Photo's With the White Man: The Ferret Does Beijing

I should probably open with explaining that during the time of planning this trip - an idea I've been knocking around since the NYC trip when I really began to travel the world - it was thought that Alex was to be moving abroad. He still might be, in fact, and so as a send off we both decided to try and make this the most epic adventure of our lives. Epic mission accomplished. We were blessed by a Buddhist Monk and explored the vastness of the Great Wall just a day after Tom Cruise went to the same spot (crisis averted! We avoided that short-assed scientologist prick)! I taught Alex about self-reliance and survivability by abandoning him in a country where nobody spoke a single god-damn word of English, learned how to dance the Chinese National Dance, were repeatedly stopped for photos - an idea that quickly turned into "only if we can get one of you in return," often to much giggly enthusiasm - and jumped from a 233m building living to tell the tale. Welcome to the observations from my epic journey to the kingdom of Communism and spit. 'Cos god damn do the Chinese love to spit.

1. So it only feels right to start at the beginning, with the very flight itself. Usually the airlines - especially the international ones - I've flown with have been pretty good. The food proves you can get a decent enough meal halfway up and the plane is readily pumped in with enough fresh air so that at the very least you don't notice the effects of the rising carbon dioxide concentration; that prickly, hot tingling sensation caused by its build up in the local atmosphere. Air China, however, breaks this trend. It's not that the staff are unhelpful, just that I got the distinct impression this was one of their old crafts they've had in service for the last 30 years. The food looked like old army war rations and the 'in flight entertainment' was the most useless thing I've ever come across, consisting literally of three working channels with one showing foreign films with subtitles far too small and blurry to comprehend, another displaying an in flight map, and the only English channel steadfast in its refusal to play anything but 'Twilight' on loop. Still without the desire to watch it, I instead sat there trying to nap to the ever pleasant sounds of the Chinese man next to me shaving in his seat and hawking up spit balls into his cup at creepily precise intervals. Because unlike in Korea, apparently they have no qualms about spitting with worrying frequency. I mean holy shit, should you have seen what they did to the bathroom sink. All the hawked up phlegm must have caused a blockage resulting in a collection of saliva samples a couple of inches deep. They aren't exactly the tidiest of flyers...
   
   
2. If there was one thing people seem to know about Beijing, it's the infamous smog that plagues the city. Enveloped in a thick cloud of smoke from the nearby coal power stations and everything else under the sun because nobody cares about pollution, it is so dense at times it's unreal. Air pollution is defined by a rating called PM2.5; that's particles per square metre below 2.5 micrograms. King in the USA is the city of LA, averaging a 14.8 and hitting an all time high of 43. The air quality in Beijing? It can reach well above 500. That's how fucking bad it is. No wonder everybody's spitting. Day one and Alex has saved himself with a mask and I've taken to chain smoking to improve the nearby air quality. I suspect it might have been the cause for an occasional cough and mildly sore throat that will plague my journey. Also probably why everyone else here smokes. And everyone does smoke. Barman? Eh, I can pour drinks with a fag in my mouth. Street vendor? Eh, I can fry shit whilst taking a drag. At rock night at the local live music bar? Sound check? Smoke check more like. Thank fuck for the prices of a twenty deck. I thought it was cheap in Korea but wow. A twenty deck of local smokes from a shop can run as low as 80p. I spent a fiver and got a carton duty free; that's 50p a pack. I mean holy shit. Granted they were weak as shit as it turned out but I've done a fag tour of Chinese - and one pack of Taiwanese - smokes to know which ones suck. My cigarette intake has skyrocketed due to the aforementioned price, smog, and the sheer amount of time I seem to be spending waiting for Alex to decide whether to buy another god damn souvenir, tat, trinket, knock off designer good, keyring or take another photo of a dustbin or fish in a restaurant window. No seriously, he wanted a photo of him next to a public bin. His only answer when I asked him why is "because it's Chinese."
   
