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June 11, 2005
Day Two - Temple of Heaven Park
Another gray, cloudy day that started with breakfast in the hotel cafe. We got a later start today, mostly because after posting yesterday's entry, I went back to bed and slept a few more hours. Jet lag really, really stinks.
Anyway, we cabbed down to Tiantan Park. The cab ride is kind of important to note: Clean, new car, bright white seat covers, air conditioning on and no loud Chinese talk radio. Forty yuan plus a fiver for a tip, for a guy who had no meter. Not bad, but it will become evident later how variable that can be.
The front of the park was crowded, not just with locals and both foreign and Chinese tourists, but with any number of vendors selling hats, kites and the ever-present "Rolex." Riiiight. We paid the 70 yuan fee and went inside. At least the vendors inside were plying you mostly with relevant items, instead of fake watches.
The park itself is huge. It is a complex of buildings formerly used for the worship of heaven and imperial prayers for bountiful harvests. We walked down the broad avenue toward the circular altar mound. Unlike the Lama Temple yesterday, here Westerners were very definitely in the minority. Oddly, it didn't make us feel uncomfortable at all. Whatever else it may be, Beijing is generally tourist-friendly.
We passed families out for the day, with children racing up and down the paved walk. Here was a grandfather, leaning on his cane and expounding vociferously on some topic that obviously raised his dander. There was a group of men writing calligraphy on the pavers, using only water, their beautiful brushwork fading to a Rorschach blot in a matter of seconds. Everywhere there was talk and laughter and the universal sounds of people in a park.
Passing through a second gate, we entered the circular altar mound. The mound itself is a beautiful three-tier white marble structure, its carved balustrades adorned with dragons and gargoyles. From the top, we could see the length of the boulevard, from the south gate to the giant temple (closed for renovations, pre-Olympics) at the end of Danbi Bridge. From the center stone of the altar, a speaker's voice projects with enhanced resonance and clarity, reminiscent of the amphitheater at Epidauros. In this one place, Westerners outnumbered Chinese. My guess is that since the altar requires a more expensive or separate ticket, the locals don't visit it much, remaining instead in the extensive gardens surrounding the altar, vault and temple.
From here we could also hear singing, and we ventured back outside the altar wall to find its source. On the west side stood a group of three people practicing their vocal acrobatics. As we came around to the north side, we entered a large plaza, filled with cypress trees and park visitors. Three women and a man played with a feathered footbag nearby, and just across the plaza was a group of about fifteen men and women, singing under the direction of a fellow who also played a beautiful flute.
Lara bought us a pair of Fantas, and we sat down to watch, accosted only occasionally by t-shirt sellers and hat hawkers. At the next table, a group of four young women enjoyed a game of cards. Crowds streamed in and out of the gate to the Imperial Vault of Heaven, the largest building open to the public that day, some wearing the hats sold by the vendors, some trailing flag-waving tourguides and looking vaguely distracted by the noise and bustle.
The Fantas having served their purpose, we pressed on to the Vault. Inside the wall were two couples practicing on the echo wall. By standing at two specific points along the wall, speakers a great distance apart can hear each other as if they were elbow to elbow -- much like the effect of speaking under a dome. An English couple and two Chinese girls tried it out, with varying degrees of success. I suspect the noise from the crowd drowned out the effect, but their animated attempts at conversation were enough to attract the attention of a guy who must have been shooting tape for some kind of promotional video.
The vault itself is a towering round blue-roofed structure, with intricate roof fringing and marble railings. Inside no photographs were allowed, by the gold-inlaid columns and delicately detailed ceiling were simply amazing. Turning from the door, Lara pointed to the roof of the West Annex Hall. "See the guy on the chicken?"
"The what?"
"The guy riding the chicken...he's at the front of the roof decoration there. He was some kind of evil government official or something, and after he died, they started decorating roofs with figures of him riding a chicken, so he'd be too embarrassed to come back. Or something like that...it's in the China guide."
This, I thought, was too good to pass up, so I spent the next few minutes trying to get decent telephoto shots of "Man with Chicken." I can only imagine my Mom's reaction. I'll be forced to locate a replica of the piece so she can mount it on her chicken house. That way, no evil Chinese imperial government officials will be able to haunt her chickens. I can't imagine why one might be inclined to do something like that, but best to be protected against all eventualities.
Perhaps I should look for one for my own coop.
Back outside the echo wall, we turned north up Danbi Bridge, a raised stone boulevard leading to the Temple of Heaven which, as noted earlier, was closed. Lara's right...the next time we plan an international trip, it's going to be to someplace unlikely to be hosting the Olympics (like New York...snicker snicker snicker). I know, I know -- it's not polite to tease the Yankees.
At the end of the bridge, we descended back to ground level and turned west, through the huge cypress groves that surround the Vault and Temple. Here and there, the groves were dotted with rose gardens and pavilions like the Hundred Flower Pavilion and the Double Ring Pavilion. Wide, straight boulevards carried most of the foot traffic, while those seeking a quieter experience might venture off onto a small brick path to a grape arbor, or wander across a small, grassy lawn in what was trying very hard to be the sunshine.
Halfway back to the south gate, we stopped at the Fasting Palace. I sometimes get the impression that any imperial building larger than a potting shed might be referred to as a palace, because this wasn't very big. Three rooms and two stories, the main room filled with ancient artifacts and treasures of Emperor Qianlong's reign. We had a brief look, and continued on, worried that we might be late for our scheduled pickup for the hutong tour. On the way out, we saw what was, for me, one of the highlights of the morning. A small girl, wearing a white, poofy shirt and black leggings with a brightly-colored print, scampered alongside a man who might have been her grandfather. He was a dour-faced old man, his tan, short-sleeved shirt open in the front over a white undershirt and dark slacks. He didn't look to be enjoying himself, but each time the girl's wide orbit returned to his side, his face brightened and he took her hand, and for just a moment he became the picture of contentedness, until his charge spotted something else of interested a shot off ahead of him.
Back at the gate, we caught a cab back to the hotel. Here I learned an two important lessons. First, just because a "cab" has a service name and light bar on it doesn't mean the driver is worth his salt. This guy thought turn signals were a joke, and regarded lane lines as pretty decorations. Second, just because the guy has a meter doesn't mean it works -- ask about the fare first. We got back to the hotel, and he charged us 100 yuan. Now by the standards we're accustomed to, that's not really bad -- maybe 15 for a 25 minute right across a good chunk of central Beijing. But by local standards, it was probably double the going rate.
But we were late and disinclined to argue (or tip, which should go without saying), so we left him to his business and returned to our room for a short break before venturing back out into the heat.
Posted by brlittle at June 11, 2005 01:14 AM