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I always wanted to see the Forbidden City in Beijing, it had been one of the first places on my bucket list. The Forbidden city has been the home of many Chinese emperors. The name was fascinating... there was something very attractive about the word ‘Forbidden’.
The sight of the buildings blew me away. They were amazing monuments of past regality and extravagance.
The Forbidden City had an Outer Court and an Inner Court. The Inner Court was the residential area of the palace. The Outer Court was where important public ceremonies were held, the buildings here were solemn and grand. They arranged the ceremonial spaces to show great imperial power. It was all about royalty, not so much about the ordinary people. The tour guide said the city got its name because most people weren’t allowed here, even the imperial family had limited access inside, only the emperor could enter any section at his pleasure.
History echoed with every footstep, I felt like a trespasser who was carelessly breaking the sacred laws of the past. The dragon carvings on the wall were watching carefully. Their eyes accused me of being where I shouldn’t be.
There was a lot of history here, the forbidden city had been the center of Chinese power for five hundred years. Now, it was the Palace Museum of dynastic art and history, with collections in the museum that spanned thousands of years. There were so many beautiful artifacts, fragile and ancient, made of porcelain and jade. I could spend years looking and still see just a fraction of the collection.
I learned a few things about the impressive buildings. The architects made the buildings of wood, the golden bricks made of rare Phoebe Zhen nan trees. The colors were symbolic. Red meant auspicious events, happiness and celebration, they were in the walls, pillars and windows. Yellow was an imperial color, the yellow-tiled roofs beamed like bright sunshine to the contrast of the deep reds.
Feng Shui was the other important element in the buildings. It was to bring balance and positive energy. Cassie was obsessed with minimalism in her new apartment. Perhaps she would like some Feng Shui? I learned that the Forbidden City followed a north-south line, the most important buildings faced south to honor the Sun. The emperor’s symbol was the sun, considered the most powerful symbol, conveying both power and reverence. The guide said that all the buildings of Beijing followed the same orientation.
To begin with the Sun: the symbol of a new beginning, a symbol of hope and light.
I loved how descriptive the names of the rooms and buildings were. I wanted to name my rooms just like them. I would never be short of names because the forbidden city has close to ten thousand rooms.
My office would be my Hall of Mental Cultivation.
My apartment will be the Palace of Compassion and Tranquility.
Cassie’s library will become the Hall of Literary Profundity.
The guide said they had restored some outer buildings for tourists. I also saw buildings that were incomplete, that were kept in their original unfinished state. I found it ironic that the Palace of Prolonging Happiness was unfinished. I guess it was impossible even for the palace to prolong happiness. I have a feeling dad would have made the same joke, if he was here on this trip.
I learned that even the roof’s style and the number of figurines on them were important. Vanity was in the architectural details, the height and width of the buildings mattered. Animal statues, such as dragons, phoenixes, and lions, along roof ridges and in the important halls were to bring prosperity and good fortune. Humans have changed little, even hundreds of years later. We have the same desire towards bigger and better, the same want for good luck and fortune.
I went to Jingshan Park, which was a few minutes’ walk away from the Forbidden City. Standing on the hilltop, I could see the Forbidden city in its entirety. I got a bird’s-eye view of the palace, the scale of the buildings and the integrated Feng Shui design, the panoramic view being my last sight of the imperial Forbidden city.
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I had to see the Great Wall of China, which was another marvel of man-made engineering. The Great Wall was the longest wall in the world, an awe-inspiring ancient architecture. Dad would probably joke that, ‘they don’t make them like they used to anymore’.
The Great Wall was winding like a great dragon over rugged country and steep mountains, surrounded by beautiful views of scenic China. I planned to spend a few days hiking the Great Wall around Beijing.
The tour guide said the Great Wall was not just one wall, but many walls, built to protect the historical northern borders of China. It made me think about the walls people build around their hearts, the walls they built for protection and self-preservation. First, the wall to reach a certain level of trust. Next, it was intimacy. Then another one for commitment. The layers of walls it took to reach the vulnerable, inner self.
It was possible to break these self-imposed barriers. It just took the right person to do it.
At least, that is what both my grandma and Cassie told me.
I am sure the Great wall was not built in the metaphorical sense, but as a real physical barrier to keep from being invaded.
I saw that parts of the Great Wall were built along steep mountain ridges. The Great Wall had wonderful sections with names such as ‘Heavenly Ladder’ and ‘Sky Bridge’. The names should have warned me. I had mild vertigo after I climbed the more vertical sections of the wall.
I spend a few days walking and hiking on the wall, sometimes having to climb it by hand, always grateful for wearing my comfortable shoes. I didn’t have to do it this way, I easily could have used the cable cars or even the chairlift in the more difficult sections. Cassie would have relied on those as she found steps to be, in her words, ‘unnatural’. I discovered another fun way down, a roller coaster cart that went down at Mutianyu. It was a fun ride, rolling down the valley in one of the carts, even if the speed was much slower than an actual roller coaster.
I took the night walking tour, as the tour guide said I must see the Simatai wall at night. I sat between the fifth and sixth watchtower and looked over to the sight of the Simatai village. I could see sections of the wall lit up all along the ridge of the mountains, and I could see the silhouettes of the mountains.
I wondered about the watch sentries all those years ago. I wondered how they would have felt. I could hear crickets chirping and the winds howling in the distance. I felt like a sentry, keeping my guard on the wall, into the quiet of the night.