   
3. But the bars on our little strip down Nanluoguxiang (try saying that when hammered at 2am) here certainly do have their own charm. Live music, nice seats, a pleasant slightly smokey atmosphere and plenty of (often cute) locals willing to have a chat, overcoming their fears of the foreigner by abusing the cheap prices of booze and buying it in large quantities. Many of the bars seem to specialise in imports at reasonable prices - reasonable being cheaper than I can buy them here - including Erdinger, Chimay and Hoegaarden. Oh, and the first bar we tried sold whisky cheaper than the lager. I mean c'mon? Hells yeah! Send over some of that Canadian Club. Oh and if you're underage? Here, have some popcorn. The only problem is that, like Singapore, a lot of bars tend not to have bathrooms, relying on the ample public facilities in the area. Which would be fine, if only they got cleaned once in a while and Alex could make his way through one god damn drink without needing a piss.
   
   
4. The pharmacies have all the usual suspects - plus some premium face masks to combat the pollution on particularly nasty days, of which Alex picked the one that made him look the most like a ninja - but what really lets you know you're in China are all the aisles devoted to various herbs in jars; herbs and holistic remedies I've never seen before; tree roots, dried leaves and god knows what else. It seems many still have faith in the old ways. Where else in the world would a trained pharmacist suggest you treat a rash by gnawing on a tree root and applying a sprinkling of dried leaves to the affected area? China...
   
   
5. And competition emerges for the title of 'Ferrets Favourite Soup.' The competitor to the Tom Yum Goong (Thai Spicy Seafood Soup) of Taman Negara (Malaysia)? Duck soup from Quanjude Qianmen. The city is the birthplace of Peking duck and this restaurant is where it all began, meaning it seemed obvious that at some point we would have to make a pilgrimage to this holy shrine of duck goodness. Standing for over 150 years, it specialises in the duck banquet to the point they don't expect anybody to order anything else; a feast involving the entire animal where no part goes to waste. It all starts with the main course, the "duck pancakes" as you may otherwise know them, initially hand fed to you by the young waitresses of course. But then it's onto the soup goldmine; liquid good enough for the gods themselves made from all the bones and bits not suitable to shove in a pancake and cooked to perfection. The flavour is incredible. I'm full from soup. I'm never full just from soup...
   
   
6. Then onto the first of the clubs. Set in Wudaokou, the heart of the student district, it wasn't long before I was surrounded by drunk Chinese girls getting off with each other - I distinctly got the impression Chinese girls aren't the greatest of drinkers - whilst I smoked and drank my two quid White Russian. It wasn't the best I've had, but what do you expect for two quid? For a little while I thought I was in heaven, but as the night wore on the sheer heat and solitary of the situation dragged on. The only person we knew, Zindaba, spent her time largely socialising with Alex - though we got on too I must admit, so there's certainly no hard feelings, it's simply that they knew each other better and we'd pretty much just met. After two more hours of this I was close to nodding off in the middle of the dance floor but Alex still refused to leave... And so I abandoned him. Miles from the guest house. I mean fucking miles. Like the other side of Beijing miles, and Beijing is fucking huge. In a country where nobody speaks English. Success! Keepin' the streak alive! With plausible justification! Even drunk and nodding off I managed to direct the cab driver to the place around the back streets. Alex? Well he needed Zindaba's help to get a taxi, her help to pronounce the station nearest to us (Nanluoguxiang, it is a bit of a mouthful), and somehow managed to navigate his way back. Even the front door was strangely ajar... But our room only has one key. My key. And I was so shattered I slept through his crying and bashing of the door. When the owner finally got up to see what the commotion was all about, she found a hammered Alex wielding a kitchen knife having tried to use it to pick the lock. What does he do to prove he isn't violent? Drunken hugging still wielding the knife. Woman probably thought he was going to rape her. And y'know what the best part is? I'm pretty sure I didn't actually lock the door...
   
   
7. In South Korea: 'This is a heritage site and must be preserved.' China? 'LOL I want to sit.' Nothing like seeing the local populace parking their asses on thousand year old wooden world heritage sites like it was a street curb and sparking a smoke. Quite often you'd find musicians adorning the heritage sites as well, playing simply because they can.
   
