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December
14, 1999
This is
Todd Borgie and believe it or not, we're still in Beijing!
The morning greeted us with another possibility of getting the Rovers.
Although reassurances had been made, no one was sporting enough to put
money down on the prospect of the cars being released today. We had to
find peace in the fact that they were in the country,
locked up tight and safe in large, wooden crates.
The team rallied this morning and decided the hotel breakfast was a
little more than we could take. Although it was a nice little buffet, the
team's American pallets, and Jeff's overwhelming patronage and taste for
McDonald’s, was all the team needed to steer to the nearest American fast
food joint.
Although I must confess that the prospect of an Egg McMuffin sounded
somewhat soothing, I could not bring myself to patronize this American
food giant. I could take the high ground here and make the claim that since
we were in China we should be getting the most out of the experience,
therefore eating local, however, I returned yet again to the tourist
buffet in the hotel in which we were staying. It was cheap, there was no
stress in ordering, and I knew what was available. After all is said and
done, not much different than going to McDonalds -- although I saved a
few bucks (yuan).
My adventure really started as I left the hotel. I wanted to check out
the museum of natural history. When touring a country, especially by car
or rail, I like to figure out the forces and events that carved out the
present landscape. Where are the deserts, the jungles, the mountains?
What are the flora and the fauna like? And how does it differ from the
places I consider familiar? More important to me: the migration patterns
of the ancient people that settled in this place. Where were they from
and who were the closest cultural neighbors? I thought this museum would
uncover many of the answers to my questions, so questions continued to
spawn as I walked toward the museum.
My walk sent me down the busy streets of Beijing into the calming
atmosphere of Tian Tan Park (or the park of the Temple of Heaven). At
about 8:30 a.m. this place was alive. Many people were exercising,
dancing and walking. The place had been newly painted in commemoration of
the revolution and many colorful plants had been placed to accent the
newly painted and cleaned areas. After walking for about a half hour I
came to the other side of the park and ventured into what seemed like a
market area. I hung a quick right and came upon the Museum of Natural
History. I bought my ticket and went in.
There were many things to see, but the displays were very generic and
not too informative. There were maps and specimens of a variety of
extinct creatures and plants, but the information was more along the
lines of a biology textbook than Chinese history. Nevertheless, hoping to
get my money's worth, I roamed around for an hour, hopelessly lost in the
Chinese descriptions. It was like reading comic book from only the
pictures. It can be engaging, but there’s no way to understand the story.
After growing bored, I departed for the city center in hopes of a more
complete cultural experience.
I walked through the busy streets, listening to the horns and looking
through the glass windows. The streets and shops were very colorful and
were all decked with signs advertising their specific wares. However,
there were some striking differences between the shops I was used to in
the States and what was before me. In hindsight, I think it was due to a
great lack of marketing, or ``detail orientation,’’ as marketers would
refer to it. The shops were clean but had a haphazardness about them that
seemed sort of primitive to the western eye. Instead of individually
wrapped and boxed items there were shelves with the actual items on them.
The hardware was set out in more of a grab-bag style. Hunting was
required rather than shopping. I don't think if you went up to a
storekeeper and asked for a specific item that he would necessarily know
where it was or if he had one. He would probably ponder the question, ask
a co-worker, or ask why you needed that particular item: Could you find
something else to fix for the problem, using the stuff available in the
store? The stores were definitely not perfect, at least not by western
standards, but they certainly had a homey quality if you were willing to
try to tackle the language barrier. Also, I wonder how Chinese landfills
would compare to the west. All of our intricate packaging might be
helpful and sanitary, but what is the cost?
I finally made my way to Tianamen Square. I had been to Beijing
earlier but there was one sight I hadn't seen: Mao. In the middle of
Tianamen Square, Mao Tse-tung lies patiently in his airtight room while
millions of onlookers pay their respects with flowers, money and deep
thought. Security is high around this national treasure. You are not
allowed to bring cameras, purses or any kind of bags into the mausoleum,
regardless of what is in them. I was traveling with a goat bag, a coat,
camera and map, therefore I had to make a deal with someone to watch my
bag. I saw a white couple that looked as though they were having the same
trouble as me, so I walked up and offered to watch their bags if they
would watch mine. At first they were a bit suspicious of me, but probably
realized that I didn't come 10,000 miles to steal bags. In any case, I
went in with the Danish woman as her husband watched our bags.
The line was long, but moved steadily. You could buy flowers to place
in the foyer of the room that held Mao. Many people did. You could not
stand and gaze at Mao, as guards kept the crowds moving. The crowds moved
at a slow pace around both sides of him, yet no one could stop. It was
kind of strange seeing his dead waxen face so well preserved that if he
winked you wouldn't have been surprised. It was fascinating watching the
reverence these people showed for the founding father of their country.
It filled the air and infected me. At this time I felt like I was a real
part of history, imagining the long Chinese March and the transformation
of China under his rule. I wondered if he was just a man or was born with
some sort of clairvoyance that he used in ascension to power. Who knows,
but I will always remember him there, looking like he could awake at any
moment.
My thoughts of China had changed from the time I entered Mao's resting
place to the time I left. I had put a face on China and its struggles. I
think as we learn history we all create images that are unique to us. We
view it as a boulder and not as the parts that make up the large
monolith. China was always a single entity: We watched negotiations
between Uncle Sam and China like spectators watching a boxing match.
Seeing the interaction between the leader and the followers/inheritors of
history made me feel as though we are what moves history. I didn't see
China as a monolith, but more as a composite of very disparate
components, much like the United States. There are so many more similarities
between people than differences. Perhaps this experience made me feel
like a citizen of the world, an actor rather than an observer.
