1.31.2005
What's your sign?
As some of you may be aware, Chinese New Year is right around the corner. Of course, here they don't call it Chinese New Year, they call it--no, not just plain New Year, but good guess--Spring Festival. It's basically the Chinese equivalent of Christmas: everyone gets time off; goes home to spend time with their family, and does the whole present thing, although I think that the majority of said presents consist of red envelopes stuffed with cash, which actually does not sound too bad. Better than socks, at any rate.
(Side note: no offense to anyone who bought me socks for Christmas. I love them, naturally. I was talking about other, less grateful people who don't like socks and slash or who wear sandals a lot and ergo don't need socks. Stupid hippies.)
At any rate, besides cash-stuffed envelopes, Spring Festival also means the Chinese zodiac changes to a new animal. Which reminds me, McDonald's is actually selling little stuffed Chinese zodiac animals, which are very funny. We just bought a dragon the other day, since that's Holly's sign. I'm still waiting on the ox. If anyone's a pig--insert joke here--let me know: they're for sale now, too.
Anyway, this coming year is the Year of the Rooster. This means that, right now, roosters are everywhere: calendars, books, decorations, signs, whatever. Yes, the entire city is covered in red--the Spring Festival color--and roosters, most of which are gold, ironically enough since roosters should be red, in order to stand out from the red background they are printed on. (I think most shops around here left up the Christmas lights and just replaced Santa with a rooster. Very handy, that--it means you can leave your Christmas lights up for months.)(Well, you can do that anywhere, but here you can do it and not seem like a lazy slob.)(Which is also very handy, actually.)
Anyway, the coming New Year has led to some very funny situations around here, as pretty much everything seems to. (Possibly I am just easily amused?) Why? One very simple, childish reason. As you may be aware--if you aren't, you will be--there are several possible synonyms for rooster (at least, according to Microsoft Word's thesaurus): fowl, hen, chicken, poultry, and even capon, which I am just trusting means rooster or some rooster-type of animal since I have never heard the word before.
(Side note: I just looked it up. A capon is a castrated male chicken. Nice. Try using that in your next conversation …)
However, there is one more synonym, one that--for some reason I have yet to fathom--seems to have slipped into common usage around here. So common, in fact, that it's probably used--in spoken English, at least--almost as often as the word "rooster." What, then, is this endlessly amusing word I have now danced around for several pointless paragraphs?
Cock.
As in rooster, of course--what were you thinking?
Yes, it is the Year of the Cock here in BJ. Which, as we all know by now, is how Beijing is commonly abbreviated. What this means I have no idea, but I can only assume chaos will ensue--among other things, at least (Ding!) And yes, I have been waiting for about three months to say this--ever since I learned that the year of the Rooster was coming up. And yes, it is also the Year of the Cock all across China, but that just doesn't sound as funny, does it?
In case you are wondering--and why wouldn't you be, if you're still reading?--I have actually heard people refer to it as the Year of the Cock on more than one occasion. In fact, at the Harbin Snow Festival, I did hear someone, upon first noticing the gigantic rooster sculpture, exclaim, "Look at that big cock!" As you can imagine, this caught all of our attention, since you don't generally here that kind of thing while walking around America. Or at least not in Seattle at any rate--maybe it happens more in other cities.
(Side note: If so, let me know, and I will put that city down on my list of places to not visit, along with the Middle East; pretty much all of Africa; the former Soviet Ickistans (Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and such); and almost every American city between the West and East coasts, with the exception of Chicago, which just seems like a fun place. Or at least it does from the airport.)
But back to the "rooster" (cough, cough). Sadly, you don't see this alternate word for rooster much in print around here, although I have spent more time than I would care to admit looking around for some calendars or at least some New Year's cards to bring home to everyone. After all, who wouldn't want an oversized wall calendar featuring a large golden chicken that reads "Year of the Cock" across the top in nice, big letters to put in their study or maybe even on the refrigerator? I'm sure all my friends' wives and girlfriends would be thrilled, at any rate.
I'm not wrong about that, am I?
(Side note: no offense to anyone who bought me socks for Christmas. I love them, naturally. I was talking about other, less grateful people who don't like socks and slash or who wear sandals a lot and ergo don't need socks. Stupid hippies.)
At any rate, besides cash-stuffed envelopes, Spring Festival also means the Chinese zodiac changes to a new animal. Which reminds me, McDonald's is actually selling little stuffed Chinese zodiac animals, which are very funny. We just bought a dragon the other day, since that's Holly's sign. I'm still waiting on the ox. If anyone's a pig--insert joke here--let me know: they're for sale now, too.
Anyway, this coming year is the Year of the Rooster. This means that, right now, roosters are everywhere: calendars, books, decorations, signs, whatever. Yes, the entire city is covered in red--the Spring Festival color--and roosters, most of which are gold, ironically enough since roosters should be red, in order to stand out from the red background they are printed on. (I think most shops around here left up the Christmas lights and just replaced Santa with a rooster. Very handy, that--it means you can leave your Christmas lights up for months.)(Well, you can do that anywhere, but here you can do it and not seem like a lazy slob.)(Which is also very handy, actually.)
Anyway, the coming New Year has led to some very funny situations around here, as pretty much everything seems to. (Possibly I am just easily amused?) Why? One very simple, childish reason. As you may be aware--if you aren't, you will be--there are several possible synonyms for rooster (at least, according to Microsoft Word's thesaurus): fowl, hen, chicken, poultry, and even capon, which I am just trusting means rooster or some rooster-type of animal since I have never heard the word before.
(Side note: I just looked it up. A capon is a castrated male chicken. Nice. Try using that in your next conversation …)
However, there is one more synonym, one that--for some reason I have yet to fathom--seems to have slipped into common usage around here. So common, in fact, that it's probably used--in spoken English, at least--almost as often as the word "rooster." What, then, is this endlessly amusing word I have now danced around for several pointless paragraphs?
Cock.
As in rooster, of course--what were you thinking?
Yes, it is the Year of the Cock here in BJ. Which, as we all know by now, is how Beijing is commonly abbreviated. What this means I have no idea, but I can only assume chaos will ensue--among other things, at least (Ding!) And yes, I have been waiting for about three months to say this--ever since I learned that the year of the Rooster was coming up. And yes, it is also the Year of the Cock all across China, but that just doesn't sound as funny, does it?
In case you are wondering--and why wouldn't you be, if you're still reading?--I have actually heard people refer to it as the Year of the Cock on more than one occasion. In fact, at the Harbin Snow Festival, I did hear someone, upon first noticing the gigantic rooster sculpture, exclaim, "Look at that big cock!" As you can imagine, this caught all of our attention, since you don't generally here that kind of thing while walking around America. Or at least not in Seattle at any rate--maybe it happens more in other cities.
(Side note: If so, let me know, and I will put that city down on my list of places to not visit, along with the Middle East; pretty much all of Africa; the former Soviet Ickistans (Tajikistan, Uzbekistan, and such); and almost every American city between the West and East coasts, with the exception of Chicago, which just seems like a fun place. Or at least it does from the airport.)
