Young, Blond and On Their Own in China

Touring China, for most people, means a guided group, expensive hotels catering to foreigners, and little opportunity for spontaneous contact with everyday Chinese.

But last summer after graduating from high school, I was fortunate to experience China a different way: with my backpack, my classmate James and his sister Susan, a Harvard student who is fluent in Chinese and studying at Beijing University.

Until recently, traveling in China on your own was restricted. Now it is quite feasible if you are willing to put up with the many hassles involved in touring alone, such as finding someone who speaks enough English to help arrange train tickets, and making your way to small, cheap hotels. Susan resolved these problems for us.

We flew to Hong Kong in mid-June and took the train to the capital city of Beijing, a three-day trip that was a good introduction to China. We bought train tickets not through the expensive tourist bureau but by fighting like other passengers through long lines.

There are no reservations, and often the number of tickets sold doesn’t coincide with the number of seats available, so we tried to buy our tickets on the day of our trip as soon as the station opened.

Riding in ‘Hard Seats’

The luxurious and exorbitant “soft-sleeper” section of the train, filled with foreigners and high-ranking officials, or the “hard-sleeper” section of three-tiered open bunks would have been more comfortable, but it was in the “hard-seat” sections where we really met ordinary Chinese.

Most of them had never talked to a foreigner and were bursting with curiosity about us and our country. One middle-aged woman brought her two children to where we were sitting, stared at us openly and curiously for a long time, then led them quietly back to their seats.

Our fellow passengers showed a strong liking of America and admiration for Western things, including our mammoth backpacks, but they were also eager to boast about the new spirit in China, touting the many recent dramatic changes.

A young teacher who spoke excellent English asked us what is left for us of the younger generation to strive for if America is already so great and advanced. The Chinese, like her, she said proudly, are creating a whole new modern country under the government of Deng Xiaoping.

The Forbidden City

During our two weeks in the foreigners’ wing of Beijing University we borrowed bicycles or took crowded buses to the impressive standard sights--the Forbidden City, a massive walled-in area where emperors and their courts lived in splendor; the peaceful Summer Palace, where the emperors would stay during the hot and humid summer, and Mao’s mausoleum, where the former leader’s waxy body lies on display as hushed multitudes shuffle past.

When we were there the line only went to his left; allegedly his right ear falls off occasionally.

Many beautiful sites and temples of China were partially ruined during Mao’s Cultural Revolution in the late 1960s and early 1970s but are rapidly being rebuilt.

A drawback to traveling without an official English-speaking guide is that at most museums and monuments the only explanatory signs are in Chinese. We found the Lonely Planet guidebook, “China: A Travel Survival Kit,” our one indispensable book. Not only does it offer useful travel tips but it gives excellent descriptions of areas of interest.

We took our meals at small restaurants instead of at the big tourist hotels. We could enjoy the typical rice, beef, stir-fried vegetables, soup and beer for less than $1 each. When we could not understand the menu we simply pointed to other people’s dishes, a necessity which the other diners accepted with amused tolerance.

We would also usually order a large bottle of warm beer. It is rare to find cold drinks except in tourist hotels; the most common drink is hot water, and sometimes tea. Everywhere there are thermoses of hot water boiled to kill bacteria.

Through friends and relatives of James’ and Susan’s grandfather and Chinese grandmother, we were able to meet such people as Gen. Lu Zheng Cao, a gruff, friendly man who fought against the Japanese in the 1940s. During the Cultural Revolution he served as Minister of Railroads until forced to resign for not giving enough trains to the Red Guards, the youths who carried out so much destruction in the name of Mao and communism.

Now one of China’s elite, Gen. Lu lives in a large house (a rarity) and oversees the fledgling Chinese Tennis Federation. At his urging we gave his 12- and 14-year-old female tennis charges “a little practice.” Despite having played on our high school tennis team, they easily beat us. We learned that children who look promising are coached several times a week at state-run clinics and are guided toward a life of competition.

One of our most delightful days was spent at the newly opened section of the Great Wall at Jinshanling, two hours outside Beijing. It was almost empty of tourists because it has no public transportation yet. One gets there by hitchhiking or by private car. The climb is up 1,200 steps but the view is spectacular, significantly more impressive than at the usual tourist section at Badaling.

