China Travel 2.0

We crossed to the south side of the avenue and walked toward the square.  As we did we began to encounter people who were attempting to sell us maps of Beijing.  We were well supplied with them so I just shook my head no and moved on.  As we approached the square a girl approached us, asked if we minded if she practiced her English with us and introduced herself as Grace.  This pattern would be repeated many times in Beijing as students approached us identifying themselves with Western names.

We asked Grace what she was studying.  She replied that she was studying art and English.  I could easily credit the English part as her English was quite good.  That was also true of most of the students we met as the week went on.  As we talked we entered Tian’anmen Square itself.

From northeast corner, the point at which we entered, The Forbidden City was across  Chang An Avenue on its north side to our right.  Across the square at its northwest corner is the Great Hall of the People which houses the Chinese legislature.  In what appeared to us to be the rear, or south side, was the mausoleum of Mao Zhedong.  Actually it was in the middle of the square, we were only looking at its northern half.  In the middle of that northern half was a monument to those who gave their lives in the Communist Revolution of  1949.  Just this northern half of the square was a vast open plaza.  According to the English language newspaper china Daily Tian’anmen Square is the largest in the world measuring 440,000 square meters or 63 football fields Certainly what I saw gives me no reason to dispute that.  It is so large that the Beijing Subway has separate stops for East Tian’anmen Square and West Tian’anmen Square.

On our immediate left was a building which Google Earth identifies as the Museum of the Chinese Revolution.  Grace said that some of her work, and the work of other students, was on display in there and asked if we would be interested in seeing it after we had walked around the square.  I could feel the jet lag catching up with me so I said that we should see it now before I got too tired.  We went in to the exhibit, which was in the museum, and she asked us if we wanted some tea.  After a couple of cups (I like Chinese green tea) I asked to see her paintings.  I’m no artist but I liked her paintings and said so.
She had painted four paintings of the same scene in southern China in each of the four seasons.  Would I like to buy them?  Feeling a little boxed in by my own praise for the paintings I said I didn’t have the budget for the set but I would buy the winter one, the starkness of which had caught my eye.  That turned into pressure to buy the whole set which got just intense enough to be annoying.  I did buy the winter scene but nothing else.  Then came the finale to this which convinced Cindy that this was nothing but a scam.  Grace walked us to the entrance to the museum and bid her good bye to us there.  She didn’t go with us around the square as originally planned.  I never saw Grace again but the story of our encounter with her is not quite over.  I’ll tell that part in its chronological place.

My feeling about this, and similar encounters during the rest of the week is that we were encountering mixed motives.  Apparently at this time of year China’s art schools do gather in Beijing to exhibit, and if possible sell, their work.  I think the students we encountered genuinely did want to practice their English as well as sell their paintings.  Cindy takes a darker view than this.  However, I came to China to learn and I wanted to talk to people wherever I could.  If I insisted on purity of motive I wasn’t going to talk to anyone.  However I bought no more paintings.

We encountered one more girl in the square who wanted to practice her English.  If she gave us a name I don’t remember it.  She told us in a kind of conspiratorial way that a lot of students were killed there.  We assured her that we knew, that the whole world had watched those events on television.  We also encountered the only beggar I saw in Beijing.  In New York I usually give something to the first one or two such people that I meet but having just arrived in Beijing I had nothing less than a 100 Yuan note in my pocket and I wasn’t feeling that generous so I didn’t give him anything.

I encountered the same beggar later on another day.  This time I gave him 3 Yuan.  He reacted by acting annoyed and making a cross with the index fingers of each hand.  In a few seconds I realized he was making the Chinese sign for 10.  It was the first time in my life that a beggar ever tried to bargain with me over the size of my donation.  I walked away.

At this point the jet lag had totally caught up with me.  We excused ourselves, returned to the hotel and collapsed into sleep with no alarm set.

Tags: China Beijing travel, China travel, jet lag, Roy's Trip