But back to the "rooster" (cough, cough). Sadly, you don't see this alternate word for rooster much in print around here, although I have spent more time than I would care to admit looking around for some calendars or at least some New Year's cards to bring home to everyone. After all, who wouldn't want an oversized wall calendar featuring a large golden chicken that reads "Year of the Cock" across the top in nice, big letters to put in their study or maybe even on the refrigerator? I'm sure all my friends' wives and girlfriends would be thrilled, at any rate.
I'm not wrong about that, am I?
1.23.2005
Forbidden fun.
By which, of course, I mean fun in the Forbidden City, not fun that is somehow not permitted. Although that would probably make a more interesting post, don't you think? And really, it could happen. Take yesterday, for example. Holly's dad and grandma are here, and after dinner I decided that, rather than cab back to our place with them, I would take a nice, brisk walk in order to try to work off the tiniest portion of the antipasto-lasagna-beer combination I had just finished gorging on during our aforementioned dinner.
After approximately one block of walking, I was approached by a fine, upstanding Chinese gentleman--referred to hereafter as "the pimp"--who wondered if I was interested in "pretty girl sex massage" for the bargain price of 300 yuan, or about 36 bucks. Being the gentleman that I am, I ignored the terribly unclear English--does he mean that I get a massage by a pretty member of the girl (AKA female) sex? Do I have to give the massage? Will the girls just be massaging each other? Was he actually saying "message" and expecting me to buy a tape or CD or something?--and kept walking on my merry way.
Naturally, "the pimp" decided to accompany me as I continued on said merry way, and before long "the pimp" had dropped his price down to just 200 yuan, which is roughly 24 dollars. As you might imagine, this confused me even more. Was he trying to rip me off with his first price, or does the lower price only get me an "okay-looking girl sex massage" or what? Enquiring minds want to know. Sadly, however, they will have to wait, since another foreigner came along and "the pimp" decided to ask this other foreigner about his level of interest in "pretty girl sex massage." Although he said 400 yuan to that guy, so go figure. I mean, did he look that much richer than me, or did I just look that much poorer? Or possibly I was so much better looking than the other guy that it was cheaper for me because it wouldn't be such a hardship for the nebulous "pretty girls." Being the China expert I so obviously am, I'm pretty sure it was the last one. I mean, seriously, how could it not be?
But where was I? Oh yes, the Forbidden City. (Admit it--you forgot, too.) Naturally, we took Holly's family to the Forbidden City, which marked the fourth time I've been there, which is sort of strange. I mean, think about whatever counts as THE tourist landmark in your city--the Space Needle, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Empire State Building, whatever--and count how many times you've been there. Two or three at the max, right? But I'm for sure going to the Forbidden City at least one more time, and possibly more than that, depending on how many of you who are still talking about coming actually show up at our Home of Tycoons-based doorstep. (Not that I'll mind taking you, of course, as I am a gracious and Christian soul.)
Besides, at this point, I'm a pretty good tour guide, so that's something. And as a bonus the Forbidden City is actually big enough that I still keep finding new things. For example, this last time I found what has to be the nicest bathroom in the Forbidden City: a four-star one. (Yes, they rank the bathrooms here in China, up to five stars.) (No, you don't want to know what a one star is like, although to approximate it you could, say, not clean your bathroom or flush the toilet for the next year.) (Also maybe throw some mud and dirt around, and definitely douse the place with your favorite "Raw Sewage" scented deodorizor.) (And get rid of the hot water.)(And anything to wash or wipe your hands with, too.) (Oh, and the toilet paper--no toilet paper, God forbid--you have to bring your own.) (Plus, after you use whatever you have in lieu of toilet paper--Kleenex, most likely--put it in the garbage can.) (Enjoy!)
So my point is that the bathroom was very nice, which--as you might gather--is always a pleasant surprise. Not only was it big and warm and clean, but it even had a smoking room in the center, just in case anyone felt the need to head to Flavor Country while touring the jaw-droppingly massive world heritage sight that is the Forbidden City. Yes, that's right: at the Forbidden City, you can get a tall nonfat almond latte--which I did, by the way--but you can't smoke a cigarette. Makes sense, I guess.
But speaking of coffee, I only actually found the bathroom because it was, handily enough, just behind the Starbucks. Which, as I have already said so you have hopefully already guessed, I went to. (If you haven't already guessed, what is wrong with you? Seriously--something is.) And, handily enough, my trip to Starbucks gave me something to do to amuse myself. That is, to come full circle, something FUN to do at the FORBIDDEN city. Yes, at long last--cheap sex and dirty bathrooms be damned, it's . . .
Forbidden Fun
(Side note: Remember when I mentioned that a common Beijing forcast is for SMOKE? That is, as opposed, to say, sunny or partly cloudy or some other normal weather forcast. This picture shows that forcast in action: thirty-five and smoky. Lovely.)
After approximately one block of walking, I was approached by a fine, upstanding Chinese gentleman--referred to hereafter as "the pimp"--who wondered if I was interested in "pretty girl sex massage" for the bargain price of 300 yuan, or about 36 bucks. Being the gentleman that I am, I ignored the terribly unclear English--does he mean that I get a massage by a pretty member of the girl (AKA female) sex? Do I have to give the massage? Will the girls just be massaging each other? Was he actually saying "message" and expecting me to buy a tape or CD or something?--and kept walking on my merry way.
Naturally, "the pimp" decided to accompany me as I continued on said merry way, and before long "the pimp" had dropped his price down to just 200 yuan, which is roughly 24 dollars. As you might imagine, this confused me even more. Was he trying to rip me off with his first price, or does the lower price only get me an "okay-looking girl sex massage" or what? Enquiring minds want to know. Sadly, however, they will have to wait, since another foreigner came along and "the pimp" decided to ask this other foreigner about his level of interest in "pretty girl sex massage." Although he said 400 yuan to that guy, so go figure. I mean, did he look that much richer than me, or did I just look that much poorer? Or possibly I was so much better looking than the other guy that it was cheaper for me because it wouldn't be such a hardship for the nebulous "pretty girls." Being the China expert I so obviously am, I'm pretty sure it was the last one. I mean, seriously, how could it not be?
But where was I? Oh yes, the Forbidden City. (Admit it--you forgot, too.) Naturally, we took Holly's family to the Forbidden City, which marked the fourth time I've been there, which is sort of strange. I mean, think about whatever counts as THE tourist landmark in your city--the Space Needle, the Golden Gate Bridge, the Empire State Building, whatever--and count how many times you've been there. Two or three at the max, right? But I'm for sure going to the Forbidden City at least one more time, and possibly more than that, depending on how many of you who are still talking about coming actually show up at our Home of Tycoons-based doorstep. (Not that I'll mind taking you, of course, as I am a gracious and Christian soul.)
