I turned the corner
and found myself standing in a very modern shopping district,
obviously Beijing’s display of its’ emerging
economy. The street was lined with extravagant designer shops,
McDonald’s, Starbucks’ and all the signs of globalization.
I was amazed by the stark contrast between this street and
the nearby Hutongs, which seemed to have remained the unchanged
for centuries.
As I came to the
end of the street two friendly young women approached me.
The introduced themselves as university students. Their English
was quite good and they began asking questions about life
in Canada and my impressions of China. Shortly into our conversation,
they asked me if I was interested in traditional Chinese
art and that they would be happy to take me to an art exhibition.
In my shameful naiveté, I agreed.
They lead me off
the main street and down a winding alleyway. A few flights
of stairs later I found myself in a long corridor lined with
doors. They opened one of the doors and inside was a room
no bigger than a closet; its’ walls lined with calligraphy
and paintings. It finally clicked that I was in a questionable
situation. I sat down with a polite elderly man who said
that he was an art professor. We talked briefly as he showed
me various paintings and explained their symbolism to me.
Then he came to the point, “Would you care to purchase
some of the artwork? It will help fund my students’ studies.”
I am not sure what
happened. I suppose I was confused and my defenses were down,
but I found myself stumbling back onto the frigid street,
carrying three pieces of art and forty dollars lighter. Once
I realized that I had been taken for a ride, I kicked myself.
Vowing that it would not happen to me again this trip, I
decided to find a warm restaurant and a bottle of beer.
A drink and a bowl
of noodles later, I was back on the street to meander around
Tiananmen Square. As I marveled at Mao’s Mausoleum,
Tiananmen Gate and the Great Hall of the People, I felt overwhelmed.
I remember as a young teenager, being glued to the television
as the tanks rolled into the square to squash the student
protests. As I stood there attempting to absorb the surreal
moment, I was approached by at least six more people inviting
me to art exhibitions. I was on to their scheme now so I
would politely reply, “No thank you. I’d just
like to enjoy the sights alone.”
Several days later,
my friends arrived in Beijing and I filled them in on the
scam. Even with my warnings, a couple of my friends fell
for it as well. We later discovered that we could buy the
same type of art work at outdoor markets for a fraction of
the price charged by the “art exhibitions.”
Now as I look back
upon my art exhibition fiasco, I laugh at how minor an incident
it really was. If anything, it added to my China experience.
The wonderful food, warm people, arguments with bus drivers
and watching the police shake down one of my cab drivers
all made Beijing a wonderful city to visit. A mixture of
modern and old, a visit to China’s capital city will
leave you with a wealth of memories and stories.
Read
more from Kevin O'Shea: Street
Meat and Monks
Pak Beng, Mekong River & Luang
Prabang, Laos |
