Mike Chrisp

We both had a very restless night's sleep. It was still very warm and the air conditioning was hardly working. Tim was up early and started sorting out his gear. Eventually I finally rolled out of bed and drifted into the bathroom for a shower. The pounding headache I had developed earlier started up once more.

I got to see Tim's new Panasonic high definition camera, which I nicknamed "Fat Boy" due to its boxy shape and size. We swapped camera stories whilst Tim played around with my new Nikon D200. The whole point to our trip was shooting in digital format whether it was in still or movie mode.

After breakfast we took the laptop I had borrowed from my daughter Corinne and tried to make the Iridium satellite phone link up so that we could send dispatches and photographs to Holly Boelter back in Minneapolis who was coordinating the web site. Eventually we managed to get everything working and sent a dispatch to Holly.

While we sat by the pool in the hotel grounds it started snowing when great clumps of cotton started drifting down off the trees. We decided to visit Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City and managing to grab a lift from one of the Hotel buses going to the China world Trade Centre.

On arriving at our drop of point, Guomao, we consulted the Lonely Plants guide and decided to try the Beijing Metro. By the time we reached the ticket office, the queue was about one hundred deep. So we decided to walk the two and a half miles along Jianguomenwai Dajie into the heart of the city stopping occasionally to film or photograph things we found interesting.

"Hello, you from America?" A voice asked.

A short round-faced man with glasses started to walk with us. We found out that his name was "Fifi" and that he was a professor of Art. He taught drawing, painting. His studio was nearby, would we like to see some of his work.

We turned off the main road and accompanied him to a large single room off a courtyard. The walls were covered with all sorts of painting from still life to classic views of the great wall and prancing horses. We received a complete lesson on the symbolism behind some of the pieces. He asked us more about a journey and went into great detail about painting on silk.

Everything was either his or his wife's own work. There were also a few pieces by his students. Tim was very taken by three paintings all on silk and decided to buy one. I on the other hand had seen a painting of Chinese princesses playing "Polo" which I decided to buy. The professor told us that Polo had been brought to China hundreds of years ago from Iran and was the favourite pastime of the princesses and concubines. We decided on a fee but did not have enough hard currency with us.

"We'll come back on our return," said Tim.

"When will that be?" Said the professor.

"Oh, in about a month's time. Do you have a card so that we can contact you?"

"Tell you what," said the professor, "I will come back to your hotel and you can pay me there. It's no problem. I will just call my wife. I have a few hours so it's no problem."

Tim filmed the studio and took some footage of the silk paintings. Then he got the professor to speak a little about the four stages of culture as depicted in four paintings about the great wall in spring, summer, autumn and winter but they also represented tea, herbs, art and silk.

The professor packaged up our art into long cardboard boxes all the time talking about the art. Finally he ushered us out of the studio and we went back to the main road.

"Where do you want to go now?" He asked.

"Well we were planning on going to Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City."

We both replied.

"You don't want to go to the Forbidden City - too crowded."

We had both forgotten that today was May 1st, Labour Day and every man and his wife and child would be out and about.

"We'll go to Tiananmen Square and see." Said the professor. "Shall we take a taxi."

A taxi sounded really good at the moment, after all the temperature had risen quite sharply and it was still a long way to the Square. In no time at all we were piling into a cab and joined the heavy traffic going downtown. As we drove the professor pointed out various places of interest.

"American Embassy there." He pointed to our right.

"Bush stayed there." He waved to a building set back behind the main buildings - The St. Regis. "Lot's of dogs went through building and there was much security. I think they were looking for bombs."

"Nixon stayed there when he came in 1972." He pointed out another hotel complex its name lost over the sound of traffic horns.

As we approached Tiananmen Square the traffic slowed to a crawl. There were quite literally thousands of people crowding the walkways. Suddenly there were the benign looking features of Mao Zhedong looking out from the Gate of Heavenly Peace. Set high above the entrance to the Forbidden City, it faced out across the world's largest open public space. This was the centre of the Chinese world. It was here too that the world stopped and held its breath in 1989 as pro-democracy demonstrators stopped Tanks in their tracks. Standing in their way while looking down the barrel of a heavy calibre gun waiting to be crushed at any moment.

We had to get out and see for ourselves. Experience the vastness of the square but not from a taxi. We wanted to walk out among the thousands and thousands of people. The taxi driver pulled over and we piled out. The professor carried Tim's painting box but somehow I never managed to divest myself of mine and had to carry it around with me the whole time while navigating our way through the huge crowds or while taking photographs.

We walked around a corner until we could cross the road a crossing point. The cars do not stop and the sound of horns blaring was overwhelming. Any one caught in the middle had to stand nervously for a few moments as avoiding cars would narrowly brush passed them. We made our way passed the Great Hall of the People and continued on towards the Monument to the People's Heroes. Large light poles, which were used to illuminate the monument, also carried cameras. We were constantly under observation. Not only from the state but also from passers by who would just come up to us and stare. The professor told us that they were out-of-towners and had probably never seen a white foreigner. The other problem we had was Tim's camera: the Fat Boy. As he snatched film footage he was constantly being pushed in the back by curious locals. We had to cluster around him to "protect" him. The professor was worried that we should not stay too long in any one space in case we drew the attention of the Police.

"Are you happy to be with us." Tim asked. "Do you mind being in our film?"

"It's okay but not if for political purpose." He replied.

Every now and then we would become separated by the mass of people but somehow or ever we managed to find each other. The professor stayed constantly at Tim's side.