Besides, at this point, I'm a pretty good tour guide, so that's something. And as a bonus the Forbidden City is actually big enough that I still keep finding new things. For example, this last time I found what has to be the nicest bathroom in the Forbidden City: a four-star one. (Yes, they rank the bathrooms here in China, up to five stars.) (No, you don't want to know what a one star is like, although to approximate it you could, say, not clean your bathroom or flush the toilet for the next year.) (Also maybe throw some mud and dirt around, and definitely douse the place with your favorite "Raw Sewage" scented deodorizor.) (And get rid of the hot water.)(And anything to wash or wipe your hands with, too.) (Oh, and the toilet paper--no toilet paper, God forbid--you have to bring your own.) (Plus, after you use whatever you have in lieu of toilet paper--Kleenex, most likely--put it in the garbage can.) (Enjoy!)
So my point is that the bathroom was very nice, which--as you might gather--is always a pleasant surprise. Not only was it big and warm and clean, but it even had a smoking room in the center, just in case anyone felt the need to head to Flavor Country while touring the jaw-droppingly massive world heritage sight that is the Forbidden City. Yes, that's right: at the Forbidden City, you can get a tall nonfat almond latte--which I did, by the way--but you can't smoke a cigarette. Makes sense, I guess.
But speaking of coffee, I only actually found the bathroom because it was, handily enough, just behind the Starbucks. Which, as I have already said so you have hopefully already guessed, I went to. (If you haven't already guessed, what is wrong with you? Seriously--something is.) And, handily enough, my trip to Starbucks gave me something to do to amuse myself. That is, to come full circle, something FUN to do at the FORBIDDEN city. Yes, at long last--cheap sex and dirty bathrooms be damned, it's . . .
Forbidden Fun
(Side note: Remember when I mentioned that a common Beijing forcast is for SMOKE? That is, as opposed, to say, sunny or partly cloudy or some other normal weather forcast. This picture shows that forcast in action: thirty-five and smoky. Lovely.)
1.20.2005
Of snow sculptures and such.
So, at long last--although not that long, since it's only been like 4 days and I think that's pretty fast--here are some pictures from the Harbin Snow Festival, conveniently located right across the street from the Ice Festival. (Neither of which were located anywhere near the tiger park, for the record.)
Overall, I think the snow festival was much cooler--and also much warmer, which sounds impossible but actually isn't--than the Ice Festival. And if you don't believe me, I've got the pictures to prove it. Lots of them. And not just the ones below--I've put a ton of pictures up on Shutterfly, too. (A ton in this case consisting of exactly 41 pictures, although one seems to want to display twice for some reason, so there are actually 42 images, in case you care and I am pretty sure that none of you do.)
Anyway, without further ado (for once), here are the pictures.
Harbin Snow Festival
This was just inside the front gate: it's a guy--presumably a "fierce warrior" type--shooting a bow and arrow at a dragon. Or at least trying to--I never actually found an arrow anywhere in this sculpture.
This was one of the more impressive sculptures, and one of the biggest.
A close up of the dragon's mouth from the above sculpture. Not sure what the babies are doing riding the dragon, though. Maybe he's one of those nice dragons, like Puff the Magic Dragon or something. Or maybe the dragon's saving them for a snack later--who knows?
Charging snow horses, sans babies. Which is just as well, since they'd probably fall off.
Chinese New Year (Spring Festival) is just around the corner--it starts February 8, I think--and this next year is the Year of the Rooster. Hence this sculpture, which would otherwise be a little odd. As you can see, it is also on the grande side. (The woman in the picture was one of the people who came to Harbin with us.)
One of the entries in the snow sculpture contest. This one is actually the USA's entry. It's very fitting, since there's nothing we are known for in the US more than encouraging peace. I mean, it's just what we do. Seriously, ask anyone.
(Side note: For the purposes of this question, anyone does not include persons living in the Middle East. Or Africa. Or large parts of Europe, either. Oh, and also not Oceania or South America. But it may include parts of Russia and anyone in a state where they want to put warnings about evolution being just a theory on the fronts of textbooks.)
Then again, is it really encouraging peace? Maybe it's just me--although I know it's not, since someone else pointed this out to me--but doesn't it look like the hand is trying to give everyone the finger? Take that, peace!
Another entry in the sculpture contest. Right after this is the part where Legolas climbs up the Olyphant's trunk and kills it single-handedly. (What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about?)
This was the winning sculpture, although now that I write this I have no idea what country it was from. Oops. Either way, it was pretty amazingly detailed. I have no idea what it's supposed to be, though. Advice to stay out of the rain? An advertisement for the Traveler's group? Some crazy sculptor's drug-induced vision? Maybe one of these, maybe all. Who knows?
The French contest entry. Mostly, I am confused about the pig-like dog animal nestled in her hair on the right side. What the hell is that thing doing there?
One of the various Russian entries. It was called "Free Cheese," which--as we all know--is the best kind of cheese.
Amazingly enough, Goldilocks was nowhere to be found in this sculpture. (There's three bears, get it?)(If not, wipe the drool off your lip and continue.)
Another Russian entry. "Hey, I know! Let's make a sculpture of some evil-looking stampeding horses!" Happy people, obviously.
I know what you're thinking: is that column Corinthian, Ionic, or Doric? No, I don't know either. (Okay, I do--Corinthian.)(Common knowledge, really.)(What? You have no idea what I'm talking about? How awkward.)
Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the sculpture garden ...
Overall, I think the snow festival was much cooler--and also much warmer, which sounds impossible but actually isn't--than the Ice Festival. And if you don't believe me, I've got the pictures to prove it. Lots of them. And not just the ones below--I've put a ton of pictures up on Shutterfly, too. (A ton in this case consisting of exactly 41 pictures, although one seems to want to display twice for some reason, so there are actually 42 images, in case you care and I am pretty sure that none of you do.)
Anyway, without further ado (for once), here are the pictures.
Harbin Snow Festival
This was just inside the front gate: it's a guy--presumably a "fierce warrior" type--shooting a bow and arrow at a dragon. Or at least trying to--I never actually found an arrow anywhere in this sculpture.
This was one of the more impressive sculptures, and one of the biggest.
A close up of the dragon's mouth from the above sculpture. Not sure what the babies are doing riding the dragon, though. Maybe he's one of those nice dragons, like Puff the Magic Dragon or something. Or maybe the dragon's saving them for a snack later--who knows?
Charging snow horses, sans babies. Which is just as well, since they'd probably fall off.
Chinese New Year (Spring Festival) is just around the corner--it starts February 8, I think--and this next year is the Year of the Rooster. Hence this sculpture, which would otherwise be a little odd. As you can see, it is also on the grande side. (The woman in the picture was one of the people who came to Harbin with us.)
One of the entries in the snow sculpture contest. This one is actually the USA's entry. It's very fitting, since there's nothing we are known for in the US more than encouraging peace. I mean, it's just what we do. Seriously, ask anyone.
(Side note: For the purposes of this question, anyone does not include persons living in the Middle East. Or Africa. Or large parts of Europe, either. Oh, and also not Oceania or South America. But it may include parts of Russia and anyone in a state where they want to put warnings about evolution being just a theory on the fronts of textbooks.)
Then again, is it really encouraging peace? Maybe it's just me--although I know it's not, since someone else pointed this out to me--but doesn't it look like the hand is trying to give everyone the finger? Take that, peace!
Another entry in the sculpture contest. Right after this is the part where Legolas climbs up the Olyphant's trunk and kills it single-handedly. (What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about?)
