When I last saw my little godsister Jia Jia she looked like this:
And now she looks like this:
In other words the most adorable child ever.
I arrived in Beijing on Friday night, and after discussing Google, the American stock market crisis and 成语 (Chinese four character idioms) with Pong, I got to see Cong Cong (who might as well be my little brother) and Jia Jia. We had homemade hotpot for dinner and Pong told me that on Saturday we would go to the mall after Cong Cong's violin lessons.
It was at this mall on Saturday that God gave me my Easter present:
Major League in Beijing.
Cong Cong and I posed as baseball players: (Braves and Red Sox, respectively).
And we ate lunch at a sports bar called Allstar (they had ESPN, I almost died) where I inhaled the most legit Mexican food in all of China, so it was basically my perfect day.
On Sunday, Pong told me we might go to see the Summer Palace, or we might go to 香山 (Fragrant Mountain). As it turned out, everyone in Beijing and their mother was at the Summer Palace, so we went to 爬香山 (climb Fragrant Mountain). As we're walking up to the mountain, I'm thinking this mountain won't be any big deal, since I 爬ed 老山 in Qingdao last summer, and there's no way 香山 is tougher than 老山. We arrive at the beginning of the "trail" (in China, you don't really climb a mountain, you climb stairs) and to my surprise, Pong and Jia Jia wave good-bye to us. I don't know what I was thinking, because of course an 18-month old can't climb a mountain, so it was just me and the boys.
Let me give y'all some explanation of the Chinese way of mountain climbing. As I said, it's less climbing than it is doing a Stairmaster, and there's no concept of keeping to your right. People going down the mountain drift over to where people trying to climb up the mountain are trying to walk, everyone's chatting on cell phones, and there's very little room to move.
Anyway, I was pretty badly dressed (in my opinion) for this climb because the only remotely athletic shoes I brought to Beijing were my Converse. But apparently I was even more badly dressed than I first realized. It seems that mountain climbing attire in China consists of heeled boots, tights and a dress:
And of course, there was this poor child, who had decided that he was really craving some roasted squid:
As I'm climbing this mountain (with old ladies speeding past me), several thoughts went through my head, most of them not very nice. For example: "Why can't Chinese just take the American view of mountain climbing? Don't do it unless you're Rachel Johnson." And "If you look at me again, I'll push you off this thing." And "I hate this. Why am I doing this? I hate this."
And of course, like most mountains, the view makes up for the tortuous climb (there's a life metaphor in there somewhere).
Once we manage to climb back down the mountain, my legs screaming at me and my feet bemoaning my lack of appropriate footwear, Pong and Jia Jia meet us at the nearby park, where Pong tells me, "It's a very difficult climb, one of the most difficult. I didn't think you'd make it. . . I thought you would come back halfway." 香山 may have owned my entire lower body but I made it (later I found out that compared to 香山， 老山 is a piddly baby mountain. If I had known that beforehand...).
Today, before my flight left at 2, Pong, Qing, Jia Jia, Cong Cong and I went to this shopping street that is right behind Tiananmen Square and is built in the Ming and Qing style.
Anyway, now it's back to the grind. . . but my next break is so soon--the end of April! And my parents are meeting me in 西安 (Xi'an)! Yay!
Please bring the a Chinese baby back. We can dress it up in a Panda suit for bid day.
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