   
8. So being in China, it only felt appropriate to go for a traditional Chinese massage. It was the Turkish bath all over again and I still don't see the attraction to them. Why on earth do people pay to have a woman dig her knuckles into your ribs, thump your back and knead your skin like a dough? Result on my end was a stiff neck from the hard table, and Alex would complain about how she gave him a back ache back up for the next few days. It turns out the best massage I would get all trip was the impromptu shoulder massage I got in a bar from a pretty Thai girl in exchange for a couple of drinks. On reflection I'm pretty sure she was a prostitute.
   
   
9. And so it turns out it's entirely possible to accidentally walk into a school fair. In a temple one minute, surrounded by giggling school girls and confused looking teachers the next, us left thinking that this looks like a funny place to go and pay your respects to Confucius. Not that I'm exactly complaining. I'll happily try the traditional Chinese sweets you're preparing, smile for a few photos and be the recipient of a hug or two.
   
   
10. I think over in the west, the only news we really get about China is all the bad stuff. Commies! Oppressors! North Korea supporters! As a result our opinion on the populace was somewhat coloured by that fact, but now that I've spent time here, it oddly reminds me a bit of the US. If all you heard about the yanks was the Westboro baptist church, bible bashers, Jerry Springer and the habitual war-mongering you'd probably get a bad impression of the place, but in both cases I've found the people, on the whole, nothing short of a delight to spend time with. China perhaps even more so; a country with an even worse international reputation and even less deserving of it. In this cold concrete jungle; this dust bowl of a city, everyone seems to be smiling and laughing and it's infectious, and soon you can't help but smile too. Laughter breaks down all the language barriers, and even though some are wary of foreigners, many are quite the opposite, spotting you and dragging you by the arm to be in a photo. Others spot you taking a photo and simply rush in to be a part of it. Some even seem happy to try and engage in some brief conversation too, though because of the language barrier this certainly isn't all of them. It's the first country where I was frequently asked if I spoke Chinese, which offers some degree of self-reflection and my habitual expectation of everyone speaking a basic level of English as has been the case in most of my travels, with them expecting the exact same thing from me. Outside of nightlife situations, many will actually try to convey what they want to say using the tools at their disposal. Of course, speaking a decent amount of Chinese would help, though I wonder if in Shanghai it might be easier, but it's not always necessary. Just don't expect a discussion on Chinese philosophy or anything. Should I make a return, I shall have to make a far more serious attempt to learn some of the language, if only to mock Alex without his knowledge.
    
    
11. And yes, I love the girls in Beijing too. They're cute and giggly - and it's not just due to my hair, it's just how they are - friendly, bubbly (and let's not forget the skinny legs and prevalent fashion of wearing shorts smaller than my boxers, rawr) and because they don't see a lot of westerners, you can sometimes draw lots of attention from those who can overcome their wariness. Its somewhere in that sweet spot between mild xenophobia borne through homogeneity found in Japan and South Korea, and saturated commonality such as the major ex-English trading ports and expat heavy areas such as Singapore and Hong Kong. My yellow fever is definitely running rampant as the concentration of pretty women here is so god damn high, though the aforementioned yellow fever might make this view biased. Soon after the first couple of times we got stopped for photos we began requesting photos back, and i think we ended up with quite a few. The downside is that since I have long hair, some of the older generation think I'm a girl. Similar issue in dark clubs where they can't see my manliness for the mane flowing elegantly in the wind. A few street sellers asked if I was Alex's wife. I mean seriously? The fuck? I have a god damn beard.
    