This was the winning sculpture, although now that I write this I have no idea what country it was from. Oops. Either way, it was pretty amazingly detailed. I have no idea what it's supposed to be, though. Advice to stay out of the rain? An advertisement for the Traveler's group? Some crazy sculptor's drug-induced vision? Maybe one of these, maybe all. Who knows?
The French contest entry. Mostly, I am confused about the pig-like dog animal nestled in her hair on the right side. What the hell is that thing doing there?
One of the various Russian entries. It was called "Free Cheese," which--as we all know--is the best kind of cheese.
Amazingly enough, Goldilocks was nowhere to be found in this sculpture. (There's three bears, get it?)(If not, wipe the drool off your lip and continue.)
Another Russian entry. "Hey, I know! Let's make a sculpture of some evil-looking stampeding horses!" Happy people, obviously.
I know what you're thinking: is that column Corinthian, Ionic, or Doric? No, I don't know either. (Okay, I do--Corinthian.)(Common knowledge, really.)(What? You have no idea what I'm talking about? How awkward.)
Just when you thought it was safe to go back into the sculpture garden ...
1.18.2005
Ice, ice baby.
Sing along--you know you all want to. (Vanilla ... ice, ice baby. Da-da-da-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-dun-da.)(As da-da based music approximations go, that was pretty terrible, wasn't it?) Anyway, whilst you sing along, feel free to enjoy these pictures of the Harbin Ice Festival. (Great segue, I know. It's almost Bob Saget-like in it's quality, or lack thereof.)
Whatever. As for the Ice Festival itself, well, it was sort of strange. On one hand it was pretty amazing--the buildings were not only huge, but there were a lot more of them than I thought there would be--but on the other hand it was also slightly tacky in the way that anything covered in neon is. Or at least anything covered in neon post Miami Vice. Plus, there was a gigantic, circular ice altar--it was a copy of the altar at the Temple of Heaven--that was being used as a dance floor, with all the flashing lights and crappy techno music that implies. (The ice did make it easy to moonwalk, however. Trust me.) Nothing like attempting to marvel at an exquisitely carved herd of thundering horses carved out of a massive block of ice while being forced to listen to an obnoxious song that continually threatens but never quite turns into "The Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang. (You know: you and me baby ain't nothing but mammals ... If you don't know, consider yourself lucky.)
But still, it was quite a sight to behold: I saw more people slip and fall in one night than I have probably seen in my entire life. (Not me, of course, although only because of my eerily quick, cat-like reflexes.)(Well, that plus the guy who grabbed my arm just before I lost it.) I mean, they had staircases made out of ice. Steep staircases. And not just one--they had lots of them. And guess what? They were really freaking slippery. Shocking, I know. Sure, someone had made a lame attempt to make them a little better by covering them with snow, but since the snow lasted about as long as it took the first ten or twenty people to go up or down the stairs--and there were literally thousands of people there--it didn't to a lot of good. About as much good as grabbing onto the ice banister on the ice staircase anyway, which is to say it didn't to any good at all.
Anyway, as usual, I babble. Below are some of the better pictures. (Ice, neon, and darkness is not a camera-friendly picture-taking combination, as it turns out.) I'll put up some of the Snow Festival pictures--which are both better and cooler--sometime this weekend.
Walk This Way
This is the entryway. The dark strip that everyone is walking on is snow--nice of them to put it there and nowhere else--and the raised structure in the background is the aforementioned dance altar.
The Big Picture
While, a big picture anyway. This is an overview of roughly half of the festival, taken from next to the pagoda you will see later on ...
I Like the Pretty Lights
Random ice buildings! Oooh. Is that one with the cross on top the Vatican? Possibly, I'm not sure. The tower in the background--which you can see in other pictures--was at the center of everything.
Fruity
Hey--it's the tower I just mentioned. (What a coincidence.) Also a snow sculpture--they were scattered around the grounds--that you could crawl through. If you were under four feet tall anyway. Otherwise I think you'd get stuck.
I See France ...
The Louvre, complete with pyramid. Brought to you by CarreFour, the French grocery store chain with two convenient locations in Beijing. Well, convenient for us, not for most of you. Quel dommage.
The Return of the Marble Boat
Yes, once again, it's the infamous--that's more than famous, right--Marble Boat. Because the only thing more useless than a marble boat--besides a marble boat frozen in ice (see the "Winter" pictures from the summer palace)--is a marble boat that is both frozen in and made out of ice. Although now that I think about it, maybe this one--frozen in ice aside--is more useful because it might actually float? Or is any marble boat-type object useless, regardless of what it's actually made of? And if a marble boat is made out of ice, is it still a marble boat? For that matter, is something boat-shaped that can't float a boat at all? So confusing. If I would have known it would be this complicated, I wouldn't have bothered taking the picture.
Pagoda, with Stairs
Yes, I did see someone fall on these very stairs.
Instant Death
When I got on this slide--only about half of which is seen below--I thought, "Hey, this will be fun." After hitting the first turn at roughly Mach 8, however, which involved smashing my shoulder against the ice wall (Holly still has bruises) and almost falling off my plastic sled, I started to think, "Hey, this is terrifying. Especially since the next person is like five seconds behind me--no safety laws in China!--and I will pulped if they hit me, since they will also be going Mach 8." Turns out, things--including people--go really, really fast on ice slides. I guess I should have known? Plowing into a gigantic mound of snow at the end--they gave you about three feet to decelerate--was also quite fun.
Does This Picture Make Me Look Fat?
Okay, it's not ice, but it WAS at the Ice Festival--right at the end of the slide. Maybe Buddha likes to watch people scream in terror as they careen at Mach 8 down the ice slide of death? No wonder he's got a smile on his face.
Climbing Wall
No, I didn't do it. But it was fun to watch others try! (Although since the wall had toeholds, it wasn't as hard as it looks.) But easy or not, I generally don't consider exercise-like activities, such as climbing, to be "fun." Call me crazy.
I Laugh At Cold
Also, I think he mocks the Spyder suit. Or at least he would if he spoke English. He was trying to raise money for something, but I'm not sure what. Hopefully some more clothes, since it was like five below when this picture was taken.
Us!
So is it just me, or are we overdressed? (For the record, the structure behind us is the front gate.)
Whatever. As for the Ice Festival itself, well, it was sort of strange. On one hand it was pretty amazing--the buildings were not only huge, but there were a lot more of them than I thought there would be--but on the other hand it was also slightly tacky in the way that anything covered in neon is. Or at least anything covered in neon post Miami Vice. Plus, there was a gigantic, circular ice altar--it was a copy of the altar at the Temple of Heaven--that was being used as a dance floor, with all the flashing lights and crappy techno music that implies. (The ice did make it easy to moonwalk, however. Trust me.) Nothing like attempting to marvel at an exquisitely carved herd of thundering horses carved out of a massive block of ice while being forced to listen to an obnoxious song that continually threatens but never quite turns into "The Bad Touch" by the Bloodhound Gang. (You know: you and me baby ain't nothing but mammals ... If you don't know, consider yourself lucky.)
