The taxi dropped us off on the Ghost Street around midnight. There were cars, lights, and people everywhere. There didn't seem to be any traffic rules. Cars wove in and out of each other at intersections, and groups of people argued with taxi drivers and each other. It was bright and loud. Every place looked like a restaurant. Men sat on stools around short tables eating and smoking. They watched me fumble with my suitcase. I tripped over curbs and the bag on top kept tipping off. We walked back and forth down the same street as Josh said, "Oh yeah, this way, I know where we are," and then wouldn't say anything, but would stop and turn around, taking us back the other way.
Ghost Street (Gui Jie) is not as exciting as it sounds because there aren't any ghosts on it. The English is a mis-translation of gui, which according to my dictionary app has too many meanings, depending on character or tone, for me to sift through. Lonely Planet has an explanation here. This Ghost Street is known for restaurants, shops, and staying open late. I probably looked like the most ridiculous ghost, wide-eyed and lost, suitcase-laden.
We finally dragged the bags over broken sidewalks to find a sign for Da Ju Hutong which is a dark alley that runs parallel to the main street. The alley was narrow and crooked and old men stood or walked slowly smoking cigarettes. There were few people, but stray dogs, and all the doorways were invisible. We wandered down the alley. I squeezed behind a truck that was loading or unloading. At this point--late, in the alley, after the twelve hour flight from Denver to Tokyo and the three and a half hour flight from Tokyo to Beijing, then walking forever through the airport, waiting in line for a taxi, following Josh through ghost crowds then blindly into an alley--I became kind of irritated. We turned the flashlight on the phone and shined it on doors, looking for a red one with the number 28. The alley felt very, very long until we found it.
The door was, of course, locked. Josh hadn't paid his China Mobile bill, so his phone service didn't work. Our host, Qun, knew we were coming in late, but after a few knocks, no one came. I stood there. There doesn't seem to be much you can do at midnight in an alley in Beijing with no phone. I suggested knocking louder which worked.
The door opened to a small, open space where a scooter and a few bikes are kept. Then two doors branch off, and Qun led us to the one on the left. The door opened to a small courtyard with rooms lined on the left and a kitchen directly ahead. His roommate poked her head out and they exchanged something in Chinese. We apologized, and he said no problem. He got us two large bottles of water, showed us the wifi password, and we arranged to meet in the morning to go to the police station and register as temporary foreign visitors.
I woke up very early and looked around.
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| Entrance to #28: courtyard, kitchen ahead |
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| view from the kitchen |
Saturday was an exceptionally nice day, I'm told. It was raining when we went out, and not many places were open. We ordered some pastries from a small window. One was sesame-something and the other a fried sweet bean curd bun. Then we came to a steamed bun place that had a long line and boasted an English menu. I watched a tattooed, hip-looking white guy with a dog order his breakfast flawlessly without even looking in our direction. The menu outside the door was in English, but the guy didn't speak a word, so Josh pointed at the sign. They were out of whatever he pointed to, and the guy just handed us two mystery buns and a warm soy milk.
The street was dirty and wet, and there weren't many people around. Josh made me find our way back, but it wasn't hard. We are near a major subway stop, and there were strange enough names of things for me to make landmark directions. Left at subway, right at Hi-24 market, left at ladies frying up breakfast.
We ate the buns and drank the milk back in the kitchen. Then we decided to go find the Lama Temple since it was only like 8:00 and we weren't meeting Qun until 10:00.
Somehow we found this street, which I liked a lot. It was quiet, and there were lots of cafes. I need to find some spots where I can post up and hang out between explorations.
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| name of the street so I don't forget |
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| historical information about the street, which houses a Confucian Temple and College |
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| typo graffiti |
Through some miracle, Josh asked a lady in a shop what it was, and she told him, and we looked it up in the dictionary. His name is Tu'er Ye (兔儿爷), and he is popular during the mid-autumn festival. Super weird.
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| must buy these for our plate collection |
After a long walk, we headed back to meet Qun. He walked us to the police station and showed us around on the way. Qun is a twenty-something app developer who opened up one of his rental spots to Airbnb to meet foreigners. He likes to travel and is developing travel apps for Chinese people locally and abroad. His English is awesome, and he is extraordinarily helpful. While we were waiting in line at the police station, he fixed Josh's phone problem by calling China Mobile and paying the charge through an app on his own phone. He told us what he likes and doesn't like about China, and he told us to eat breakfast with the ladies on the corner. He showed us the characters for what to order. Josh kept asking for more food recommendations, so we ended up just going to lunch. We walked through another part of the hutong and down a street we hadn't tried yet. I tried to pay attention, but when you can't read anything, it somehow all looks the same. He did, however, point out the bookstore.
We went to a noodle place and Qun ordered way too much food.
Short nap, back out. Josh insisted that even though I was tired and headachey, we should persist to adjust to the time change.
We hopped on the subway (which has English signs, thank Tu'er Ye), and went two stops down, walked forever among big buildings and museums and other things, until we hit a Disney World place with tour buses and tour groups and guys on rickshaws that say "hello, hello, hello" until you say, "bu yao" (don't want) like six times until they look pissed and pedal away. We went into Jingshan Park. Jingshan Park is a huge preserved space with lots of trees. There were a ton of people there. I guess it's historical. We mostly went for the view:
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| people taking pictures of the view of the Forbidden City |
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| view of the Forbidden City |
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| best part of the sign is faded from so many people being like what the heck |
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| dress your kid up like a lama |
We found ourselves sitting on a ledge chugging a bottle of water. Josh wanted to take the subway a few more stops to a bar he knows or go get a massage. I wanted to go back and sit down.
(According to my iPhone's pedometer (the accuracy of which I doubt?), we walked over thirteen miles.)
We walked all the way back to the station, wandered back down the alley, and landed in bed. I set my alarm for twenty minutes--just a cat nap as it was only 6:00 pm. Catnap, leftover Beijing burger then... I woke up at 3 am. Red lanterns shined outside the window. I was fully dressed, earrings too. I laid in bed for a while, trying to fall back asleep, to wake up at a normal hour. It didn't work. Now it is almost 5:00 am here (3:00 pm in Colorado), and I'm wondering what time the ladies on the corner start making whatever it is I'm supposed to order.