    
12. I've been to Chinese markets before, but in Beijing everywhere is a market; wherever you go there seem to be street sellers; the water sellers shuffling their 24-pack behind a tree when the police come, and the Indian watch sellers somehow able to vanish without a trace, though none are as violent as the ones found in Marrakesh. Friendly street vendors. Still didn't make my job of babysitting Alex any easier, who seemed to be willing to buy anything for the right price and if he'd already bought one, seemed only capable of pointing to me and saying "he wants one." It took him days to learn all I was doing was raising a hand and saying "no" before walking on. When he realised this was all it took he seemed to treat it as some sort of magical ritual to repel the invading sellers. Oh, and if in doubt, it's fake. Pick your places off the main destinations found largely just by wandering around and you can easily pick up some good, if rather dodgy stuff. It's a bit of a lucky dip as to whether the item will last though, as Alex found out by ripping the stitching on his fake Louis Vuitton wallet in two days.
    
    
13. I am quickly coming to both love and despise the Chinese language. It's cute and beautiful when spoken, but pronunciation is a real bitch. But the problems go both ways with them saying things that make no sense to me. I relied on Google translate handily stored on my phone on more than one occasion. I mean, how the fuck do you ask for the prices on a sim card plan? My Chinese still only extends to "hello," (NiHao) "thank you," (XieXie) and "where is the bathroom" (Ce Suo Zai Nali). And I can barely say the last one correctly, especially when I've had a few drinks and I oddly need it the most. But the barrier is overall not too problematic as most people are willing to try and understand you, or at the very least will refer you to someone better at speaking English. All in all I guess I mostly love how exotic it sounds. And the cute girls making those sounds. Obviously.
    
    
14. The vast size of China becomes all the more apparent when you understand the differences in the Chinese dialect across the country. The accent varies so much people from the Sichuan province (South China) have great difficulty understanding those in Beijing. Originally, the country used to consist of seven dialects, with the written form becoming unified much later. As a result, the written language is universal but the accent remains different enough that it may as well be another language. Of course there is both Mandarin, spoken in Mainland China, and Cantonese spoken in places such as Hong Kong, but even there the written form is, to my understanding, identical. It's simply the manner it's pronounced and even with my very limited knowledge of Chinese I was able to hear the difference. The word for thank you varies from something akin to "Zee-eh Zee-eh" in Beijing to "J-air J-air" in Hong Kong. The infamous telephone call response I was told of in Hong Kong, pronounced "Why," transforms to "Way" over on the mainland, and this must surely only be scratching the surface.
    
    
15. I tried baiju, the Chinese national drink brewed in a similar manner to Japan's 'Sake' or Korea's 'Soju,' only stronger. A lot stronger. Holy. Fucking. Shit. 58 percent of headfucking. 'This is nothing' Alex says. 'This is barely a shot' he says. 'Water! Water!' He says after finally able to stop his face spasming after giving it a go. Baiju is potent shit. Expect to see some at the next house party I end up at, if only to laugh as people screw their face up at this super strength rice based vodka substance.
    
    

16. And then we went for our second clubbing adventure, to the other major district, Sanlitun (Vic's nightclub to be specific) since I could find the Legation Quarter to save my life. And thank fuck I didn't because Vic's is like some sort of semi-paradise; the kind of place you'd find the head honcho in some Korean gangster flick to frequent. Girl to guy ratio maybe 4:1. 100% Chinese, and it's as though it were populated entirely by models. It's nuts, and since the place is so damn hot you just know they're wearing as little clothing as humanly possible. What's the down side? Well, every girl is the slightly snooty, 'you better buy me a drink type.' They're absolutely stunning, but certainly not fun to be around, and at 12 quid a drink they can get fucked. Far too many people there with too much money, at least if all the tables filled with bottles of Dom Perignon Champagne and bottles of Brandy were anything to go by (who says crime doesn't pay?) So we left after a couple of hours, happy to have soaked in the atmosphere but hot and not with the bills in the back pocket. After all our club venturing, I think this next bit proves we were staying in the best bar district all along. The walk back, bars are almost empty and I suggest a nightcap. 'Are you serious' Alex says. Within seconds of getting our beers, two drunk Chinese girls are dragging us up to dance to "Gangnam Style" and teaching us how to do the national dance of China; their partners sitting at a nearby table more than happy to let us dance with them so long as it means they don't have to move. Albeit they were really fucking drunk. They weren't dressed up for the occasion, nor were they the stunners we'd seen previously, but because of their inherent friendliness I had more fun in 10mins there than in the 2 hours previous, so no shit where were going to spend our last night in Beijing tomorrow.
    