But still, it was quite a sight to behold: I saw more people slip and fall in one night than I have probably seen in my entire life. (Not me, of course, although only because of my eerily quick, cat-like reflexes.)(Well, that plus the guy who grabbed my arm just before I lost it.) I mean, they had staircases made out of ice. Steep staircases. And not just one--they had lots of them. And guess what? They were really freaking slippery. Shocking, I know. Sure, someone had made a lame attempt to make them a little better by covering them with snow, but since the snow lasted about as long as it took the first ten or twenty people to go up or down the stairs--and there were literally thousands of people there--it didn't to a lot of good. About as much good as grabbing onto the ice banister on the ice staircase anyway, which is to say it didn't to any good at all.
Anyway, as usual, I babble. Below are some of the better pictures. (Ice, neon, and darkness is not a camera-friendly picture-taking combination, as it turns out.) I'll put up some of the Snow Festival pictures--which are both better and cooler--sometime this weekend.
Walk This Way
This is the entryway. The dark strip that everyone is walking on is snow--nice of them to put it there and nowhere else--and the raised structure in the background is the aforementioned dance altar.
The Big Picture
While, a big picture anyway. This is an overview of roughly half of the festival, taken from next to the pagoda you will see later on ...
I Like the Pretty Lights
Random ice buildings! Oooh. Is that one with the cross on top the Vatican? Possibly, I'm not sure. The tower in the background--which you can see in other pictures--was at the center of everything.
Fruity
Hey--it's the tower I just mentioned. (What a coincidence.) Also a snow sculpture--they were scattered around the grounds--that you could crawl through. If you were under four feet tall anyway. Otherwise I think you'd get stuck.
I See France ...
The Louvre, complete with pyramid. Brought to you by CarreFour, the French grocery store chain with two convenient locations in Beijing. Well, convenient for us, not for most of you. Quel dommage.
The Return of the Marble Boat
Yes, once again, it's the infamous--that's more than famous, right--Marble Boat. Because the only thing more useless than a marble boat--besides a marble boat frozen in ice (see the "Winter" pictures from the summer palace)--is a marble boat that is both frozen in and made out of ice. Although now that I think about it, maybe this one--frozen in ice aside--is more useful because it might actually float? Or is any marble boat-type object useless, regardless of what it's actually made of? And if a marble boat is made out of ice, is it still a marble boat? For that matter, is something boat-shaped that can't float a boat at all? So confusing. If I would have known it would be this complicated, I wouldn't have bothered taking the picture.
Pagoda, with Stairs
Yes, I did see someone fall on these very stairs.
Instant Death
When I got on this slide--only about half of which is seen below--I thought, "Hey, this will be fun." After hitting the first turn at roughly Mach 8, however, which involved smashing my shoulder against the ice wall (Holly still has bruises) and almost falling off my plastic sled, I started to think, "Hey, this is terrifying. Especially since the next person is like five seconds behind me--no safety laws in China!--and I will pulped if they hit me, since they will also be going Mach 8." Turns out, things--including people--go really, really fast on ice slides. I guess I should have known? Plowing into a gigantic mound of snow at the end--they gave you about three feet to decelerate--was also quite fun.
Does This Picture Make Me Look Fat?
Okay, it's not ice, but it WAS at the Ice Festival--right at the end of the slide. Maybe Buddha likes to watch people scream in terror as they careen at Mach 8 down the ice slide of death? No wonder he's got a smile on his face.
Climbing Wall
No, I didn't do it. But it was fun to watch others try! (Although since the wall had toeholds, it wasn't as hard as it looks.) But easy or not, I generally don't consider exercise-like activities, such as climbing, to be "fun." Call me crazy.
I Laugh At Cold
Also, I think he mocks the Spyder suit. Or at least he would if he spoke English. He was trying to raise money for something, but I'm not sure what. Hopefully some more clothes, since it was like five below when this picture was taken.
Us!
So is it just me, or are we overdressed? (For the record, the structure behind us is the front gate.)
1.17.2005
Tyger, tyger.
Guess what? There's more to Harbin than just massive, insanely detailed snow sculptures and gigantic ice and neon buildings (yes, you read that right), although really, you would think that would be enough, wouldn't you? I mean, if we'd built both a thirty-foot-high dragon made out of snow AND a fifteen-story tower made out of ice that had been frozen around a couple miles worth of red, green, and yellow neon tubing in the town I grew up in, we'd probably just call it good and go to a bar for a few beers or something. But not the hard-working people of Harbin, apparently. (Maybe that's why the Chinese economy is growing so fast? Too much hard work! The gall.) Anyway, it turns out that, in addition to the aforementioned snow and ice attractions, there's also a huge tiger park in Harbin, which we managed to squeeze in on Sunday morning before heading to the airport. And boy, was it interesting, as the delightful story below will show. Enjoy, and don't judge me until you read what I have to say at the end ...
Hey kids, welcome to Tiger Town!
There were lots of tigers in Tiger Town. Some were sleepy and just wanted to sit around ...
Some weren't so sleepy and crawled all over, up, and around!
And some wanted to get really close to us. How friendly!
While walking through Tiger Town, we stumbled upon a nice man with a cage full of chickens ...
He told us that the chickens were for sale for only forty yuan--less than five dollars!--so we bought one. Can you guess what happened to our chicken once we bought it?
Yes--the chicken got to go play with the tigers! See how excited the tigers are? They all want the chicken to be their very best special friend ...
The tiger on the right especially wants the chicken for his very best special friend. "Get away!" he says to the other tiger, then smacks him in the face for good measure. He must really love that chicken!
The face-smacking, chicken-loving tiger jumps up to say hello to his new very best special friend.
The tigers all try to make the chicken their very best special friend!
In the end, the face-smacking tiger who really wanted the chicken to be his friend got his wish and they ran off to spend some quality time together.
The two new very best special friends cuddle. Don't they look like they are having fun?
When the other tigers try to come and play with the chicken, the happy tiger says, "Stay away! This chicken is my very best special friend, not yours!" He is a very selfish tiger!
The selfish tiger and our chicken: very best special friends forever.
The End
The 411. Okay, so it was a little strange, paying to have a chicken become tiger feed, and I admit that as the selfish tiger sprinted away with our still-squawking chicken in its mouth, I did feel bad for the chicken. And actually, the chicken didn't seem too happy about being dangled over the tigers either, now that I think about it. Go figure. But my point is that the chickens were all going to end up as tiger food eventually--it's a tiger park, not a chicken roost--so it wasn't all that twisted and slash or evil. The money just accelerated the process, that's all.
What was twisted and evil, however, was that it didn't stop at chickens. Oh no. The chickens were just the cheapest. For a little more, you could see, say, a pheasant torn to shreds by a large jungle cat. And for more still--600 yuan (70 bucks or so)--you could turn the littlest Billy Goat Gruff into a mid-afternoon snack for your viewing pleasure.
But wait … there's more.
