Insomnia, Nausea and Flirtations with Asthma

I got two whole hours of sleep last night. Worse, I got those two hours in one hour bursts on opposite ends of the night. It was a long night of frustration. So I guess it shouldn’t surprise me that I keep getting asked if I’m alright.

But today is big. Today we visit the Great Wall, and I refuse to miss it.

Breakfast is abuzz with tales of a long night for some of the guys in our group. They found a stretch of bars in town catering to “expats”, and the festivities went into the wee hours. Other tables are abuzz with details of this morning’s Chinese mass, which a group took in.

We head out to the lobby and hop into the tour bus. Our first stop is, where else, but a jade shop, an opportunity to invite us all to buy. A half-hour buying spree breaks out, with our locally-based professor gives the women a first-hand lesson in proper Chinese negotiation.

Prices are fluid, to put it mildly. Don’t like the price? Try walking away. Seller opens negotiation. Low ball them back – chances are it’s a highly inflated price anyway. Haggle until you find an acceptable meeting place.














Several of the ladies find some jewelry bargains, and we’re on our way to the Ming Tomb, burial pace of 13 emperors of the Ming Dynasty. We climb up a hill to go down a long series of stairs to the Underground Tomb. There we get a look at the throne, and more interestingly, the giant caskets.












We go up a long series of steps to the top to find the temple on the hill. It’s a nice view so we stop to take some shots with, and of, one another. My attempt to turn Brubaker into Steve McQueen falls apart when he moves his head before I can get the shot.



Off we go to lunch…









We’re taken to a local cloisonné center where make enameled knick-knacks and jewelry. Walking through, we come across this gem of an enameled plate.

The restaurant is two flights up. There are some shady, non-Chinese fellows outside the place, talking conspiratorially.

At lunch, we’re invited to try the local rice wine. A couple of bottles are left on the table. It’s 56% alcohol, but we decide to go through it anyway. It’s rough. It’s a cross between Sambucca and paint thinner. So taking more becomes a feat of strength.




On to the Great Wall. We pull up and head to the main plaza at this location. Once we’re together, we start to realize where we are. It took the Chinese a century to build this wall, as an effort to keep the Mongolians out. We make all kinds of jokes about it (“Did they think the Mongolians would show up and go, ‘When did THIS get here?’”), but before long we start to appreciate the reality of it. And then we start to appreciate how tough it is to climb it.















Sadly, the Flip cam erased the videos I had taken up there. But, good news, one of my classmates, John, is a pretty serious photographer. One of my other classmates, Pete, is setting up an ftp site for us to share all our photos, so check back in a week or so, and I’ll be sure to have a nice selection to share with you.

Now, all that aside, the Wall is a challenge. If you can deal with the remarkably steep climb, and the rickety steps, there is the whole additional challenge of surviving the vendors. They are relentless, and not above accosting you to make a sale. Some of us actually buy something in the hopes it’ll make them go away, but it only serves to encourage them.

I make them back off me for a bit when I holler “Xie xie, bu yia” (“Thank you, but no”) rather loudly. The woman in question then catches an attitude with me for my tone. She hollers at me as I walk past her.

Nevertheless, the wall is something to see. It’s not for the faint of heart. Apart from the previously mentioned downsides, you also have the bitter cold. Together, it leaves you breathless – literally. Many of us, people more able bodied than me, find themselves stopping just to get their lungs back.

The wind just won’t stop blowing and hard. But then you stop to wonder how the hell they got all these bricks up here in the first place. How they managed to keep building. How they managed to keep the enemy out long enough to keep this from becoming a pointless exercise. How this could go on for 4000 miles, longer than the U.S. coast to coast? You have to just marvel at it. And then you get back down in one piece.


A smaller group amongst us decided to play "sherpa" and trek up the wall further than most of us. To give those proud (insane) few their due, here is the photo they brought back from on-high.



Back to the bus, with the vendors literally chasing our group to the door. We head back to the hotel along winding roads, the bus having near misses along the way. I struggle to stay awake despite being exhausted. Hopefully, after my first taste of honest-to-goodness roast duck, I’ll be able to pass out.

Our group divides up back at the hotel, as half of us head out for Beijing Duck. On the way, Sean, our tour guide, begins to tell us about how Beijing Duck became such a big deal. And then he proceeds to tell us about the cooking process, which is where the details take a turn. He’s trying to explain why duck chitlins are so popular, but instead tells us about the importance of “duck ass” in the culture. Same idea, unfortunate choice of words.

He takes us to a restaurant in Beijing that has been in operation since 1864. It’s covered in neon on the outside, but the place feels authentic enough.

When they bring out 2 tall stacks of mushu pancakes, we don’t expect to get three healthy plates of duck meat at our table. We get a lesson in wrapping from the waiter (style points for him), and we dig in. It was a good meal. Worth the effort.

On the bus ride back, I am fighting the sandman. I swear tonight will be the night I “break the wave” and get a full night’s rest. At 11:30, it’s lights out. At 1:15, it’s eyes open. Damnit!

Tomorrow: Our first business meetings, and the voyage to Shanghai.