Mickey Mao and the Forbidden City

After 15 hours of sleep on the first night (not hyperbole), we hit the ground running.  In a city where taxi drivers look at you blankly when you say “Forbidden City”, we decided to trudge all the way there on foot.  Walking around it to find one of the entrances is one way to appreciate the magnitude of the place.

Massive.  Ostentatious.  Imposing.  Calling it a city is pretty accurate, because there’s never been a fortress on this scale before.   The architecture is gracefully muscular, all meant to evoke imperial power.  And yet… there are endless little hideaway places to discover.  Places we never even saw.  We did our best to avoid being herded (which I find the Chinese seem to be ok with... they seem accustomed to it), and sought out little secret places…  a courtyard with a single twisting tree… glazed dragons marching down low, sloped terra cotta roofs… a doorway leading into darkness.  In such places it was possible to breathe for a minute before pushing through more crowds to see the thrones of emperors or their concubines’ bedchambers.

After nosing around the back alleys and courtyards of the Forbidden City, we came upon one of the grand plazas and were surprised by a sudden downpour.  The storm thinned out the crowds a bit, and a prism of umbrellas opened across the wet, grey stone, bunching together in little clusters of color.  The rain saturated the colors of tile and stone, transforming temples, pagodas, palaces, and gates into enameled jewel boxes.  In the rain, the Forbidden City is a magnetic place.

Eventually, the sky broke and the crowds pressed back in.  We meandered our way out through the infamous Gate of Heavenly Peace, right under the enlarged nose of Mao Zedong.  And there he was, gazing benevolently over his kingdom, out to the vast stretch of Tianenmen Square.  You have to wonder what old Mao would think about his China now… communist wrappings with a capitalist heart!  And you also have to wonder… what is it exactly that China wants?  Not so long ago, Mao’s giant visage on the Gate of Heavenly Peace was angrily pelted with paint-filled eggs.  Others have tried to burn it.  But not to worry, Mickey Mao!  The government has back-up portraits at the ready in case there should be any more “accidents”.

After our Mao moment, we ambled over to Tianenmen Square (honestly, though, you can’t really call it ambling when you have to pass through a series of metal detectors).  At that hour, there wasn’t much to do at Tianenmen other than gape, gawk, and be overwhelmed at the sheer size of the place (they had to compete with Red Square in Moscow) and the sobering moments of history that have played out there. 

The crowds and the heat were getting to us, so we decided to round out the sight-seeing that day with a trip to the park.  We tromped over to the curious little mountain next to the Forbidden City, called Jingshu (is that correct??).   After winding up a foot-path, we were rewarded with a glorious bird’s-eye view of the Forbidden City.  We spent a good bit of time lounging around in the park; it was a calming relief after the crowds and chaos.  There were families playing games and couples strolling about the grounds.  We were content to just watch, soak it in, and try to catch our brains up to the fact that… we’re in China