If you were really willing to dig deep, for 1,500 yuan (180 dollars) you could buy a calf--yes, a baby cow--and watch it be slaughtered by a pack of ravenous, caged tigers. Seriously. On the plane back to Beijing, we talked to someone who knew someone who had been there when someone did, in fact, spring for said calf. Apparently, no on really enjoyed watching it. No kidding. Sometimes you just have to sigh and say, "Ah, China …"
Hey kids, welcome to Tiger Town!
There were lots of tigers in Tiger Town. Some were sleepy and just wanted to sit around ...
Some weren't so sleepy and crawled all over, up, and around!
And some wanted to get really close to us. How friendly!
While walking through Tiger Town, we stumbled upon a nice man with a cage full of chickens ...
He told us that the chickens were for sale for only forty yuan--less than five dollars!--so we bought one. Can you guess what happened to our chicken once we bought it?
Yes--the chicken got to go play with the tigers! See how excited the tigers are? They all want the chicken to be their very best special friend ...
The tiger on the right especially wants the chicken for his very best special friend. "Get away!" he says to the other tiger, then smacks him in the face for good measure. He must really love that chicken!
The face-smacking, chicken-loving tiger jumps up to say hello to his new very best special friend.
The tigers all try to make the chicken their very best special friend!
In the end, the face-smacking tiger who really wanted the chicken to be his friend got his wish and they ran off to spend some quality time together.
The two new very best special friends cuddle. Don't they look like they are having fun?
When the other tigers try to come and play with the chicken, the happy tiger says, "Stay away! This chicken is my very best special friend, not yours!" He is a very selfish tiger!
The selfish tiger and our chicken: very best special friends forever.
The End
The 411. Okay, so it was a little strange, paying to have a chicken become tiger feed, and I admit that as the selfish tiger sprinted away with our still-squawking chicken in its mouth, I did feel bad for the chicken. And actually, the chicken didn't seem too happy about being dangled over the tigers either, now that I think about it. Go figure. But my point is that the chickens were all going to end up as tiger food eventually--it's a tiger park, not a chicken roost--so it wasn't all that twisted and slash or evil. The money just accelerated the process, that's all.
What was twisted and evil, however, was that it didn't stop at chickens. Oh no. The chickens were just the cheapest. For a little more, you could see, say, a pheasant torn to shreds by a large jungle cat. And for more still--600 yuan (70 bucks or so)--you could turn the littlest Billy Goat Gruff into a mid-afternoon snack for your viewing pleasure.
But wait … there's more.
If you were really willing to dig deep, for 1,500 yuan (180 dollars) you could buy a calf--yes, a baby cow--and watch it be slaughtered by a pack of ravenous, caged tigers. Seriously. On the plane back to Beijing, we talked to someone who knew someone who had been there when someone did, in fact, spring for said calf. Apparently, no on really enjoyed watching it. No kidding. Sometimes you just have to sigh and say, "Ah, China …"
1.12.2005
Absolute zero.
That is how warm--or cold, take your pick--I'll be in a little over twenty-four hours. Why? Because last night we finalized the details of aweekend getaway to Harbin, a city in northern China. And when I say northern, I mean northern--it's on roughly the same latitude as Ulaan Bataar, better known--well, hardly known, actually--as the capitol of Mongolia. And I think we all know three things about Mongolia: it's full of Mongols; said Mongols have an affinity for yurts; and it's really, really, really freaking cold. Ergo, Harbin--while presumably not overrun by Mongols, yurts, or any combination of the two--must be really, really, really freaking cold as well.
(Side note: for those of who are interested, I've underlined Harbin in red on the China map. It's northeast of Beijing, and may require scrolling. Consider yourself warned.)
So why go to Harbin, a place where the current high as I type this sentence is -7 degrees Fahrenheit (-22 C!), not including a nice 7 MPH wind that makes it "feel like" -21 F? No, not just for fun. Seriously, why would you think that? What about temperatures in the extremities-freezing range sounds fun do you, sadist? (If you are a sadist though--or are at least into the whole schadenfreude thing and want to know how much I will be/am/did suffering/suffering/suffer--here's a link to the current temperature in Harbin.) (Remember, if you want to properly enjoy my misery, you have to check out the "feels like" temperature. Stupid wind chill.)
But enough about that temperature and more about me! (You: sounds great!) We are going to Harbin in order to see the "not quite" to "approaching" world-famous Harbin Ice and Snow Festival, where they have all sorts of amazing ... well, snow and ice sculptures. Go figure. There's been an email making the rounds lately with a bunch of pictures from the festival in it, so you might have seen those. If not, you can search Google for the Harbin Ice and Snow Festival and find lots of matches. Then again, rather than wasting time clicking there and then looking around for the best pictures, you could also just go to the website that seems to be the source of that email that I mentioned above and accomplish the same thing, only much, much quicker.
Oops--did you already follow the Googe link? Maybe I should have put that second website first. My fault. You can picture me saying sorry with an insincere look on my face--that is, looking the way I normally look when saying sorry--if it makes you feel better. Although I'm not quite sure why it would.
(Side note: for those of who are interested, I've underlined Harbin in red on the China map. It's northeast of Beijing, and may require scrolling. Consider yourself warned.)
So why go to Harbin, a place where the current high as I type this sentence is -7 degrees Fahrenheit (-22 C!), not including a nice 7 MPH wind that makes it "feel like" -21 F? No, not just for fun. Seriously, why would you think that? What about temperatures in the extremities-freezing range sounds fun do you, sadist? (If you are a sadist though--or are at least into the whole schadenfreude thing and want to know how much I will be/am/did suffering/suffering/suffer--here's a link to the current temperature in Harbin.) (Remember, if you want to properly enjoy my misery, you have to check out the "feels like" temperature. Stupid wind chill.)
But enough about that temperature and more about me! (You: sounds great!) We are going to Harbin in order to see the "not quite" to "approaching" world-famous Harbin Ice and Snow Festival, where they have all sorts of amazing ... well, snow and ice sculptures. Go figure. There's been an email making the rounds lately with a bunch of pictures from the festival in it, so you might have seen those. If not, you can search Google for the Harbin Ice and Snow Festival and find lots of matches. Then again, rather than wasting time clicking there and then looking around for the best pictures, you could also just go to the website that seems to be the source of that email that I mentioned above and accomplish the same thing, only much, much quicker.
Oops--did you already follow the Googe link? Maybe I should have put that second website first. My fault. You can picture me saying sorry with an insincere look on my face--that is, looking the way I normally look when saying sorry--if it makes you feel better. Although I'm not quite sure why it would.
Naturally, deciding to go to Harbin caused quite a bit of panic in our little corner of Seasons Park, since I immediately suspected that my trusty cold-weather combination of worthless REI silk thermal underwear and jeans that I have mentioned before might not be enough protection when the temperature is hovering around ten below. (That's - 23 C for those of you who learned the metric system because you actually believed America might convert someday, like they used to tell you in elementary school. Suckers.) To remedy this, we immediately wandered over--um, took a cab--to Yaxiu, our local knock-off market, and loaded up on the warmest-looking warm-weather gear we could find. Or at least gear that was supposed to be warm weather, although for all I know it's the same chinsy jacket duplicated a thousand times, just with a different label stuck to it. (North Face! Helly Hanson! Burton!)
