Dangerous and embarrassing situations I love meeting new people during my travels. Ive met so many wonderful people, that each time I get to a new place, I look forward to meeting more, especially locals. Its not different in Beijing with its population of 1 billion, 400 million. A staggering amount of people who speak the most spoken language in the world. Mandarin/Chinese. It baffles me how Ive met so many Chinese people during my travels, all of whom spoke some sort of English, yet when I arrive to their country, no one seems to understand even the basics of English. It must be that only those who are privileged, educated and wealthy are the ones who can afford to travel. This statement is truer than Ive ever thought before, no matter what country of the world. So when a young lady approached me near the exit at the metro, speaking flawless English, I was thrilled. She told me shes 26 years old, lives in Hong Kong and is in Beijing for a few days visiting. She had been here once before in 2008 during the Olympic Games, as a hostess for English speaking visitors. Although she had not visited all the venues, she knew all about them. She had a couple of hours this afternoon to go see a few of the tourist attractions of downtown, mainly Tiananmen Square and the National Museum of China across the street. It was about 1pm and the heat and humidity were at their worst. I dont get out of the house until noon so being in the subway for a bit over an hour and then walking for a few more hours is not a big deal. I have been doing it for a week and even if uncomfortable, I always find a way to see what I want and head back home late afternoon, just in time to cook dinner and watch a little television. She said her name was Lilly and she spelled it different, but now I dont remember how, nor do I have her email address, which she insisted on giving me. Its too bad, because I would love to see her again and have a long conversation over some juice and nuts. Just like the one she suggested we have at a tiny restaurant around the corner from the Forbidden City. I had been to that street before. There are thousands of juice, fruit, and knick knacks being sold by the millions. People scream their wares hoping someone will buy them, and curious items are shoved on your face with words I never I understood. I only remember they are mostly red. I was ready to go find the museum and escape the heat for a few hours of solitude with a few art pieces and some history. Ive been to many museums around the world, but I’ve never seen so many people in any of them. It was hard looking at the exhibits with people cramming in front of them as if there had been an accident and it was important to see it firsthand. It’s also hard losing so much of my personal space since I arrived last week, people are constantly stepping on me and throwing my shoes off the heels. Im learning to walk with my purse and camera in front of my body so they can be protected, even though Beijing is known for being a safe city. Yet, walking in and out of the stations with so many people still makes me nervous and I want to get to the last place in line. Only problem is that theres no such thing. One time I waited 10 full minutes for people to stop coming, before I realized it was a constant stream all day long. Maybe it slows down at 11pm when the trains stop running. While walking to the exit of the station Lilly told me she was a student, who just finished her degree in Acupuncture and traditional Chinese Medicine. She and her boyfriend were buying a house together and getting married in a couple of years. She told me all about the courting and engagement rules in China, but how in Hong Kong they are a bit more relaxed, being its sort of an independent part of China. When we got to the street she suggested we cross it and head towards Forbidden City. I looked behind me and saw the sprawling grounds of Tiananmen Square, longing to go there quickly. I had been to the castle and its grounds a few days before, with a guide, I had no desire to revisit. However, being that I’m friendly, I followed her to see where she would take me. I knew she had been there already, so I was sure she didn’t want to buy tickets again. We walked into the narrow street where vendors gathered. After walking a few minutes, I was ready to turn around and leave. I didn’t want to waste my energy. Suddenly she suggested we get a juice to placate the heat. We could wait until later, she said, when the crowds thinned out and it wasn’t so hot. I wanted to disagree with her, but the prospect of a cold juice won me over. We entered what seemed like a clandestine meeting place, with small rooms and tables in tiny rooms with doors that closed. It was air conditioned, so I figured that was the reason for the closed doors, but I felt like I was having a secret meeting with someone rather than light conversation with a new friend over some juice and nuts. I ordered watermelon juice, but cold, please. Lilly told me I would be charged extra for the cold juice as in China drinks are generally taken room temperature. This was contrary to what I had seen on the streets but I didn’t want to argue. We had a great conversation over our drinks. She kept refilling my tea cup, even if I didn’t want any. I was happy with my juice. She was being the polite Chinese girl trained by