we went to the aquarium, another ongoing joke is “look, an aquarium!” Soon, one of the fish in the pond, a two-foot-long catfish, was sitting right next to me all chopped up and ready to be cooked.

There was a lid on the table, and when it was removed a giant wok was revealed. A man came over with a bunch of raw ingredients and just like the table-side guacamole makers at a Mexican restaurant, this man made a huge wok of catfish and tofu stew. Of course, Xuesong ordered tons of other plates of food, and when I was stuffed and all the fish was gone from the stew, the waitress made a whole other stew with the same broth by adding lettuce, two types of mushrooms and potatoes. It was so good.

Xuesong, Dad, YK, and I went to the original Summer Palace. The original Summer Palace was burned down years ago and spent three full days burning before it stopped. That’s how big the grounds are. Now the palace itself is gone, but they have recreated the gardens and redone a lot of the ruins. It was beautiful. There were huge ponds with giant lily pads, and ruins everywhere. One major highlight was a maze. The walls were about four feet high and in the center of the maze was a little pagoda. We figured out the maze after a little confusion.

Tired, we swung by and picked up Hyun and had to kill some more time before dinner. What did we do? Got a massage, of course. This time, however, it was different than any massage I have ever gotten. YK, Dad and I were in one room while Hyun and Xuesong were in another. Fully clothed, we lay down on tables and were given a ridiculously deep tissue massage. My lady looked very young, and her fingers were like needles. She also used her pointy elbows and leaned with all her body weight into me. I was lucky that my face was down so she couldn’t see the faces that I was making. I was thinking of saying something, but I didn’t know what to say and I figured that she was a pro and maybe I needed that kind of pressure. Lastly, it felt great once she stopped working on a particular area.

Soon I heard snoring and figured Dad had fallen asleep. I was wondering what kind of massage he was getting because there was no way that anyone could sleep through my massage. Also, parts of my neck and shoulders were still sore from the last foot massage, so bits were agonizing.

We then were instructed to flip over, and she massaged my face and head. She rubbed all over my forehead, and then pinched my eyebrows from end to end. Then she spent about 6 minutes on my ears alone. She massaged my earlobes, pinched the cartilage, and rubbed up and down on my ears. She then moved on to my stomach, which she kneaded like bread, and then my arms and legs. It was fascinating to see that she did not massage my feet at all.

This place was also very loud. I could hear the suction cups of someone’s foot massage through the wall, and when all three ladies in the room were smacking our backs, it was like a symphony.

When we regrouped and were finally able to share our experiences, they all seemed to have been similar. I asked Dad how he was able to sleep through such pain, and he said, “Are you kidding me? I just didn’t want to be the first one to scream!” Xuesong then came out and I noticed that his pants were rolled up. My guess is that he was the one getting the foot massage next door and he was the snorer.

We picked up Aihua and went to a Korean Chinese restaurant for dinner. This place’s claim to fame was their giant beer servers. We got a five-liter cylinder and it had a spout at the bottom. Hyun used the beer to demonstrate TPR (Total Physical Response).

Hyun, Be happy!

Hyun, Be sad!

The food was the spiciest meal of the trip. There was meat on sticks and spicy fish. It also had some dishes that were not as delicious to us as most. One was a dried fish that was hard for us to eat. YK said that it was an acquired taste.

Stuffed, Xuesong asked me if I wanted corn noodle soup. Three years ago, when we were in Yanji, China, I was introduced to a dish called corn noodle soup. It was a thin noodle in a spicy broth with cucumbers and an egg. It was a simple dish that was simply delicious. It was also really cheap at 6 Yuan (8 Yuan was about a dollar then). This dish isn’t just anywhere because it is a Chinese Korean fusion dish and Yanji is very much a Chinese Korean fusion city. However, this restaurant was a Chinese Korean fusion restaurant, and when Xuesong asked me if I wanted it, I had to say yes. My exact words were “Yes, I’d love to share some.” He ordered five bowls. This corn noodle soup was spicier than normal and instead of egg, it had beef, but it was delicious. Also, I was told that the price was nowhere near as good as it was in Yanji. I was so stuffed and it was so spicy that I ate slowly, but Xuesong helped Aihua and me out. They wrote down the name of the soup in Chinese so I can again begin my quest of finding this soup in LA.

We stopped for coffee after dinner at a little Starbucks-esque coffee place. I didn’t dare order a caffeinated beverage because it would affect my sleeping, so I got an iced hot chocolate. While we were waiting for the coffee, I saw a sudoku in a Korean newspaper that YK had grabbed. I started to do it, and Aihua and Xuesong asked me how it worked. I showed them, and they were hooked. We didn’t hear from them until they finished the puzzle.

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