This morning we visited the second of Beijing’s prime attractions, the Temple of Heaven. It’s a fabulously beautiful building, tho’ I shan’t bother to describe it more fully, since I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of it already (tho’ I’ll admit I’d never heard of the place before coming to Beijing.) We happened to run into my pig-tailed friend from the train again, along with her fellow team-members, taking in the sights (+ still all dressed in their red track-suits!)
That occupied the morning – the afternoon was spent in an enterprise that I’m sure Mr Fodor would not have approved of. We had very nearly run out of money once again. People’s money, at any rate, so I had to venture once more into the black market. We had a vague idea as to its current location, but from the recent info we’d received, it didn’t sound as if it was all that easy to make contact. Val volunteered to have first crack at it, while I went down to the Friendship Store to buy some bread for tomorrow – we arranged to meet back in the bar of the Beijing Hotel. It took me longer to complete my chores than I’d anticipated, so I was a little worried that I might be keeping her waiting, but when I returned, + there was no sign of her, I was assailed by a different set of fears, that she might be even now undergoing intensive interrogation in the offices of the Public Security Office.
She turned up after about half an hour, after a tiring + unsuccessful plod up + down the said street, loitering at corners, yet receiving only the attentions of would-be guides + helpers. After another half an hour, I too ventured forth to try my luck, tho’ I didn’t have very much time, as we’d arranged to meet D + L at 4 to go for a Peking Duck dinner. I too walked quite a way down the street, exploring various side alleys as I went – I even wandered into the grounds of what had once been a Catholic Church, but the money-changers were not to be found in the temple, having presumably been flung out once again… along with the priests this time. It didn’t look at all likely, however, so I returned to give a closer scrutiny to a corner further back. Sure enough, there were a group of as spivvish-looking a group of lads as one could wish for – I don’t know how I missed them before – perched like roosters on the rail around the kerb. Luckily there was a yogurt stand there, so I bought a yogurt to provide me with a plausible alibi for just standing + waiting, + it enabled me to take a look at my prospective business partners. A series of unmistakable nods, winks + raised eyebrows indicated that these were the boys alright, + as soon as I’d finished my yogurt I followed one of them down the street, keeping a discreet distance, naturally.
It was Canton all over again, but I had some idea what was going on this time, + wasn’t fazed at all when I followed him into a photographic store, + then out again – he was just making sure we weren’t being followed. Nor was I at all surprised when I was led down an alleyway + into a public toilet – quite a popular little office for these boys, it would seem. I knew what rate I wanted from him. I had 300 FECs, for which I wanted 400 RMBs, + this being well below the going rate, I didn’t anticipate any objections. Nor indeed, in this first negotiation, conducted in the urinal section, did I encounter any. He was a mite puzzled at first, but seemed happy enough once he’d grasped what I wanted. I should add that our negotiations were entirely non-verbal, excellent in that they enhanced security, necessary because he spoke not a word of English. I wrote down my figure on my China Daily, he nodded.
The next move, however, was a puzzler, for he made some vague mimes, + left. Presumably, I was to wait where I was, but the surroundings were none too salubrious, from almost every respect, + besides I was attracting curious looks from the legitimate users of the convenience, so I took myself off for a short walk. I had almost begun to despair of my first contact, had already forgotten what he looked like, + had begun to stroll back to the main road when he rounded the corner, + came walking towards me. I judged it best to carry on the way I was going, until he passed me. Then, making as if I’d forgotten something – a display of acting that would not have fooled anybody, had anybody cared to look – I turned + walked back into the toilet.
We had evidently reached a secondary stage of the negotiations, for this time we went into the inner sanctum. We weren’t alone, but a low wall divided us from others whose transactions were nutritional. It was with a sigh that I recognised I would have to drop my trousers + squat in order to make my presence seem more reasonable. True prostitution, I thought – dropping my trousers for money. But at least this was it, the climax of the transaction. Except that it wasn’t. There were more frantic mimes, more attempts by me to hand over money, much incomprehension. In the end, I could only understand I was supposed to wait, God knows why, perhaps because he didn’t have enough cash. Tho’ why that couldn’t have been sorted out before, I had no idea. But then high drama dissolved into low farce when he stood up, + scattered cigarettes, loose change + bits of paper – happily, nothing of immense worth – into the stinking hell-hole below. He tut-tutted for a while, then left – clearly, I was dealing with no experienced professional here.
After he’d gone, I squatted for a time where I was, but soon enough I could stand the stench no longer, + burst out into the open air. This time I walked down to the junction with the main rd – I knew that was the way he had gone, so reckoned I could wait there for his return – at least the air would be wholesome. It was now 4 o’clock, the hour of my appointment with D + L, so I was both relieved + amused to see David walking down the street towards me, in company with Peter, another English traveller. When they recognised me, broad grins, + rapid confirmation that they too were on the same mission.
At that point, my man returned, + off I trotted in swift pursuit: the inner sanctum once again. This time the place was ours alone, + at last the switch was made, my China Daily for his Chinese newspaper. I gave what I had received the most cursory of checks, then, taking him on trust, nodded + marched out. Mission accomplished!
David + Peter were still at the corner, so I took them in hand, + guided them to where the boys hung out. Like Columbus’s famous egg, once one knew what to do, it was a piece of cake. They had already made contact when I walked back to the Beijing Hotel to unloose my tale of woe to Val + Laraine, but it was a real blow when they both turned up 15 mins later, all business transacted. Their contacts had been bolder, or more experienced, or more contemptuous of authority, or something, + their business was conducted there + then, at the corner, perched on the rail. Pissed me off something rotten.
We still intended to go to the Peking Duck restaurant, until we discovered it had begun to rain, + as we were already rather late, we abandoned that notion + ate instead in the hotel dining room. Afterwards, however, we stuck to our original plan of going to see the acrobatic show, our enjoyment of which was heightened massively by the BH that David had brought along, + he, Val + I consumed as we walked thro’ the streets of Beijing from the bus-stop to the theatre. It was only when we were ensconced in our seats that I realised quite how blasted I was. As with booze, the dope only served to bring out my extrovert qualities, making me more publicly vociferous in my comments. Like my Dad, I suppose. It was a good show, with a lot of acts, all different, tho’ all acrobatic in one way or another: balancing, juggling, contortionism, + plain somersaults. It was all fairly shoddy + amateurish, yet, for the most part immensely skilful + certainly entertaining. It went on a little long, perhaps, + there were a few mistakes, but really they only served to emphasise the charm.
Most of the day engaged in financial shenanigans, but also time for theatre and drugs in combination, some bog standard sightseeing at the Temple of Heaven, and social interaction.