her parents. Half hour later the bill came and being that she only had tea, I treated her. She looked at the bill, added it up and said it was correct. She thanked me profusely. We walked out again and this time headed for the Museum. She explained how it was free to enter, all I had to do was show my passport and I would get a ticket. Chinese citizens could swipe their ID cards and get one. On the way something bothered me, I felt it in the pit of my stomach, but I couldn’t completely place it. This was no time to analyze feelings so I discarded them. I deviated from the way to the museum to the sidewalk so I could take a couple of pictures of the square. I was looking forward to later being right in the middle of it. She said I should hurry and get to the museum, as they would close at 3pm. When we arrived at the entrance, I saw her getting on the phone and talking. She then turned around and said her friends could meet her and she could not accompany me inside after all. We said goodbye and she promised to keep in touch. She insisted I come visit her in Hong Kong when I visited in November and she would have her mom cook me an authentic dinner that only she could do. This wasn’t an empty promise, I said. I definitely would be there and would get in touch for sure. I walked away with a smile. A few minutes later I was being patted down for security at the Museum entrance. I was overwhelmed by the immensity of it. Everywhere I looked there were tall walls, wide corridors, and exhibitions on the walls. I looked for the exhibition halls, like any other Museum, but realized that they were few and far between, all the works of art were on the walls of expansive hallways where people could gather by the 100’s and view any piece at leisure. My gut was still bothering me with nagging thoughts that I had done something stupid, so I decided to sit quietly in a corner and think about it. Luckily I found such a place, at a step to stairs leading to closed exhibition halls. I closed my eyes and send my mind throughout the entire experience with Lilly to see what was bothering me about it. Then it hit me. I spent two months in Nepal and another month in India. The currency exchange in Nepal is approximately 95 Rupees to a dollar, and half of that for India. I had been traveling extensively in Nepal and got used to do the dollar to rupees in a second. My system was to take 100 rupees and think of it as one dollar, half of that for India. I had spent so much money in Nepal that the exchange rate remained in my head even when I was in India. However, because my Indian experience had been prepaid and I had little chance to spend any actual Indian Rupees, I still had the habit of exchanging Nepalese Rupees to dollars. Whenever I dished out 100 rupees, I thought that was one dollar. In China the exchange rate is 6Y to one dollar, approximately. I figured 100Y to be about $15USD. My mind is still working on the Yen to dollar ratio, I need practice, lots of practice. When I paid the bill for the juice, tea and nuts, I shelled out six bills of 100Y each, she returned 40Y back. I sat and did the math. I had been charged almost $90 for some cold juice, tea and a few nuts. The anger was slow to rise in my head. I had been taken for a ride. Worse, I had been warned by Evelyn about young Chinese girls who invited tourists for tea then robbed them. I just didn’t have the details. How could this happen to me? Why hadn’t I seen the signs? Worse! How could I pay so much for so little? Why didn’t I get a receipt? I was ready to leave the Museum, return to the restaurant and raise hell, I came up with all kinds of ideas of reporting them to the police, the tourist agencies and even stalking the restaurant to see if any other tourist were being taken there by other Chinese girls who spoke flawless English. I did nothing! I told myself that I was thankful I hadn’t paid with my credit card (as had been suggested by Lilly) and I learned a hard lesson. I went through the whole experience once more, this time reliving it as if it was happening in real time. It all made sense to me. She was smart, knew how to cover all the bases and everything she said made sense. Once, when I asked her how she knew so much about Beijing having never been there, she reminded me that she had worked at the Olympics as an information giver, the training she received was all theory, not practical. I wasn’t suspicious at the time, and failed to question her further. I thought what a great experience this was, getting information from someone who knew all the details. I wondered if they had all been lies, including the information about Beijing. I love making new friends, and this experience will not deter me from talking to strangers, having coffee with them or even joining them for dinner, but from now on, I will watch my wallet like a hawk. There are many ways of being robbed, and this loss was minimal compared to the one in Papua New Guinea back in 2012. I was thankful for that. I continued by tour of the Museum, then went outside to Tiananmen Square and joined the thousands of other Chinese tourists posing for pictures and laughing with their friends and family. I wished my friend Galla hadn’t changed her mind about joining me in Beijing.
Posted on: Tue, 08 Jul 2014 06:16:26 +0000
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