donger need food.

Wǒ Hēn Hǎo. Nī Ne?

Driver: “Hello sir, how are you?”
Passenger: “I’m doing fine, how about yourself?”

It was only after about five minutes of utter silence in the airy cabin of that dark green Audi A6L that I realized this was the only English that the driver could speak. He had on a plain white shirt and simple black slacks when he greeted me and my lovely airport guide (courtesy China World Hotel) in that hot and humid underground parking garage. Upon disembarking from the plane, I was quite surprised actually, to see my name scratched in bold felt tip glory held up by the young female greeter. I thought non-passengers weren’t allowed into the gate area? I guess it’s different out here in PEK. Nevertheless, it was nice to be confronted with a friendly smile and a cute face after the semi-friendly and not entirely attractive flight attendants on the oversea United Airlines flight. (Well, attractive in a small-town cornfield Iowa mid- to late-forties kinda way.) The dark blue business suit fit the young Chinese woman’s small frame well, barely disguising her down-to-business attitude and brisk pace as she hustled me through the airport. Her plans were foiled, however, upon realizing that this unprepared Beijing newbie didn’t have a pen. Nor did he have his customs card filled out. (As I filled out the card, I can just sense her frustration growing). But with a smile, she handed me her pink colored blue ballpoint pen and waited patiently for me on the other side of the customs gate. Her English, although a bit rough, was quite good…it certainly made for a nice welcome to the capital of the PRC.

Walking me across the street to the parking garage introduced me to the pedestrian ways of Beijing: unfaltering, she walked straight into the street, forcing a quickly approaching cab driver to stab at the brakes. (A situation that I became quite adept at tackling on my daily 15-minute walk of madness from the hotel to the office building.) With a (admittedly forced) smile, she introduced me to the driver, handed me papers to sign, and off I went. Farewell indeed.

The Monday afternoon rush hour traffic in Beijing is quite the snarl. The 30-something kilometer ride from the airport to the hotel took about two hours, crawling along highways packed with vehicles jockeying for position. The city wasn’t as I had expected – it was quite the bustling metropolis, with large office buildings popping up everywhere. Frommer’s was right: Go to Beijing now. Construction was rampant, with aging buildings being torn down to make way for new ones, and a skyline that looks no older than a decade. (I wonder what Shanghai looks like?) The changes were obvious preparations for the 2008 Olympics, and I was glad to find out later that several historical sites were protected from the commercial makeover. Although a tour through the city will reveal a multitude of old neighborhoods being taken down (by hand, mind you…I saw a group of men pulling down a 40 foot tree with a rope!)

Amidst all the chaos and constantly changing landscape, one thing stuck out in my mind: the sheer number of people. Everywhere you went, there were crowds; young, old, happy, sad… And to have any hope of being heard amongst the throes of a million voices and the angry din of a million cars, you had to raise your voice, a trait that helps to easily distinguish the Beijing natives from outsiders.

But sitting in the leather-lined back seat of the stretch mid-luxury vehicle from Ingolstadt, imagining how pleasant it would have been if I spoke fluent Mandarin, it’s hard to imagine the world outside my tinted window. Instead, I sit back and start preparing myself for the gluttony of dishes that await in mainland China…

posted by VirtualErn @ 10:05 AM

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