Our Trip to the People's Republic of China
Day 04
Traffic in the Land of Bicycles
On Monday morning, as our bus took off for the Ming Tombs and Great Wall, the guide told us that we would finally see Beijing traffic. What we saw was a relative lack of gridlock on the expressway. We never caught view of the clogged bike lane. I assumed that our ease of movement was because private car ownership is rare. Instead, Beijing has more than 3 million bicycles, and its public transportation system has been allowed to blossom. Buses are a major form of transportation. Additionally, the Beijing subway system opened in late 1987. The subway runs more than 25 miles, is the only subway system in China, and is expected to expand.
We asked our female guide whether she drove a car. She told us that although she has a driver’s license, she does not own a car and is afraid to drive on the Beijing streets except very early in the morning or late at night (in other words, during dog-walking hours).
Beijing was once surrounded by city walls similar to Xi’an, but they were torn down to make room for the expressway, which follows their footprint. Below ground, the subway follows the same route. Instead of traffic lights at many intersections, the roads meet in a circle so that traffic keeps flowing.
We could tell the entrance to the subway by the large number of bicycles parked in front. An attendant is paid to guard the bikes until the owners' return. The bicycle lots certainly take much less space than a parking lot for the same number of cars.
The guide had explained to us how a family could have one bicycle for 40 years:
A young man buys a bicycle. He finds a girlfriend and invites her to ride on his handlebars. They get married. He adds a cart attached to the rear bumper in order to haul provisions for their home. They have a family, and the wife and child sit on the cart.
Jade Factory
Dingling, the Ming Tombs Museum
Like the Egyptians, the Chinese believed in supplying worldly goods for the afterlife. The Ming Tombs Museum is the "monumental graveyard" of the Ming Dynasty. Thirteen of the 16 Ming emperors (1409-1644) are interred in these underground palaces. The site measures 25 square miles at the foot of Tian-Shoushan mountain at Changping. The valley, which is protected on three sides by hills, was believed to have good Feng Shui.
Only one tomb has been excavated: Dingling, the burial palace of the 13th Ming Emperior Zhu Yuan (1553-1620) and his two empresses. The guide said that while opening the tombs is relatively easy, preserving its contents is not. Contact with the outside air causes decomposition. The Chinese do not plan to open the other tombs until they have the correct technology in place.
Construction of Dingling began in 1584. The work took six years at a cost of more than 800,000 taels of silver. (As we saw in the museum, a tael is a coin about twice the size of a silver dollar.)
The site includes both underground structures (including the burial chamber) and surface palaces. Most of the wooden ground-level buildings were destroyed at the end of the Ming Dynasty. They were partially rebuilt on a smaller scale during the Qing Dynastic, but burnt again during the republic period. The underground palace was preserved only because its true entrance had been concealed. Workers were sealed within the tomb when it was closed.
Archeologists discovered a marker buried by the architect, revealing the true entrance. The underground palace was excavated in 1956-1957 and the surface structures were repaired. The mausoleum opened as a museum in 1959.
One of my Ming Tombs postcards shows a wide boulevard lined with elephant and other animal sculptures. We never saw that grand entrance. We were greeted instead by construction fencing on either side of the parking lot. Our first stop was the museum, which holds the unearthed relics. Magnifying glasses in the glass cases revealed the fine detailing on the personal items.
As we went down the steps into the tomb, the brickwork looked quite modern because of its tight masonry. A special mixture of steamed glutinous rice and egg white had been used to cement the bricks. Within the underground chambers, we saw the thrones for the emperor and his empresses, as well as several giant red wooden crates. These were reproductions of the actual treasure coffins, which had decayed very soon after opening the tomb.
On the restored outside walls, we could differentiate the ancient brickwork from modern production by a stamp on the old bricks. Workers had been required to stamp each brick with their signature in case anything went wrong. The stamps are now a kind of immortality. From the top of the building, we could view other tombs in the distance.
The Great Wall
One of the Seven Great Wonders of the Ancient World
The Great Wall
The saying goes:
"One cannot be called a hero if he has not traveled along the Great Wall."
The Great Wall is the largest man-made feature on Earth. It is visible from outer space, snaking east to west over mountaintops and across deserts. It is located along the Yan Mountains about 40 miles (64 kilometers) northwest of Beijing.