    
17. The temperature has been borderline perfect here. Hot but not so hot you need sun cream, except for one day where I ended up an little red up on the Great Wall section at Mutianyu, because the wall is so big it's divided into countless sections. This was a relatively modern and intact section a little further from the closest portion (which not only gets packed with tourists, but has had half of it removed over the years by residents pilfering building materials) that impresses on you less the endlessness of the world's wonder and more the fact that they could have easily built it around the flatter parts of the land, but instead decided to build it up and down the god damn mountains. It's always cool enough that you can keep walking with the occasional gulp of water to keep hydrated. The only down side is that, like Korea, they don't seem to value proper air conditioning or insulation, so busier bars and restaurants in particular can quickly soar to sweltering temperatures. Still, it's preferable to the Hong Kong method, but I'll get to that later. I'm amazed anyone has the energy to dance in most clubs it's so damn hot. It sometimes feels like stepping into a god damn sauna.
    
    
18. The blog post wouldn't be the same without an update of my toilets of the world. Like Korea you bin, not flush, the toilet paper. They're the eastern hole-in-the-ground type, like you'd expect of the east, and at first I thought there was a demolition man 'three seashells' thing going on because they don't seem to believe in toilet paper. Public toilets everywhere but no paper, and often no cleaner. It turns out that everyone walks around carrying paper with them, which just seems like an odd thing to do. Are people so fond of their favourite brand of shit wiper that they feel compelled to carry it around with them?
    
    
19. Before I came, I wasn't sure what to expect from the communist country. In some ways, it didn't seem too different but when you get to see it in action there are some definite things to note, and quite a lot of them are good. For one thing, everyone gets a job. No work? No money. Everyone is required to work for the betterment of the country, unlike a democratic society where people are just out for themselves. This breeds something of a unified feel; a respect for others and their property; an inherent willingness to help them due to all being 'in it together.' It breeds a nation of hard workers, because nobody ever told you what job the government would give you if you flunk all your exams. There seems to be a continual monitoring system as well, for example the airport security checks have a number of buttons on the counter to rate your satisfaction rating with that particular member of staff. It's not at odds with capitalism either, despite my initial thoughts. Just because the government can give you a job doesn't mean you can't instead work for yourself, breeding plenty of opportunities for businesses using government issued placements as a backup should the venture falter. It is in many ways a beautiful system that goes into making this place feel special amongst the places I've visited, but it's certainly not all roses. The fact that the leader is answerable to nobody breeds corruption, and any one man is liable to make mistakes. It creates a disconnect between himself and the people, the smog being a perfect example, striving forward at the expense of the health of the local population. There is no welfare or benefits for those unable to work with families having to rely on each other for support in such situations. Too, there is little in the way of free medical care, and that they block so many websites is such a joke with the entire nation seeming to be blatant in their usage of proxies to get around it; there's a common working knowledge among even the most unlikely of suspects on the topic of VPN's that towers my own; making use of 'Chinese' alternatives to things such as Google, Facebook and Twitter (E.g. "QQ" or "Baidu"). Such is the same with all countries. I don't think any one has got everything right, but China most certainly haven't got everything wrong, and there's at least as much we can learn from their system as they can learn from the West.
    
    
20. And so we sit back on the flight, a much nicer plane this time, even if they did still serve us cat food (I mean that quite literally) after having my body and particularly my ass for some reason thoroughly groped by the lady working the security at Beijing international, and it feels like the bitter end. As I gaze out the window, I lament the fact I have to leave. I've finally found my favourite spots, met some wonderful people and could happily spend another week strolling the streets and taking in the sights and the sounds, eating food on the street and getting hammered with the locals, but it is not to be. But fear not, for this is not the end! In fact this is but the midway point in my adventure, for this plane is destined for Hong Kong!
    
    

Check out Part Two Here!