Beijing

I arrived in Beijing around 11am, and boarded a city bus to get to the central train station. When I sat down next to this guy, he tried to say something to me in Mandarin. I returned his question with a look of ignorance and a hand gesture that said I didn't understand any Chinese. He and his friends, who were sitting behind us, had a good laugh - what was someone who couldn't understand any Chinese doing on a local bus?

I met a woman from Spain on the bus, and our median language was French. She asked me to help her buy a train ticket to Lhasa, since she didn't speak much English. We tried to figure out where the tourist booking office was, but after 1.5 hours of trying to have conversations in a language that the train station employees didn't understand, we accepted defeat. She didn't have a place to stay, and my hostel was within her budget, so she decided to go with me.

The directions to the hostel seemed easy - we took the subway to Tiananmen Square, and proceeded south. We were looking for a main street; it seemed easy. As we were walking, there were many alleyways leading into the hutongs (which is like a small neighborhood made up of small interconnected footpaths). The distance from the train station to the hostel was about 600 meters. 45 minutes later, by employing an interesting mix of approaching someone and saying the street name (da zha lan) and pointing in a direction, coupled with showing the passersby the Chinese characters, we reached the street. No one seemed to know exactly where it was, but by asking about a different person every block, we were proceeding in the correct direction. I couldn't have been happier to drop off my bag; I was getting frustrated and tired of carrying it.

The worst thing about the tourist attractions in Beijing is that they generally close around 4pm. By the time we got to the hostel, it was about 3pm. Since I couldn't see the Great Wall or the Forbidden City, we decided to walk around Tiananmen Square. China reminds me of Vietnam; people conduct most of their lives on the street. There are street stalls everywhere, serving food, selling wares, people offering services such as shoe repair or haircuts. There were the usual hawkers; selling everything from pirated DVDs to fake North Face jackets. The beggars were out in full force too - and they were hardcore. I saw a man with no legs, another man that looked like a lump of taunt and twisted skin (a burn victim perhaps), his face a smear of discolored flesh. If that wasn't enough, he was also missing both arms. The pity for these people, coupled with the desire to look at them makes you feel a bit uncomfortable.

After getting a good feel for Beijing by walking around and hanging out, we headed back to the hostel for dinner. I've read countless posts from other travellers who warned against staying out at night, due to theft or muggings. That's the last way that I want to start my vacation; I haven't even reached Mongolia yet.