Separate fiefdoms constructed the wall in pieces to protect against plundering barbarians from the north. Construction began between the 8th and 5th Centuries BC. In 221 BC, Qin Shi Huang conquered six neighboring states and became the first emperor of a united China. He is credited with building the Great Wall because he joined those smaller walls.
The wall follows the top-most crest of the mountains. The psychology was that the enemy would be disheartened after climbing the high mountains only to be met by walls.
The Han Dynasty (206 BC –220 AD), which followed the Qin, constructed fortifications and beacon towers along the wall. Guard towers were spaced approximately 200 yards (180 meters) apart because archers could shoot half that distance. Most of the wall still standing today was constructed during the Ming Dynasty. The final section of the wall was completed around 1600. The final length of the wall is 1500 miles (2400 km).
In the early period, the main body of the Great Wall was rammed earth. Later, every type of available material was used, including stones, planks, and boards, according to the natural conditions.
To the surprise of no one in the tour group, the path to the Great Wall began in a gift-shop area. Canned Chinese music filled the air. The wind was blowing very hard, adding to the difficulty of climbing huge stair steps up a steep incline. The view did not have the vibrant color shown in the postcards. The hills were brown and the trees were bare. This was the dry season and everything was parched.
Mother dropped out of the climb early on. Pat and I labored on, one guard tower at a time. At the third tower was a gift booth where I purchased small metal plaques for my mother and myself. Our names were engraved with the words, "I have climbed the Great Wall." Pat and I bought Great Wall tee shirts (with the same slogan) from an old woman next to a camel concession. For a fee, tourists could climb onto the camel and have their pictures taken with the wall as a backdrop. Gondolas lifted off at a higher guard tower, but we didn’t have enough time to take a ride.
A group of women coming downhill toward us giggled and pointed at me as I took a swig from my water bottle. I couldn’t figure out why they were making fun of me. Pat was able to translate their body language. They were thirsty and had run out of water. She gifted them with her water bottle amid shy laughter and polite bows.
After a few more snapshots, we literally ran back down the wall so as not to hold up the bus. I can truthfully claim that we not only climbed the wall, we ran on it–downhill anyway. As timid as I am in climbing at home, I kept thinking that my husband would never believe it. The wind was still very strong. As I ran, I kept grabbing the handrail and dodging other climbers to keep from tumbling overboard.
Japanese Bath at the New Otani Hotel
After climbing up and down the steps at the Great Wall, Pat and I both wanted to soak in a hot tub. Rather than compete for tub time, I went to the Japanese bath in the New Otani Hotel health club. I quickly saw that I was the only Caucasian in the area. The other women seemed to know each other and were chatting and laughing.
The bath rules were posted on the wall:
- No swim suits
- Shower before going in
- No skin diseases
- Be cautious with infants.
The bath area had a very large hot tub and a smaller pool of cold water. Neither tub featured Jacuzzi jets. One end of the room had Western-style showers. Opposite the pools were several scrubbing stations, each with a low stool, a mirror, a shelf, a hose, and a drain.
After appraising the scene, I stripped, took my shower, and ventured ever so slowly into the hot water. I was able to watch the rituals of the women nearby. The women would soak, then return to the scrubbing station to rub off dry skin with a pumice stone or loofa device—a long strip with wooden handles on each side for pulling. They filled pails of water from the hose and doused themselves from the pail. They repeated the same back-and-forth routine so many times that I was sure they must be very, very clean.
After soaking in the hot tub until I began to fear for my blood pressure, I went into the icy water. Again, I eased in slowly, but the shock still made my head swim. I felt faint but managed to ease in totally and let the cold water carry away the flush I had felt moments before. Even as I returned to normal body temperature, I became afraid of hypothermia. I went back to the hot tub. This time it felt like bath water.
The chatting women went into the sauna. They carried the pails of water to pour over the coals. After a day of having all the moisture sucked out of me by the warm wind at the Great Wall, I was not about to joint them. Instead, I opted for the steam room by myself. I had told Pat that I would let her have the room to herself until 6:30, and I still had half an hour to go. Fortunately, I found that I could tolerate the steam room much longer than either the hot- or cold-water pools. I laid my towel out on the wooden bench and lay on it with my eyes closed, simply listening to the sound of the steam vents and freeing myself of any other thoughts.