Either way, we got all kinds of alleged warm-weather goodies: North Face gloves, warm boots, Atomic pants, and--best of all--a complete, Spyder snowboarding outfit for myself. When you consider this amazing suit, please forget that I don't ski or snowboard and don't really have any desire to; nevermind that the red and blue design, complete with a spider silhouette on the back, bears more than a passing resemblance to a certain friendly neighborhood wall crawler; ignore the fact that my having a poster of aforementioned wall crawler above my bed as a wee lad may have had something to do with my choice of color scheme; and know only this: it's really, really, really freaking warm, a fact I am counting on to counter the previously mentioned really, really, really freaking cold weather in Harbin. Because, let's face it, if I'm going to actually go outside in this get-up, it had better be good for something ...
Dorky, Yes--But Warm and Dorky
Jealous much? I thought so.
Anyway, we'll see how it works out. Or at least I'll see: if I come home with no black body parts, I'll just assume it worked okay. What you will see--providing I find some way to press the the camera shutter button while wearing my bulky new North Face Gloves--is the phog to end all phogs when I come back. Or so I hope. I mean, like I said, I'm not doing this for fun ...
1.09.2005
The shape of things.
Lately I've been thinking about the phrase "form follows function"--that the way things look should be secondary to their function. I don't know whether this is true or not, since it seems to me that the design of something is an important part of the overall whole. If you don't believe me, just look around and see how many Pontiac Aztecs are still--or were ever--on the road. And if you have no idea what an Aztec is, that just proves my point. Or rather, it further proves my point, since my point was proved when I first mentioned the Aztec--it's not my fault that you're ignorant and slash or didn't watch the first season of Survivor, during the course of which the Aztec was heavily advertised.
(Side note, are people who are ignorant technically considered ignoramuses? Just wondering. For your collective sakes, of course. I know, I'm like a saint.)
Anyway, as I was saying, I have no idea whether or not form comes before, during, or after function, but here in Beijing they seem to be on an equal footing. I know this because the other day, as I was strolling down to Starbucks to get a bag of ground coffee for use in my crappy, Chinese-via-Sweden-made French press (that is, I bought it at Ikea), past the local holiday beer tree, I happened to look across the street and make an incredible discovery.
Guess What They Sell Here?
Yes, I had inadvertently stumbled across our friendly neighborhood beer stand. (I'm guessing that late at night people stumble into, not across, it. Just a thought.) But really, it's good that it's there? This way, if you are admiring the beer tree, are highly suggestible, and think "Hey, I could sure go for a nice, cold beer," there's an entire stand full of cold beer waiting for you just across the street. That, my friends, is what they call Chinese Wisdom.
(Another side note, Christmas decorations are still everywhere here--they remain up and on in all the stores. At this point, I'm guessing they'll just tear down the Santa faces and leave the lights up until February, at which point they will magically become Chinese New Year lights. Or, as they say here, plain old "New Year Lights." Or at least they would if they spoke English.)
But back to the beer stand. It is, granted, a little odd--in the way that all oversized, Fiberglas mugs of beer that double as stores must be--but at least it makes a certain kind of sense. However, as I continued on my way down the block, I saw another oddly shaped stand. This one, however, was a little more confusing.
Your Guess Is as Good as Mine
No, I have no idea either. Although all I kept wondering is whether or not Keebler makes their cookies in China. That, I think, would explain quite a bit. Now I didn't see any elves, so I can't be sure if this Keebler theory of mine is correct, but I fully intend to go back and find out. I'm guessing my odds of seeing aforementioned elves will be much better if I stop at the beer stand for a while first. Conveniently, it's right on the way
Local dub. We watched Finding Neverland last night. Sadly, there were no English subtitles available--or so I thought. We put in the movie and started watching it, and were both amazed by how clean of a copy it was. Good colors, good sound, and no one blocking the screen on their way to the bathroom or concession stand. In short, it was a perfect copy.
(On yet another side note, the next time you are watching a movie on its opening weekend, please take care of all that stuff--bathroom, popcorn, etcetera--BEFORE you take your seat. That way, you can just sit there and enjoy the movie without worrying about getting up and missing anything while doing the bathroom, popcorn, etcetera thing. And, even better, we won't have to see your head in the middle of the screen when we're trying to watch the movie on DVD. I mean, seriously, it's really distracting. Your cooperation would be appreciated.)
Anyway, after about ten minutes a subtitle did appear for about thirty seconds, only to disappear and then return every fifteen minutes or so for the rest of the movie. Happily, this subtitle explained both the lack of Chinese-style subtitles and the overall video quality. How? It said: Property of Miramax - For Screening Purposes Only. Lovely, I know. Does this mean that I now get to vote for the Academy Awards? I hope so. I mean, someone over in L.A. has to start picking the right movies. I mean, Titanic? Seriously ...
(Side note, are people who are ignorant technically considered ignoramuses? Just wondering. For your collective sakes, of course. I know, I'm like a saint.)
Anyway, as I was saying, I have no idea whether or not form comes before, during, or after function, but here in Beijing they seem to be on an equal footing. I know this because the other day, as I was strolling down to Starbucks to get a bag of ground coffee for use in my crappy, Chinese-via-Sweden-made French press (that is, I bought it at Ikea), past the local holiday beer tree, I happened to look across the street and make an incredible discovery.
Guess What They Sell Here?
Yes, I had inadvertently stumbled across our friendly neighborhood beer stand. (I'm guessing that late at night people stumble into, not across, it. Just a thought.) But really, it's good that it's there? This way, if you are admiring the beer tree, are highly suggestible, and think "Hey, I could sure go for a nice, cold beer," there's an entire stand full of cold beer waiting for you just across the street. That, my friends, is what they call Chinese Wisdom.
(Another side note, Christmas decorations are still everywhere here--they remain up and on in all the stores. At this point, I'm guessing they'll just tear down the Santa faces and leave the lights up until February, at which point they will magically become Chinese New Year lights. Or, as they say here, plain old "New Year Lights." Or at least they would if they spoke English.)
But back to the beer stand. It is, granted, a little odd--in the way that all oversized, Fiberglas mugs of beer that double as stores must be--but at least it makes a certain kind of sense. However, as I continued on my way down the block, I saw another oddly shaped stand. This one, however, was a little more confusing.
Your Guess Is as Good as Mine
No, I have no idea either. Although all I kept wondering is whether or not Keebler makes their cookies in China. That, I think, would explain quite a bit. Now I didn't see any elves, so I can't be sure if this Keebler theory of mine is correct, but I fully intend to go back and find out. I'm guessing my odds of seeing aforementioned elves will be much better if I stop at the beer stand for a while first. Conveniently, it's right on the way
Local dub. We watched Finding Neverland last night. Sadly, there were no English subtitles available--or so I thought. We put in the movie and started watching it, and were both amazed by how clean of a copy it was. Good colors, good sound, and no one blocking the screen on their way to the bathroom or concession stand. In short, it was a perfect copy.