After this I headed back to the hotel seeking a Land Rover update, as
well as a commitment from my teammates to go see Mao. By the time I had
returned to the hotel, Rover negotiations were well under way. If all
went well we would be driving the Rovers to the hotel that very evening.
My last mission in Beijing was to track down a string of pearls for my
mother. A recent robbery had left her without the string of pearls that
she often wore. Chanda had schooled me in what to look for in pearls and
how to distinguish the difference between real and fake pearls. She said
if they felt rough as you rubbed them across your teeth that they were
real, the fake ones would be smooth. I went shopping with this in mind. I
looked and looked, and finally found my way to a backstreet department
store and ultimately into a small jewelry room. The salesman spoke enough
English that we could communicate, and of course all the prices were
written in the numerical characters I understood. One of the best
communication tools in the marketplace is a calculator. Everyone knows
the number characters, and everyone knows that this is how you negotiate.
One person types in a number, the other follows with a counteroffer, and
usually, both sides finally agree on a price.
I found the string of pearls I wanted, and using Chanda's test I tried
to determine whether they were real. They seemed slightly rough, and of
course, the salesman assured me that they were as real as they come. I
think the bidding started at over 1000 Yuan. As I hemmed, hawed, looked
into my wallet, and exhibited general wishwashy interest, the price
rapidly fell. He asked me what I was willing to pay, and I guiltily
replied I only had about 200 Yuan. Upon hearing that, his shoulders sank
and his head shook, and a bewildered chuckle emanated from his throat, at
which point it appeared as though I would be driven from the room.
He looked at me and asked whether I was kidding, at which point I held
my ground. He returned with an offer of 800 at which point I looked at
other cheaper merchandise as we chatted. Pretty soon the price was down
to 600 and then 500. Admiring his flexibility I countered with 300 and we
ultimately settled on 350 Yuan. Something was not quite right here, it
seemed. Did I just find the deal of a century or was there something
wrong? In any case, the transaction was completed, and I made my way back
to the hotel for Chanda to judge who was the fool.
Chanda's eyes lit up as she saw the string. The moment of truth was
quickly approaching. It was almost like she dragged the pearls to her
teeth in slow motion as I waited for the verdict. She rubbed them once,
then again, and then again. She hesitantly looked at me and told me they
were really very lovely, however, I knew what that meant. I was the fool.
At this point Chanda was feeling guilty that I had been taken, and
offered to jump into a taxi and take me to a place where I could purchase
a guaranteed string of quality pearls. We looked and looked and finally
settled on a string that matched my mother's specifications. I felt
relieved that Chanda was in the driver's seat as I knew what I wanted but
did not know the intricacies as Chanda did.
We returned to the hotel and quickly learned that we needed to leave
within 15 minutes to pick up the Rovers. We saw how people drove in China
and we were all giddy with anticipation at joining their ranks. Nick and
I were going to drive the cars back to the hotel. But to settle our
nerves, Jeff and Doug came along as spotters. There is so much activity
happening on the Chinese roads that we did not want to drive without
co-pilots.
We jumped in our guides' cars and made our way to where the Rovers
were being held. The areas became darker and darker as we drove out of
the city. We arrived in a dingy part of an industrial district. With our
Hollywood backgrounds, we expected a drug bust would happen at any
moment. We drove through a series of gates and saw a semi truck in what
looked like an otherwise vacant loading dock. At least, it looked like it
might have been a functional loading dock 30 years ago. We all
disembarked from our cars and lit cigarettes as to heighten the shady
image of this place that really didn't need any heightening. We broke the
seal on the 40-foot container doors and peered in. Sure enough, there
were two clean Land Rovers waiting to be extricated.
In true Land Rover adventurer style, we were met with our first car
challenge of the trip. The container was still on the semi truck trailer
and it had been backed up against a large stone landing. We climbed a set
of stairs about 4 feet and made an unfortunate discovery. There was a
height differential of about 2 feet between the loading dock landing and
the container which housed the Rovers. Doug, Jeff and our Chinese hosts
began to scurry around like mice looking for resources to solve this
problem. Nick and I entered the container to prepare the Rovers for their
first experience in China. The batteries had been disconnected a month
ago when the trucks were loaded so we connected them. There were a few
small sparks the moment the battery cable made contact with the terminal
and then suddenly Hercules’ CD player came to life, as it began blaring
The Clash's "Clamp Down." The fates were smiling upon us in
true Hollywood fashion.
By the time we managed to start the trucks, our unloading crew had
assembled a makeshift ramp out of some 6x6 wood posts. Although the rickety
ramp made us all a bit nervous, none of us had a decent alternative, so
we continued with the plan. It wasn't the first time these Land Rovers
had traversed a ramp-like tightrope but it was nerve-wracking watching
our umbilical cord to civilization descend 2 feet at such a strong angle.
But the ramp held and soon the Land Rovers emerged from the container and
rolled onto Chinese soil. The adventure began as Nick and I raced for
position down the Chinese highway. It was not enough for Doug that we flew
past Nick and into the lead Rover position: Doug had to further emphasize
this point by pulling down his pants and showing Nick and our Chinese
hosts the great Pape fissure through the rear window of Hercules. Nick
was mortified. Mr. Gao nearly fell off his seat in hysterics. Realizing
that no one was offended, Nick and Jeff soon joined Mr. Gao in his
thunderous laughter. We were all alive with excitement and ready to begin
our trip. It felt as though I had just gotten my driver's license and was
out on my maiden voyage with my friends.
When we returned to the hotel we all began working on the Rovers, each
team member attending to specific tasks from cleaning, to lubricating to
final electrical setup. The night became colder, but the excitement keep
us warm until we finally finished our work and returned to our respective
rooms at 1 a.m.. Tomorrow the adventure would officially begin and our
well-rested team was ready for anything.
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