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In the Beijing Tourist Information Center, we met
Steven Zhang, who gave us invaluable assistance in purchasing some
cheap air tickets to Xi'an, home of the Terracotta Soldiers
on 05 JUL 2004. The price for three round-trip tickets was 4,000 ¥
($484USD) cash, which I had plenty of since I was able to charge the
train tickets, in safe storage back at the hostel. Katarena and
Enrique were using the computer in the center, free of charge, and
would stay there while I ran back. Within 15 minutes, I had made the
trip, but we had to wait a bit longer as two more sets of the
tickets had to be delivered.
It was a most agreeable wait in the air conditioned
office, and I struck up a conversation with Ruben, a young corporate
lawyer from Singapore who had schooled in London. Speaking with him
just reinforced my earlier actions of going deluxe class on the
train. He described of how he had taken one, and only one, hard
seat trip, which cured him of every traveling that class again.
“It was really bad. You had to claim your spot and
stick to it. I got up to stretch my legs and use the loo, and when I
returned, all the garbage, crap, cigarette butts, and filth had been
swept into my spot. I couldn't believe it. But as soon as someone
else got up, we moved all of it to his spot so I could sit down. And
since it was a long, all-day trip, everyone had a chance for the
growing pile to stand over. I was lucky it was small for me, but the
stench very nearly made me sick. And the spitting! I think some of
the people were getting ready to die! They would cough up their
insides in this ear-splitting, guttural sound, and spit onto that
pile of crap. You might think you paid too much for deluxe, but,
without question, it is the only way to travel by train. Good job!”
Despite the expense, I began to feel pretty good
about our tickets, both the international train and the airline.
Speaking of which, the other two sets of tickets arrived, and we
shook hands with Ruben and Steven before departing, this time
heading toward our embassy. We didn't have far to go in the burning
Sun before we entered a crowded Dongsishitiao Qiao, filled as much
with passengers as with people seeking relief from the heat.
Our plan was simple: retrace the route I had taken
earlier when going to the CANON building, and walking a short
distance to our embassy. Once again, I neglected to take into
consideration the actual distanced versus that showing on the map.
Not only did transiting on the very crowded subway take longer, it
turned out to be quite a long walk along the Jianguomenwai Dajie,
the Eastern extension of Chang'an Jie. We took refuge in the
coolness of the Friendship Store complex, which appeared to cater to
foreigners more than natives. We rejuvenated ourselves with some
Starbucks mango slush and, being uncertain of the specific location
of our embassy, proceeded to inquire a tour guide of its
whereabouts.
“Andy,” I inquired, “can you give us some direction
to the USA embassy?”
“Do I know you?” was his immediate response, and I
realized that I should have begun our conversation with an
introduction of myself.
“Please pardon me, but your tour group (Canadian high
school students} told me about you and your outstanding knowledge of
the city. I am Juanito, and these are my children, Katarena and
Enrique. We are from El Paso Texas, USA, and wanting to register at
our embassy. Can you help?”
“Well, sure,” he said, a bit friendlier. “Just go
down there (he pointed toward a gated entrance) and ask the guard.
It is close.”
We easily found the entrance, but I think he may have
just been warding us off, or maybe I just didn't hear the “d” as in
“closed”. We spent the next hour searching for an access, finding
only Chinese guards who neither smiled nor were willing to speak any
English. It was mutually perplexing. They wouldn't even speak their
own tongue, remaining mute. Indeed, they seemed to ache from the
arduous duty of ensuring that nobody could get remotely close to any
of the many embassies in this neighborhood of high walls topped with
coils of razor wire. I figured that was probably a response to
bombings of USA installations around the world, as well as the
all-encompassing raison d'état, “9-11”.
We did receive some help from two BMW salesmen,
showing their superb cars to well-moneyed Chinese in a secluded
pavilion. Besides their fluency in German, they spoke flawless
Mandarin and English, and I daresay, several other languages
as most Europeans do in the European Union. But our greatest help
came from Adam, an embassy worker, whom I was able to easily
profile.
“Hi!” I began.
“Hi!” came his response.
“That's pretty good English.” I kind of yelled at
him.
“That's because I'm from the USA. Walla Walla.” he
said. “Your English is pretty good too. Where do you call home?”
Now in better control of my volume, “We come from El
Paso, Texas. We are here on vacation. We'd like to register our
passports at the embassy. Do you know anything about it, where is
it? We've been all over this area, and have seen flags of various
countries, but where is ours?”
Showing him our map, he turned it correctly—we had
been using it upside down.
Chuckling, he said, “My name is Adam. I work in the
embassy, but you can't get in right now—we have a normal workday,
and it's afterhours. You would normally be able to come in on
Monday, but it's the Fourth of July weekend, so we won't open until
Tuesday.”
I slapped my forehead, and, with exasperation in my
voice, “ Of course, it's a holiday weekend! I'd forgotten!” I also
forgotten to introduce any of us, but, thanking him, we returned to
the Friendship Store for the loo, and we also indulged in a few
things not seen in a long time—peanut butter and marmelite—as well
as some balm for Katarena, a memory stick for Enrique, and a world
map for me.
“You know,” I said to Katarena and Enrique as we made
our way back toward the hostel, “when I posted my request for info
about the train to Moscow, I saw a sign-up sheet for the Great Wall
hike. Let's do it tomorrow, but we have to get up early. We still
have plenty of money left, and it only cost 90¥ ($10.90USD) per
person. What do you say?”
They were both familiar with the reputation of the
number one symbol of China, and were equally enthusiastic about our
making the journey. As we passed the Worker's Stadium and the
dancers in the parking lot, we simultaneously thought the same
thing: “For such an arduous hike, we need energy!” We went through
the next parking lot and into the Outback Steakhouse.
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