Despite my mother’s worrying, we decided not to book a tour to see the sights in Beijing. Even though we had traveled through South America, and made our way overland from Tanzania to South Africa, through big sprawling cities and tiny roadside villages, my mother was worried about my being in Beijing. She’s read stories in the newspaper, she says. But Mom, I told her, I’ve been traveling independently for a while now, through places in Africa which were much less developped. Never mind that she says, with a tone of parental omniscience – this is China.

I needn’t have worried…like any city with major tourism sites, it was easy to hail taxis, use the Beijing Metro, and figure out the ticket offices. Viva good hotel receptionists and Lonely Planet guides!

The major obstacle was my being obviously Chinese to the locals, yet not being able to speak Mandarin - mass confusion ensues, but more on that in another blog post.

Our first day in Beijing, we made our way to the Forbidden City, the seat of imperial China for the last 500 years. The sky was deep blue, the sun was shining, and it was a beautiful autumn day. I had been there before, yet it was still an impressive sight. This time, however, I did not have the 25 companions of a tour group, did not have to find a tour leader touting a flag and bullhorn, did not have to wear a stupid cap, and did not have to be hustled out of the site to get on the tour bus so we could have lots of time at the state run tourist souvenir shop. Hooray!

We picked up audio tours for an extra $5, and got a so-so treatment of Chinese history from a soothing female voice with a slightly British accent. The incredibly beautiful architecture and snippets of history sparked my imagination what it must have been like to live there in the western palaces, and to be received at court.

Ten years ago, I was surprised at the sad state of disrepair the buildings were in. No efforts had been made at conservation, as tourists streamed in and out of rooms, smoking, snapping photos with flash, and brushing up against 300 year old delicate wood panels.

This time, we could no longer go into the buildings, just allowed to look in through a doorway or a plexiglass window. Smoking is not permitted, and the main largest hall (Temple of Harmony?) was being entirely renovated. An inconvinience, but well worth it, as we saw the sections which had been restored, breathtaking in revealing the intricate detail and the vibrant colors of the red laquer and gold gilt.

The Forbidden City is an enormous complex, yet almost completely lacking in informational plaques. The ones that are present only state the name of the building, but little else. So, I found myself wondering at the differences between the “Hall of Preserving Harmony” and the “Hall of Supreme Harmony”.

So, of course, in swoops privately sponsored plaques, from… American Express! They provide a little bit of history for the major buildings, in both Chinese and English, and end the description with the little blue Amex logo. Sigh…I can understand why putting plaques on a major cultural site is not top priority for the government, and at least someone is doing it. But it is a little jolting, as there is no other advertising inside the walls.

I remarked to Jonathan how weird it would have been to be someone who lived in Beijing while the Forbidden City was, well, forbidden. It is so giant, and so off limits to normal citizens. Jonathan then pointed out that we have lots of places that are “forbidden” to us, such as military bases and government buildings, etc. Oh, yeah…