The Monument to the People's Heroes had various scenes of China's struggles over the last few hundred years and the professor took great delight in telling us that in one of the friezes was depicted Lin Zexu destroying opium against the French and the British during the 19th century. Chairman Mao's Mausoleum was closed so we never got to see the man responsible for so much change in China's evolution.

We crossed to the museum of Chinese History before making our way back to the Great Hall of the People.  This enormous building houses the National Peoples Congress where 10,000 representatives from all over China meet. It has a 5000 seat banqueting Hall. At the top of the square we passed down into an underpass an cool air greeted us. We followed the throngs of holidaymakers controlled by the Police through bullhorns and finally exited just outside the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

Hundreds besieged the ticket offices - the professor was right, it was too crowded. We would have to come back later when we returned.

"You must come early maybe in the week or even at the end." He said.

We were drawn along to the large image of Mao Zhedong. Passing a large stone Lion on our left we crossed over a narrow bridge saturated with Policemen. I stepped aside to photograph the great innovator set above the largest gates, which breach the 15th century Imperial Wall and turned around to find Tim and the professor had gone. Thinking that they had already passed through the gate I was carried along in a human stream down a long dark passageway, which opened into a large courtyard.

I could not see them. I walked on a little way but still no sign, so I decided to backtrack but the Police were stopping anyone from exiting through the same gate. I was surrounded by people and yet felt totally alone. I kept scouring the faces and after five minutes saw Tim and the professor coming out of the passageway.

"Children should be kept on a lead." He beamed at me.

We passed through another archway and then left the complex through a side door. Following the path we meandered around the outer wall. There were people boating in large pedelos in the shape of a duck on a lake and others just flopped out on the grass sleeping off the heat of the day.

"Can you help me?" A voice came out of the crowd. A young Chinese girl in sunglasses with a map wanted directions.

"I'm sorry, I have no idea but our friend might help. Hey professor can you help." The professor wrote down directions to give any taxi driver, which should get them to their destination. She was Mongolian but lived in Australia and was on holiday with a couple of friends. They thanked us profusely and we parted company.

We crossed over a bridge and were met by a group of rickshaw drivers. They pleaded with us for trade and we refused. At that moment the police arrived and moved them on. As we walked along they cycled parallel with us. Finally the professor asked if we wanted to go to the Hutong. A rabbit warren of single storey dilapidated modern and ancient buildings criss-crossed by a system of narrow alleys and small courtyards from the Yuan Dynasty. This was the real China.

We promptly agreed and after some haggling set a fee of 15 Yuan for each of the drivers. We set off with the professor and myself in the front with Tim filming as we were transported down the narrow streets. I doubt if we had gone more than 300 metres before we turned off into a collection of tiny alleyways having to get out when the steepness prevented the driver from moving forward. Our driver stopped and spoke to the professor who turned and asked me if we wanted to carry on a tour of the Hutong with the drivers.

Tim and I decided against it and I could see the professor looking at his watch. So it came to time to pay.  It should have been 30 Yuan in total but not having enough small change I offered a 50 Yuan note. My Driver beamed. I said I wanted change. The professor translated.

"No change!" The driver stated.

This caused a bit of a stand off. After a while the other driver offered 10 Yuan.

"No good! We agreed 15 each." I said.

"Hey, I've got enough," said Tim. "Give him back his money."

They were reluctant but eventually we were all sorted out and we walked off to much muttering.

"Are you hungry, Professor?" We asked as we walked through the narrow alleyways occasionally bumping into brand new 4x4s parked outside a decaying old house. We turned out into a larger roadway and he started looking for a "good restaurant.

"You like spicy food?" He asked.

"It's okay," we replied.

"This is good place," he assured us as we entered a tired looking low-rise building. We moved close to the door, as there were lots of people smoking. A waitress came over and brought a menu with photographs of their fare. Tim and I ordered beer and water the professor just had water. Over a lunch of noodles he asked us about our lives in America and Britain and got quite animated when we discussed workers having time off for holidays.

"You know," he said, "Some people in China work all the time 7 days a week and then they just fall down dead." When we told him that most people only worked 40 hours a week and had weekends off, he could hardly believe it.

"If you want more money can you work longer?"

"Yes, if you want to but you can't be forced to. That's against the law."

He turned to me and asked, "Why do you not work all the time? You would make lots of money."

"If I were to do that I wouldn't be here in China experiencing this meal with you." He shrugged and called for the bill, which he proceeded to analyze.

"Water too expensive!" He remarked, "Only two Yuan in the store so why pay ten Yuan." This was commercialism. Perhaps the owners knew we probably would not be back there again perhaps they had to make a profit. After all, the professor was an artist not a businessman. We paid and left with the water bottles un-drunk in our pockets.

At the main road we picked up a taxi and returned to the hotel. Leaving the professor in the lobby we took the lift up to our room where we got the currency he required - US dollars - and returned to find him sitting on a sofa. Despite offering him some refreshment he just took his money shook our hands and disappeared out of the hotel.

We decided that we needed some water and not wanting to pay over the odds in the hotel wandered out into the town where we became the spectacle in a supermarket as we watched the live crabs and turtles in a large tank later to be someone's supper.

Tim and I went up to the room where we flaked out on our beds over come with tiredness. Eventually stirring around seven in the evening we forced ourselves to go down for dinner and found that the food woke us up. Deciding to relax we then watched a film on satellite television before drifting off into a fitful sleep.

—Mike Chrisp

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