A little taste of America came last Sunday in Hairspray. Three of my friends and I trekked out to the nearby theater to watch the one time Broadway spectacle, and we must have been the only Americans in the house. No, the show was not in Chinese, it was in fact entirely in English, but despite the subtitles provided to them, I don't think the Chinese audience understood the musical's message. In what is supposed to advocate equality in all its forms, the homogeneous crowd stared on lost in translation. Nevertheless, we proceeded to sing along to the soundtrack, loudly and proudly, providing excellent fodder to further the loud, crass American stereotype.
The most notable occurrences this week, however, were Olympics related. If any doubt lingers as to whether or not Beijing will be able to pull it all off, the verdict is about to be revealed. Volunteers are walking around everywhere, clad in their blue jerseys, khaki pants, and addidas footwear, and the athletes have already arrived. What I've learned from all of my eaves dropping and blatant staring is that it's all about the yellow strap. The yellow lanyard, which is affixed to each Olympics identification badge, is the key to eternal happiness - and also a bullseye that separates the Olympians from all of us normal folk. Almost every weekend, we've made our way over to some massive shopping complex in search of this fake purse or that touristy Chinese trinket. But this weekend, I could barely focus on my shopping, utterly distracted as massive athlete upon massive athlete passed through the narrow aisles, hopelessly trying to bargain with the Chinese shopkeepers. Saturday brought us many Cuban track and field athletes (all of whom, true to form, unabashedly checked out my friend as they walked by), Irish swimmers, US gold medalist fencers, and Ecuadorian who-knows-whats, while Sunday brought us more Cubans, US boxers, Italians, and Croatians. I shamelessly acted like an excited twelve year old girl as each team passed by, clad in either tight fitting spandex or loose national team sweats. One of my friends even hid behind a purse stand as a few of the US boxers passed by because "they were too good looking" for her to stay composed in their presence.
As much as we've enjoyed watching the athletes frequent the same shops we've meandered through for the past seven weeks, I think the shopkeepers themselves are the happiest. This summer, I've learned the ropes as to how to bargain in China - what prices I should be getting, and which prices are absolutely ludicrous. These athletes, however, haven't quite caught on yet. For example, one of my friends bought seven silk scarves from a shop for about 120 RMB, which is about 17 RMB per scarf. The man before her, who left with a smug smile across his face as if to say: I'm a fine bargainer, indeed!, paid 500 RMB for eight scarves, or 62.5 RMB per scarf. Even worse, the shopkeeper there told my friend a woman earlier that day had paid her $100, or about 800 RMB, for a single scarf. Now, that's a profit margin you don't see everyday.
Though the market prompted all giddiness and excitement from my end, one little boy did not seem as enthused by all the Olympic glitz and glamor. See if you can find him...
To complete what I promise is the last piece of Olympics-related news for this post, I have been lucky enough to get my hands on an Olympics ticket for this upcoming weekend. Thanks to a random connection (a family friend's cousin who also happens to be in Beijing this summer), I will be attending two women's volleyball events before heading back to the States on Sunday. I think even "elated" is too weak of an adjective to describe my excitement. Shocked and amazed at the opportunity, I can't wait!
I managed to sneak in a surprising amount of touring this week as well. With not much time left, I figured I had to pay my dues and make the rounds to all of the important parks and streets, including the Temple of Heaven, Wangfujin, and Beihai Park. Take a look:
To the left is the famous Tiantan, or Temple of Heaven, another one of Beijing's ancient relics.
Wangfujin is famous for it's 小吃街, or snack street. It's packed with stands selling traditional Beijing style snacks from skewers of roast meet or squid to skewers of sugar glazed fruits. It's the only street in Beijing on which cars are not permitted to drive, and is also the official home of the Olympics staff and merchandise. The buildings here, coupled with many a bright light and flustered pedestrian, are the only ones in Beijing that are slightly reminiscent of those you might find in New York City's Time Square.
Our indulgent sugar-covered-grape skewered snacks
Below is Beihai Park. It's famous for the White Pagoda, which you can see in the background of this photo.
Another interesting adventure came as I searched out new places to buy my beloved pirated DVDs. The Chinese government has begun to crack down on pirated DVD shops, closing them down in preparation for the Olympics. My beloved Yashow shop out of business, I've been hunting around Beijing looking for places that sell what has now become rare commodities. Luckily, I found one - but in the oddest, and perhaps sketchiest of places: an underground abandoned passageway next to the Silk Market that sells tourist trinkets for 10 RMB each. Anyway, at the far end of this "market" is a small DVD mart. When you walk inside, the prospects are slim as only sparse bookshelves half-filled with Chinese soap operas fill the shop; however, upon asking the shopkeeper for American films, she looks at you, nods, scans for patrol guards, and suddenly moves the bookcase behind the counter where she is sitting. The bookcase is actually a door, behind which is another door, behind which is a windowless room filled with American DVDs and TV shows. It's like a scene from a mystery movie, with secret corridors and trap doors, but only this time the treasure is American DVDs. Now the only thing I have to worry about is getting them through customs...I have finally crossed the one week marker signaling my last seven days in this city. It's unreal to imagine that I have been a Beijinger for seven weeks, having gone from complete culture shock to cultural assimilation. I won't bore you with nostalgic reminiscences yet, but it's going to be strange having to look at all of those Caucasian faces again.
That's about it from this end of the world.
Until later,
Tess
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