Beijing - Day 1 - Tiananmen

The plane from Harbin to Beijing was temperamental, jerking about in the windy skies like a Parkinson's patient. By the time the landing gear deployed, the plane was experiencing full-on convulsions. A dozen barf bags ripped opened in unison. The first sound of hurling set Vanessa off. Others followed in much the same way dominoes fall. I clutched my bag, trying to block out the audio. It didn't help that they had fed us fish.

We arrived at our hotel in one piece, if slightly lighter. I had booked the place purely on location (and price), just outside of Metro Line 2; so I was thrilled when it turned out to be a charming, comfy place – with architecture in the style of an old Chinese courtyard, inner garden, and staff in traditional dress. Check-in hit a snag when they had no idea what this “Orbitz” was we had booked with, but we got through it.

Then I was locked out of my bag. We had bought luggage locks to keep our stuff safe on the trains. Now the combination to one particular lock had decided to change itself. We tried 50 variations of the original combination but nothing. At last I was able to jimmy off the zippers that held the lock in place, a crude but effective solution. Panic concluded, we hopped on the metro and went to Tiananmen Square.

It was strange to be walking through a place I had read so much about in my study of modern Chinese history. Beyond the several books on Mao Zedong's life I have read, I have designed sections in history textbooks on the Great Leap Forward and the Cultural Revolution. Tiananmen Square is always featured prominently in these books – a gathering place for the Chinese masses to hear their godly leader. So as we approached Mao's giant hanging portrait at the far-end of the square, it didn't surprise me that I had a “Mona Lisa Moment.”

Let me explain. Da vinci is a sort of historical hero of mine. Here's a man so thoroughly gifted in both art and science, who lived such a colorful life. He was always my answer to the cliched hypothetical question: “If you could have lunch with one figure throughout human history, who would it be?” His most famous portrait, the Mona Lisa, has become its own sort of cliché. It's familiar to everyone, seen everywhere. Despite its historical significance, in many ways it has become the epitome of art mundane. Yet, many years ago, when I approached it for the first time at the Louvre, I experienced the strangest sensation. Seeing the actual portrait, not some photograph, gave me goosebumps, took my breath away.

And so it was with the giant portrait of Mao. I felt a chill just staring up at his smug, crazy-eyed face. The man killed more then 50 million people with his destructive policies, razed countless works of art and literature from existence, silenced intellectuals and anyone with an opposing voice. Not a good dude. All the same, the giant portrait of Mao on Tiananmen square has made my short-list of “Mona Lisa Moments.” Congrats Mao, you bastard.

As the sun set, we watched the official flag-lowering ceremony on the square along with hundreds of Chinese and a few foreigners. Beijing is a tourist-friendly city, with an easy-to-figure-out Metro system, plenty of signs and announcements in English, and abundant scammers waiting for a mark. We were approached by “art students” who spoke very good English and claimed to be in Beijing on holiday. While conversing, they led us through a park, and to a coffee shop. They seemed annoyed when we declined the invitation to go in – but I had read too many stories on the internet of “tea-ceremony scams” where you end up paying for things you had not signed up for. We did promise to text the students about hanging out the next day (after all, there was the small chance they were genuine) but we sort of forgot to follow-through there.

 

Our hotel: the Soluxe Courtyard, outside and lobby.

 

Vanessa, in her "snow queen" outfit, often gets asked to pose for photos with people's kids.

People keep mistaking us both for Russians. I suppose we have a bit of that look.