* Beijing - Day 3 - uneventfully surreal

After waking at 5:30AM, I thought that today would be another day to take it easy. I'm tired, and it's terribly hot, so I started an early morning by heading down to see the Mao mausoleum and Tiananmen square -- I can't say that I share Alison's fascination with dead communist dictators (though communist statues are pretty awesome), but, the experience seemed like it would be unlike absolutely any other, and it was free (unlike everything else in the country, it seemed) so it seemed an ideal way to spend my early morning time.

I'd already heard from roommates etc. that you weren't allowed to bring bags etc. in with you to see Mao, and not trusting their bag check (and not wanting to line up twice), I went first thing after breakfast, and took nothing with me, not even my camera (I feel so naked without it). More significantly, Sabine had been prevented from entering the other day because she was wearing flipflops, and I wasn't keen on heading over only to be turned away, so I borrowed A's hiking boots (egads, that was really brutal in the 30C weather), which it turned out wasn't even necessary. The distinction between flipflops and sandals seems somewhat unclear in my head, though my mom says that it's well-ingrained in chinese tradition. "Slippers" (like, flip-flops, or anything that flips or flops, heh) just wouldn't be respectful enough. Anyway, I finally arrived at the mausoleum, recognizable not by any sign or statue outside it, but rather by the extensive queue of chinese tourists, lined up to pay their respects to the embalmed deadman.

Yes, you heard right. I said QUEUE.

Shocking. Chinese people actually forming a reasonable queue, 4 by 4... largely enforced by guard types standing around with megaphones, and the autorepeat annnouncement telling us the rules (line up 4 by 4, no bags, etc. etc. Which, ps., I was esctatic to be able to understand most of in my early broken mandarin!). Still, I've definitely seen the Chinese manage to NOT queue when the queue was enforced by narrow metal aisles, so the queue itself was impressive enough to make the event worthwhile.

Before entering, a fair number of people were buying roses (Y3) to lay at the large stone statue of Mao seated in the main hall of the mausoleum. Needless to say, I didn't buy a rose. Not that I don't think the man was an important (pivotal) character in Chinese history (I don't think it wrong to say that there wouldn't have been China, really, without him -- more on this when I get to writing about Shanghai... And not to say that he didn't do things wrong too, but still... pivotal). But... I'm not into hero worship. Nor martyrdom. Nor roses, for that matter.

We continued in line throught the main hall (roses, statue), where the line was split in two halves and herded around on either side of Mao's body in a well-lit glass case - which, btw, looks really fluorescent and waxy and eerie. I do, indeed, mean HERDED, quite literally. No slowing down, no turning, no stepping out of line, no talking, no anything but herding, in a respectful and dignified fashion past the body. Granted, I don't know about dignity, given that I've heard that Mao asked to be cremated -- oh politics, how you don't *really* change, no matter the affiliation you might give yourself.

Heh. Funny. I'd forgotten that this whole scenario was familiar; apparently, rules and the like for visiting Ho Chi Minh in Vietnam are equally strict - so Karim tells me, having caused a bit of an incident when he visited the place, being not so readily herded. ;)

Regardless, the herding is well-enforced until you're spat out the back of the building, where they release you back into the wilds to fend for yourself -- against about 12 or so tourist stalls selling every kind of Mao merchandise imaginable, including watches with a mechanical waving Mao in the face.

Yeah, as I said before, the idea of "dignity" or "respect" is... apparently a fluid political concept. The whole experience was rather surreal, but absolutely worthwhile, mostly for that very fact. It definitely triggers my "Seriously?" response, but in a good way.

Wandering back out into the square, the sales don't stop for even a second -- Tian'anmen merchandise consists mostly of kites (actually pretty cool), sunhats, and the instant photos with a monument of your choice -- popular at every tourist destination I visited in the country, except those truly in the boonies.

But, you know, I love that square. Talking to Garrett about it, we found we were at an impasse - he saw so much of the history, the bad parts version (not the 'good parts' version), that the place held nothing good. Until I hit Shanghai, nothing, no place or item, struck me with that kind of sadness. Inherent biases, which we both admittedly have, come into play too, but... beyond that... the fact that the square is fabulous now I won't let be overshadowed by its past. It is a place, and, my love of open plazas, of bustling people, of kite-flying, all of that takes precedent in the now. So it goes.

PS. I also got suckered into going to this 'student art exhibition' (aka. buy our expensive paintings you silly tourists), and G was with me at the time, and I felt sorry for dragging him into it. But, really, it worked out okay. We didn't get scammed into buying anything, and I got to practice my mandarin with someone who could actually speak enough English to translate when I didn't understand words - so, I still win. But, I mention it because it crops up a couple of other times in my narrative later on, especially by the time I hit Shanghai (the WORST city for scams and the like), so it's worth mentioning that I enjoyed that first experience with it. Obviously not for the reasons they intended, but that's their problem, not mine. :) It was only later experiences that made me cynical about it, really.