Eric's Beijing Diary

Sitting here at KFC in Chengde scribbling on a placemat. The Muzak, some new rising star singing the Mandarin version of "Lemon Tree," has been serenading me as I finish the day by reading The Life and Adventures of Morrison of Peking. Morrison, the swashbuckling adventurer, doctor, journalist, and finally consultant to the government of Yuan Shikai, writes of the few days he spent as a guest in the China Inland Mission House in the autumn of 1893 (there were no youth hostels in those days):

You will be delighted to hear what a blessed time I have been having with the Missionaries. Today, for instance. Called 7. Breakfast 7:30. Prodigiously long grace then prayers, including Psalms, Bible-reading and prayer for 20 minutes. Then to hospital. Address by Doctor to outpatients kneeling down in outpatients' room among a lot of dirty Chinamen. Then lunch with grace and then a special prayer for one of the seven missionary divisions of China. Then afternoon tea with grace and special prayer for the conversion of all Unitarians. Then to dinner with Doctor--grace, and in the evening, music, hymns, etc., a most blessed conversation concerning the conversion of a sea captain by the Doctor's sister and then family prayers. Then home or would have had more. Total 10 hours, having sung 26 hymns, 25 being out of tune, have had prayers 17 times and have put in gracious word for Heathen of all lands and of every color. I am making up for lost time with a vengeance.

It's perhaps unfair to judge the whole British Empire by the words of one man, but Morrson's description seems so typical of the superior attitude toward the laobaixing that seemed to prevail amoung westerners doing business in China.

Yesterday, I went to the ticket office outside the East Gate to try to buy a ticket for today. Meiyou. Not surprised, of course. This is the May holiday. I went to Pizza Hut to do some studying, and finally decided to try and get a ticket for the following day, even though i didn't want to leave that late in the week. To my surprise, when I got to the ticket office, they had the ticket I had asked them for previously. Mysterious. Not sure if they goofed the first time, or if the tickets suddenly became available. And if so, how could that have happened? Have to think about that one for awhile.

I left Beijing this morning on the 11:15 train. Claire met me at the train station here in Chengde. Her father had arranged for me to stay at a small, private hotel for 50 RMB per night. I have wanted, for some time, to visit the Imperial Summer Villa. But Chengde, like other places in this part of the country, is not easy for a foreigner to visit. Not like Western China. If I had come on my own, I would probably have had to pay 8 to 10 times that much. There are no youth hostels in Chengde. It really makes a difference. When I was first told that there were no tickets to Chengde, I called the Youth Hostel in Suzhou. I thought I might go there instead. The guy at the youth hostel told me they were booked up. Of course I was not surprised. Then he asked me if I had a sleeping bag, and offered find a place for me on the floor. That's the way with youth hostels. They are just much more flexible. In the Summer of 1988, I traveled throughout the United States and Canada, and stayed at many youth hostels. I never made advance reservations, and was never turned away, in spite of the fact that I was traveling with three children. Heather was 7 (she had her 8th birthday on our trip), Juliana was 6. And Melissa was 3. Not luxury accommodations, by any means, but comfortable. In Thunder Bay, Ontario, we stayed in an off-beat rural hostel and slept in an old school bus. In Ottawa, we stayed in the old jail hostel. In Philadelphia, we stayed at the Chamounix Mansion hostel, a home that was built when Jefferson was President. There are lots of youth hostels in Canada, and also quite a few on the East Coast of the United States. Youth hostels in China pretty much follow the international standard. They are clean, neat and provide needed travel services. They usually have a travel desk, where you can get information and purchase tickets. And there is another thing about youth hostels in China that is not commonly known. Although most backpackers prefer the low cost, dormitory style accommodations, every youth hostel I have stayed at in China, also has a few private family rooms for those who want to pay for them. And the price is not high by American standards, perhaps 20-40 US dollars a night. I have never stayed in them, because, as a single person, I prefer the dormitory--the low cost gives me much more schedule flexibility, since I day more or less involves a cost difference of only a few dollars.

As soon as I got off the train, I went to the ticket window to purchase a return ticket to Beijing. No luck. That's one of the hazards of traveling during "Golden Week." Even if you are able to get a ticket to your chosen destination, you may have trouble getting back. We walked outside and were immediately confronted by a husband-wife team of ticket scalpers. They had a whole pocketful of tickets for the date I needed, and were selling them for a price about 20 RMB (two-and-a-half dollars) over the face value. I hate doing business with ticket scalpers, and there are a number of busses going to Beijing from Chengde, so I decided to postpone the decision. In the end though, I ended up going back later in the evening and buying a ticket. I guess I can't really complain if an enterprising soul wants to buy a bunch of tickets on speculation, as long as he or she assumes all the risk. But if someone is being given money under the table to cancel out the tickets that don't sell, then this would definitely not be good. I can't tell for sure which was the case in this instance, but I sure wish I knew, because there is a lot of this kind of thing going on in China these days.