The massive stone-and-earth wall follows the mountain ridges into the clouds, wandering over valleys as far as the eye can see. It was built in 22 BC but was never very effective in defending against invasions. Warriors such as Genghis Kahn simply bribed generals. It was, however, an effective transportation and communication line through the steep mountains.

Workers who were restoring the wall using donkeys and primitive tools as their ancestors had, cheerfully waved us on, and we trekked through thick brambles and bushes on the battered earthen wall. Despite the common perception, almost all the 1,500 miles of the Great Wall have been worn away by centuries of neglect, and all that remains are crumbling and barely noticeable remnants of a quiet monument to an ancient civilization.

In the provincial capital of Taiyuan we had the luck to stay with my friends’ relatives. In contrast to the luxurious life of Gen. Lu, this family lives in a complex with their co-workers in a work unit called a Danwei, the lowest unit of the state, which regulates such aspects of peoples’ lives as salaries, vacations and living quarters.

The parents, who are machine tool operators, live with their two daughters in a spare two-room apartment with concrete floors, a gas stove and a crude common bathroom down the hall. (Toilet paper is rare in China; travelers would be wise to bring some along.)

The family is luckier than most; they own a small TV set and a small washing machine, and hope someday to buy a refrigerator.

During our stay, the father took off work for a few days to show us the city. Typical of Chinese hospitality, he insisted on paying for almost everything, which he could not really afford, despite our protestations.

The Chongsan temple at Taiyuan is normally open only to official tour groups, but after some pleading we were invited in and shown the unusually beautiful temple and its 800-year-old Buddhist scriptures.

Prayer Rite Observed

The head monk invited us to watch the prayer ceremony, and we were mesmerized by the fragrance of incense, the rhythmic banging of wooden blocks and the singsong chanting of the monks.

At one of the Taiyuan markets we were amused at the fashionable T-shirts with American slogans: “Sports Is Very Happy,” “Enjoy the Fantastic Life, Sense-Up the Natural Life,” and better yet, “Happy Our Country Being Famous for Its Rich and Strong.”

Surely one of the most glorious sights in China is the sacred Buddhist mountain Tai Shan in Shandong Province. We climbed for five exhausting hours up the same thousands of steps over which emperors, centuries before, had ridden donkeys and horses literally to death.

The stone steps were carried up the mountain by countless laborers whose descendants still bear heavy loads up and down the mountain, despite the cable car that accommodates wealthier Chinese and the occasional tourist.

We spent the cold night in one of the many tiny inns at the summit, wearing warm rented army coats. Mao once viewed the glorious sunrise from the summit of Tai Shan and proclaimed, “The East is red.”

Although China’s ancient sites are fascinating, the most interesting time for us was our cultural exchange in Qingdao with 15 marine biology graduate students who had offered to pay for our cheap hotel room in exchange for a chance to practice their English.

I was curious, for instance, about the one-child rule, and they agreed like many others we had met that it is unfortunate but necessary. They hoped that by the turn of the century, families could have two children, echoing a common complaint that all the single children are growing up spoiled.

When we asked if they thought China is heading away from the goals of the revolution, one responded that there are many paths to happiness and success, and the country is merely trying a different approach.

Everywhere we went we three blond young Americans attracted great attention, especially in small towns off the tourist track. One cab driver ran his fingers through the hair on my arms, laughing with good-natured amazement because Chinese generally don’t have any such hair.

When Susan argued with a rickshaw driver, the crowd of onlookers in the street grew so large that it blocked traffic. And when we ate lunch in a small noodle restaurant near Taiyuan, 20 people gathered in the open door to gawk at the strange diners, scurrying away only when we pulled out a camera to take their picture.

Excited Children

As we walked through back streets little children would run to their parents, shouting excitedly, “ Wai Guo Ren! Wai Guo Ren! “ (Foreigners! Foreigners!). James, at 6 feet, 3 inches, was a constant source of amusement on buses, with his head poking out through the sun roof.

From our small sampling we were impressed with how pleased the young people were with the changes taking place. Many hoped for less government control, from job assignments to travel restrictions, but one student cautioned against changing too quickly.

“You see,” he told me, “throughout its history China has been ruled oppressively. That’s all there has been. Now that there is some freedom, we must go slowly. It is like a baby, always attached by a string to its mother. You can’t let go at once.”

I was reminded of the underlying tension, however, by a young army guard at the customs gate. As I was leaving, he confided in halting English, “You are lucky to be American. You can go anywhere.”