China Day 9—Beijing

This was our last day, and it dawned wet, snowy, and cold, and got worse from there. Not only did the snow increase, the temperature drop, and our dampness factor increase, but we had to say goodbye to our adventure and family so far away. As we rode the escalator down to the airport shuttle I cried; what can I say? I'm a big boob to be sure, but we all like those, don't we?

We did get to the zoo before we left and saw both the Giant Pandas and the Golden Monkeys, the latter of which can be seen only at the Beijing Zoo. It was cold and snowed continually, but we enjoyed our journey through the animals and even heard a white tiger roar. It was pretty awesome. It was also only the second time Jodi had ever been to the zoo; deprived childhood, don't you think? It was definite fun. After checking out of the hotel we enjoyed lunch at the same restaurant as last night's spectacular success; it was amazing again.

Unfortunately the snow also prevented our flight from leaving on time, but our 3 hour delay was rewarded with business class seats in which we slept beautifully all the way home.

This is a late post, and I've pondered often on our trip and every time I do, I'm both happy and grateful that we were able to enjoy such an amazing adventure. It was Liz's first international trip, her first passport stamp, and her first not being able to speak the language. I've been to a few different countries, but I've never gone East, and it's been six years since the last time my passport was stamped. I think this trip helped cement for us many future trips to various parts of the world. This one, however, set quite a high standard for me. The ability to live in a normal apartment and experience the world day to day was a choice experience. The landmarks were amazing, of course, especially that wall, but the opportunity to live and shop and move among people with a completely different culture was unlike any sightseeing I've ever done. I still can't speak any Mandarin worth bragging about, but I loved hearing people laugh when I attempted to say "thank you" with my much-practiced, but ultimately unpolished "xie xie." I also loved watching the older women fawn over Jaime and still wish I could ask them about China without the One Child Policy, "Good for the Nation, Good for the People." Since they predate the policy, how do they react to a little American baby who they know will likely have siblings in the future? Do they only see the beautiful and unusual baby, or do they see memory and hope? I see women who sleep on a makeshift bed behind a sheet hung in their three-walled food shop and work literally from dawn to dark making jian bing for customers on the street. Do they regard this as a slave's life? Are they discontent with a job that would be condemned on this side of he ocean by society, civil rights groups and the health department? Do they see their lives as struggling day to day to survive, or are they members of a proud working class that have marketable skills and a good place to sell their wares? It is questions like these that are never asked at the imperial palace in the midst of a multinational crowd armed with cameras and fanny packs. Unfortunately I'm not properly equipped to ask these questions, but encountering a reason to ask them of myself is vital and will be forever more rewarding than a mass-produced stone buddha or a pair of silk pajamas.

I'd like a few more vacations like that one, and I'm not so secretly hoping to have another in Nanjing before the summer ends. We'll see if I can get on the planes. I do hope so.