Onwards to Beijing
Well, this will be short-- they don't seem to have much concern for fast and everywhere Web access here in Beijing-- perhaps info-control? In any case, I have yet to find an internet cafe, and my hotel is charging nearly $20/hour (up from 80 cents/hour in Ulaanbaatar), and the connection sucks.
In any case.
I had one more great night and evening with Glenn Mullin (billion-seller Buddhist author ex-pat Canadian), talking about our future symposium at Smith on the rebirth of Buddhism in Mondolia. We were also joined by a another schemer on the project, Lhagvademchig, and then the evening (and vodka) wore on and artists, film makers (one working with National Geo and one with NHK), academics and a few others joined us. . . I called it an early night 'cause of my 8:05 am train, and perhaps best that I did so as the night looked to continue on.
The train was a joy to get on-- after six days on the first part from Moscow to
Ulaanbaatar, it almost felt like home. . . and lo and behold, I even had the same conductor!! And, again, tho the train had more passengers than before, I had a first-class two-berth to myself. Two days felt like too short a time for sleeping and catching up, but what can you do?
The diner car was incredible! Carved wood everything in Mongolian motif (pics later), great staff, and good cold beer. Alas, when I got up in the morning the car had changed and I now had a fairly sterile Chinese car with old-school surly Chinese staff. Sneered at my Mongolian money--bad blood 'tween these peoples, for good reason on both sides. . . nothing in Beijing even mentions the fact that it was Khubalai Khan that founded the city with its broad avenues (mostly for the galloping Mongol horses), and nothing in the massively massive Forbidden City (now the Palace Museum, site of the former Imperial Palace) mentions that it was Khubalai who originally built the "Forbidden City" as a Mongolian refuge in the middle of the newly built capital, where only Mongols could enter and they lived nomad-like in their beloved gers/yurts. . .
No border laughter like last time. . . tho, because the rails are different guage in China and Russia/Mongolia, they actually spent about three hours lifting our cars up on jacks and *changing* the wheels! That was impressive. The customs folks freaked a bit when they found my Russian book on the Mongolian temple in St. Petersburg w/ a picture of a Tibetan monk on the cover. . . assumed that I must be covert for the Dalia-clique, likely trying to snuff the Olympic torch. So they questioned me and searched all printed material fairly carefully (they missed the 2 kilos of coke, fourteen illegal Mexicans, and four brothels that I had stowed under the bunk), and in the end let me go.
Beijing is wonderful-- a complete change from the rubble and concrete and dust of Mongolia. All new and wonderful and fancy w/ "Olympic face" everywhere. Nonetheless, there is a stark difference 'tween the completely modern and forward-looking folk of Ulaanbaatar and the urbanites of Beijing, who still feel a bit like they are in a fifties movie. Even in fashion, the long-legged hotties of Russia are no more, and the tight-jeaned Britany-belly girls of Mongolia are also sorely missed. Everybody is very sincere, sort of like 
earnest university students bent on furthering self and nation, sort of nerdy-sweet old fashioned looking. And as far as I can tell, Beijing shuts down around 10:30. I am sure that there is a lot I don't know yet, but so far the long arm of Mao is still lurching about. . .
And the joint is hoppin' for the Olympics! Everything is spruced up or on its
way, the TV regularly has public-service spots showing how to help old people across the street, prohibiting spitting in public places, exhorting smiling, and the like. Otherwise it is news spots on the progress of the torch. . . and let's not forget the omnipresent mascots:
Beibei is the Fish, Jingjing is the Panda, Huanhuan is
the Olympic Flame, Yingying is the Tibetan Antelope and Nini is the Swallow. When you put their names together -- Bei Jing Huan Ying Ni -- they say "Welcome to Beijing." They will close me down for this copyright infringement, as they are trying really hard to show the world that they can respect that sort of thing. . . yeah, sure. . . I bought my Olympic crap off the street for a buck or two. In the stores they have everything from T-shirts and keychains to $5,000 commemorative coins, five-foot tall cloisone Olympic vases, stuffed mascots, and more.
Of course the earthquake also gets a lot of press. . . I hate to be an ass, but between the Olympics and a national tragedy the media is working it for all its worth in terms of national image. I wanna be a big fat panda!
Things are a bit cheaper here, so that is good. . . I swore off buying more crap that I don't need, but I am now filling up on it. . . Olympic rip-off hats, Olympic glow-in-the-dark electro spin tops, Mao-this and Mao-that. . .
And finally, the greatest thing of all! My hotel, for $93/night, turns out to be a really great and even luxerious joint! Nearly five-star, I would say. Huge king-sized bed, amenities up the wazoo, about ten huge restaraunts, free gym (I am so Panda-fat from all the beer I can hardly move) and sauna, and just about
everything one could want, including central location about ten minutes walk from Tienanmen, Forbidden 
Palace, the shopping districts, and all that. The only downside is that in the hotel everything is way, way overpriced (to make up for the cheapo internet rate)? The beer that in the store costs about fifty cents, about a buck or so in most restaraunts, costs $7 in the hotel, and I can't afford the restaraunts. Which, of course, is just fine because I am slowly getting used to the city (figured out the subway today) and have taken to getting lost in small weird neighborhoods 
stolling, eating and drinking. . . today got invited into a majhong game (which I don't understand) by some 
totally earthy kind of sweaty guys and swillin' mamas. . . they forced me to smoke foul cigarettes and drink skanky Chinese bootleg something. . . probably full of lead. Oh well.
OK, enough. This will cost me two days of drinking budget!!
I'll be back in a few days-- look forward to seeing you all!!!
PS-- I am about too old for this solo travel. . . after a lifetime of it, from now on I am dragging Maki, even if she wants to go to Europe more than Asia!!