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I learned how important design was in the buildings of the Forbidden palace. Symbolism was prominent in the layout of the Temple of Heaven, it was where the emperors had annual ceremonies of prayer to Heaven for a good harvest. Just like in the Forbidden city, the main buildings here were also facing a south-north direction.
The guide said the emperor came twice a year to the Temple of Heaven from the Forbidden city. Ordinary subjects could not see the procession or the ceremony. The ceremony was held at the winter solstice and performed by the Emperor. He would wear special robes and not eat meat, he had certain rules to follow. The ceremony had to be perfect, as even the smallest mistake was a bad omen for the entire nation for the coming year. Talk about pressure... and I thought auditions were difficult.
In the temple, a square represented Earth and Heaven by a circle. I looked for the squares and circles in the temple. Both the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests and the Mound Altar were round, but they stood in a square yard. Heaven and Earth. All the buildings had special dark blue roof tiles to represent Heaven. The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests was made of wood, built completely without nails.
Numerology was also important in the Temple of Heaven’s design. I wasn’t fond of math in high school, but I found the obsession with numbers fascinating.
They considered number nine the most powerful; it represented the Emperor; it represented eternity. I counted the circular mound altar, the slabs on the altar were in multiples of nine. The center of the altar was the Heart of Heaven, it was where the Emperor prayed for good weather.
The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvests also represented distinct elements. The inner pillars were the four seasons, the middle were the twelve months, the outer pillars were the twelve traditional Chinese hours.
The four main dragon pillars each represented a season. The structure on top of these dragons was like an ancient Chinese royal palace.
The Seven-Star Stone Group were the seven peaks of Taishan Mountain.
I had a great tour guide. She was passionate about the history and symbolism of the Temple. I wanted to call Cassie and tell her everything I had learned from my tour. I was even ok with Cassie calling me a walking encyclopedia of the Temple of Heaven.
The temple area was also a public park, it was full of people even in the morning. I was glad I came early as it was the best time for people watching. There were local people doing morning exercises, I joined a group that was doing Tai chi. I practiced the slow, flowing movements, calming my mind and body.
There was a kid that was practicing karate, I was careful not to get in the way of his roundhouse kicks. There was a group learning sword fighting. There was a girl who was practicing a traditional dance. The imperial buildings were beautiful, but I felt the people were the true heart of China.
“Have you seen the imperial palace, miss?” A cycle rickshaw driver asked me outside of the temple of Heaven.
“Yes, thank you. I have.”
“What are you planning to see next, miss? Perhaps, I could take you there?”
“I haven’t decided yet. I still have some time.”
“Would you like to see a unique part of China’s heritage and history, other than the imperial one?”
I wondered what part of China he wanted to show me.
“Is it far from here?”
“Not too far. There is even a famous restaurant there that has the best Beijing duck. Simply delicious!”
“Ok, you have me intrigued. Take me to this place.”
The streets got narrower as we got closer to the destination. It was a different world from the vastness and opulence of imperial palaces. The children playing on the streets knew each other. Neighbors were standing on the door chatting about their day, a familiarity and closeness among them. I hardly knew my own neighbors, so even this simple sight was captivating.
As we went further along the narrow alleys, I looked inside the doors that were open. A courtyard joined the houses in the middle and a wall surrounded them. I learned they were called Siheyuan.
“Where are we? What is this place?"
“You are in Hutong country. If the imperial palaces showed the history of our emperors and royal family, then Hutong are the story of the common people.”
“The common people?”
“Here, you get to see everyday people, get to experience the daily life of people in Beijing. Each family’s dwelling is a clan hallmark, it is like a shrine of their clan, handed down for generations.”
“These houses have been here that long?”
“Yes. These houses have been here for hundreds of years, the families you see have been living since they were built. Their ancestors lived within the same walls. We call each of the narrow alleys a Hutong, but they each have a different name.”
“What is this one called?”
“Tobacco Pouch Street. You will see why.”
The rickshaw driver knew his way around all the Hutong streets. It was a good thing too, as alleys crisscrossed with these narrow streets in confusing ways. I saw people using these alleys to meet and drink tea, to eat, to gossip, to play some games. It looked like a great way to socialize.
There was a lot of life between the tall grey walls. There were artists and artisans selling jade pieces, calligraphy and paintings. There were people in little door less, wall-less stores selling food and other items. A few street vendors were selling tobacco products. It was a glimpse of the past; it was what people would have done hundreds of years ago.
On some streets I saw that there were newer constructions, the newer buildings being oddly juxtaposed among the older buildings.
“Those are newer?” I asked, pointing to a trendy cafe.
“The Hutongs are vanishing, only some of them are under protection. They are being removed to make way for newer buildings like those. It makes me sad to see them go. These streets are the life of the common people since the Ming and Qing dynasty, they are rich with traditional culture and customs. “
It was bittersweet. The newer boutiques and cafes would bring in more business and tourists. These old lanes of the Beijing Hutongs were a glimpse of the past. With the Hutongs gone, we would lose the charm, character and intimacy of the old ways. The warmth of the old way of life over for the modern, more insular lifestyle.
“Thank you for showing me this part of China. I wouldn’t have known about the Hutong without your guide.”
“My pleasure, miss! Now, let us take you to that famous Peking duck. I bet you have tasted nothing as delicious, or my name isn’t Ming!”
“I bet you are right, Ming. Let’s go.”