(On yet another side note, the next time you are watching a movie on its opening weekend, please take care of all that stuff--bathroom, popcorn, etcetera--BEFORE you take your seat. That way, you can just sit there and enjoy the movie without worrying about getting up and missing anything while doing the bathroom, popcorn, etcetera thing. And, even better, we won't have to see your head in the middle of the screen when we're trying to watch the movie on DVD. I mean, seriously, it's really distracting. Your cooperation would be appreciated.)
Anyway, after about ten minutes a subtitle did appear for about thirty seconds, only to disappear and then return every fifteen minutes or so for the rest of the movie. Happily, this subtitle explained both the lack of Chinese-style subtitles and the overall video quality. How? It said: Property of Miramax - For Screening Purposes Only. Lovely, I know. Does this mean that I now get to vote for the Academy Awards? I hope so. I mean, someone over in L.A. has to start picking the right movies. I mean, Titanic? Seriously ...
1.03.2005
(Un)comfortably numb.
A few days ago, we took my parents to see the Summer Palace, an event which only served to confirm my belief that the Summer Palace is, in fact, a place best visited during the summer as opposed to, say, the dead of winter, when the temperature drops down into the two syllables. Yes, that's right--it was kuh-cold there. Turns out, when it's in the low mid-twenties and the wind is blowing at a steady ten miles-per-hour across a frozen lake and right through you and your fancy but useless REI silk thermal underwear, it's really freaking cold. Hard to believe, I know. But just in case you don't, I submit the photographic evidence below and ask you, do I--or at least my eyes--look warm?
Frostbite Can Be Fun!
On a side note, it's funny how the Celsius scale makes everything seem so much colder. For example, tonight the low here is supposed to be -8 degrees C. Turns out, that's a balmy 16 degrees using the old, reliable Fahrenheit system. Not that 16 degrees is warm, but -8 sounds worse, doesn't it? Of course, when I'm walking back from dinner tonight, I'm sure I'll think 16 degrees with a pleasant, particulate-filled wind blowing in my face is plenty cold. Just a guess.
Pictures
Because I know you have all just come back from a long weekend--Happy New Year, by the way--I figure you have nothing to do than look at pictures of all the places I've been in the last few weeks. (I'm not wrong, am I?) Yes, while you were all pretending to have fun at your office holiday party; eating "just one more" cookie because it was Christmas and, somehow, the calories would magically disappear at 12:01 AM on December 26 (let me know how that worked out, by the way); acting like a nice pair of wool socks was really what you wanted more than anything else for your gift; and nestling down in your nice, warm beds with visions of sugarplums or whatever it was that you really wanted for a gift dancing through your collective heads, I--your intrepid reporter--was out braving the cold, the wind, the snow, and the snot-blackening pollution I have mentioned before to take these pictures for you. Consider them a special holiday gift, from me to you. That is what you wanted, right?
Great Wall! Did Robin ever say "Great Wall, Batman!" on the Batman TV show? If not, he should have. Either way, I went to the Great Wall again, this time to the Badaling section. Because really, one picture of a big, never-ending stone wall is just not enough. Happily, it was just as warm there as at it was at the Summer Palace--sure, there wasn't any frozen lake, but it made up for that by being up in the mountains. How considerate.
Lama Temple. On the one day here that it actually snowed, I thought to myself, "Hey, why not go visit the biggest Buddhist monastery in Beijing and see how cold I can get. Oh, and maybe also see if I can take even more pictures of lions and slash or dragons, because I haven't taken enough already?" As it turns out, I was not only able to get incredibly cold (my toes took hours to defrost), but also take pictures of all sorts animals, not just lions and dragons--there were turtles, too! To the best of my knowledge, hey weren't of the mutant or ninja variety--although they may have possibly known some House of Flying Daggers-style kung-fu--but I'll take what I can get.
Summer (Not Winter) Palace. Obviously I went to the Summer Palace again. So I thought I'd put up a few pictures, this time of the Summer Palace in the snow, just to show you the one thing more useless than a large marble boat: a large marble boat in a frozen lake. I mean, seriously, that's pretty useless.
Temple of Heaven. Because I haven't seen enough temples here yet, I thought maybe I should go see--and take pictures of!--the biggest temple "complex" in Beijing, the Temple of Heaven. Although as far as I can tell, despite the fact there were at least three large temples there--as well as a big old circular altar for good measure--not one of them was actually called the Temple of Heaven. Confusing.
Frostbite Can Be Fun!
On a side note, it's funny how the Celsius scale makes everything seem so much colder. For example, tonight the low here is supposed to be -8 degrees C. Turns out, that's a balmy 16 degrees using the old, reliable Fahrenheit system. Not that 16 degrees is warm, but -8 sounds worse, doesn't it? Of course, when I'm walking back from dinner tonight, I'm sure I'll think 16 degrees with a pleasant, particulate-filled wind blowing in my face is plenty cold. Just a guess.
Pictures
Because I know you have all just come back from a long weekend--Happy New Year, by the way--I figure you have nothing to do than look at pictures of all the places I've been in the last few weeks. (I'm not wrong, am I?) Yes, while you were all pretending to have fun at your office holiday party; eating "just one more" cookie because it was Christmas and, somehow, the calories would magically disappear at 12:01 AM on December 26 (let me know how that worked out, by the way); acting like a nice pair of wool socks was really what you wanted more than anything else for your gift; and nestling down in your nice, warm beds with visions of sugarplums or whatever it was that you really wanted for a gift dancing through your collective heads, I--your intrepid reporter--was out braving the cold, the wind, the snow, and the snot-blackening pollution I have mentioned before to take these pictures for you. Consider them a special holiday gift, from me to you. That is what you wanted, right?
Great Wall! Did Robin ever say "Great Wall, Batman!" on the Batman TV show? If not, he should have. Either way, I went to the Great Wall again, this time to the Badaling section. Because really, one picture of a big, never-ending stone wall is just not enough. Happily, it was just as warm there as at it was at the Summer Palace--sure, there wasn't any frozen lake, but it made up for that by being up in the mountains. How considerate.
Lama Temple. On the one day here that it actually snowed, I thought to myself, "Hey, why not go visit the biggest Buddhist monastery in Beijing and see how cold I can get. Oh, and maybe also see if I can take even more pictures of lions and slash or dragons, because I haven't taken enough already?" As it turns out, I was not only able to get incredibly cold (my toes took hours to defrost), but also take pictures of all sorts animals, not just lions and dragons--there were turtles, too! To the best of my knowledge, hey weren't of the mutant or ninja variety--although they may have possibly known some House of Flying Daggers-style kung-fu--but I'll take what I can get.
Summer (Not Winter) Palace. Obviously I went to the Summer Palace again. So I thought I'd put up a few pictures, this time of the Summer Palace in the snow, just to show you the one thing more useless than a large marble boat: a large marble boat in a frozen lake. I mean, seriously, that's pretty useless.
Temple of Heaven. Because I haven't seen enough temples here yet, I thought maybe I should go see--and take pictures of!--the biggest temple "complex" in Beijing, the Temple of Heaven. Although as far as I can tell, despite the fact there were at least three large temples there--as well as a big old circular altar for good measure--not one of them was actually called the Temple of Heaven. Confusing.