Well, this will be short-- they don't seem to have much concern for fast and everywhere Web access here in Beijing-- perhaps info-control? In any case, I have yet to find an internet cafe, and my hotel is charging nearly $20/hour (up from 80 cents/hour in Ulaanbaatar), and the connection sucks.
In any case.
I had one more great night and evening with Glenn Mullin (billion-seller Buddhist author ex-pat Canadian), talking about our future symposium at Smith on the rebirth of Buddhism in Mondolia. We were also joined by a another schemer on the project, Lhagvademchig, and then the evening (and vodka) wore on and artists, film makers (one working with National Geo and one with NHK), academics and a few others joined us. . . I called it an early night 'cause of my 8:05 am train, and perhaps best that I did so as the night looked to continue on.
The train was a joy to get on-- after six days on the first part from Moscow to
Ulaanbaatar, it almost felt like home. . . and lo and behold, I even had the same conductor!! And, again, tho the train had more passengers than before, I had a first-class two-berth to myself. Two days felt like too short a time for sleeping and catching up, but what can you do?
The diner car was incredible! Carved wood everything in Mongolian motif (pics later), great staff, and good cold beer. Alas, when I got up in the morning the car had changed and I now had a fairly sterile Chinese car with old-school surly Chinese staff. Sneered at my Mongolian money--bad blood 'tween these peoples, for good reason on both sides. . . nothing in Beijing even mentions the fact that it was Khubalai Khan that founded the city with its broad avenues (mostly for the galloping Mongol horses), and nothing in the massively massive Forbidden City (now the Palace Museum, site of the former Imperial Palace) mentions that it was Khubalai who originally built the "Forbidden City" as a Mongolian refuge in the middle of the newly built capital, where only Mongols could enter and they lived nomad-like in their beloved gers/yurts. . .
No border laughter like last time. . . tho, because the rails are different guage in China and Russia/Mongolia, they actually spent about three hours lifting our cars up on jacks and *changing* the wheels! That was impressive. The customs folks freaked a bit when they found my Russian book on the Mongolian temple in St. Petersburg w/ a picture of a Tibetan monk on the cover. . . assumed that I must be covert for the Dalia-clique, likely trying to snuff the Olympic torch. So they questioned me and searched all printed material fairly carefully (they missed the 2 kilos of coke, fourteen illegal Mexicans, and four brothels that I had stowed under the bunk), and in the end let me go.
Beijing is wonderful-- a complete change from the rubble and concrete and dust of Mongolia. All new and wonderful and fancy w/ "Olympic face" everywhere. Nonetheless, there is a stark difference 'tween the completely modern and forward-looking folk of Ulaanbaatar and the urbanites of Beijing, who still feel a bit like they are in a fifties movie. Even in fashion, the long-legged hotties of Russia are no more, and the tight-jeaned Britany-belly girls of Mongolia are also sorely missed. Everybody is very sincere, sort of like 
earnest university students bent on furthering self and nation, sort of nerdy-sweet old fashioned looking. And as far as I can tell, Beijing shuts down around 10:30. I am sure that there is a lot I don't know yet, but so far the long arm of Mao is still lurching about. . .And the joint is hoppin' for the Olympics! Everything is spruced up or on its
way, the TV regularly has public-service spots showing how to help old people across the street, prohibiting spitting in public places, exhorting smiling, and the like. Otherwise it is news spots on the progress of the torch. . . and let's not forget the omnipresent mascots:Beibei is the Fish, Jingjing is the Panda, Huanhuan is
the Olympic Flame, Yingying is the Tibetan Antelope and Nini is the Swallow. When you put their names together -- Bei Jing Huan Ying Ni -- they say "Welcome to Beijing." They will close me down for this copyright infringement, as they are trying really hard to show the world that they can respect that sort of thing. . . yeah, sure. . . I bought my Olympic crap off the street for a buck or two. In the stores they have everything from T-shirts and keychains to $5,000 commemorative coins, five-foot tall cloisone Olympic vases, stuffed mascots, and more.Of course the earthquake also gets a lot of press. . . I hate to be an ass, but between the Olympics and a national tragedy the media is working it for all its worth in terms of national image. I wanna be a big fat panda!
Things are a bit cheaper here, so that is good. . . I swore off buying more crap that I don't need, but I am now filling up on it. . . Olympic rip-off hats, Olympic glow-in-the-dark electro spin tops, Mao-this and Mao-that. . .
And finally, the greatest thing of all! My hotel, for $93/night, turns out to be a really great and even luxerious joint! Nearly five-star, I would say. Huge king-sized bed, amenities up the wazoo, about ten huge restaraunts, free gym (I am so Panda-fat from all the beer I can hardly move) and sauna, and just about
everything one could want, including central location about ten minutes walk from Tienanmen, Forbidden 
Palace, the shopping districts, and all that. The only downside is that in the hotel everything is way, way overpriced (to make up for the cheapo internet rate)? The beer that in the store costs about fifty cents, about a buck or so in most restaraunts, costs $7 in the hotel, and I can't afford the restaraunts. Which, of course, is just fine because I am slowly getting used to the city (figured out the subway today) and have taken to getting lost in small weird neighborhoods 
stolling, eating and drinking. . . today got invited into a majhong game (which I don't understand) by some 
totally earthy kind of sweaty guys and swillin' mamas. . . they forced me to smoke foul cigarettes and drink skanky Chinese bootleg something. . . probably full of lead. Oh well.OK, enough. This will cost me two days of drinking budget!!
I'll be back in a few days-- look forward to seeing you all!!!
PS-- I am about too old for this solo travel. . . after a lifetime of it, from now on I am dragging Maki, even if she wants to go to Europe more than Asia!!
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