Travel, 50+, China

China is pretty hard to unpack (unless you ordered it from Temu, in which case it has already sort of unpacked itself at arrival). To boot, many of my personal experiences easily drill through PG-13, up the R's and beyond. Some of the internet folks might even think a lot of that is NSFW, albeit not necessarily in the way we both know you are thinking right now. (Naughty!) So, let us try something a little different this time. Towards the end, you'll have the "usual" stuff. Before that, we will do what Disney did to brothers Grimm.
Hint: Skip the italics, if you're not into experimental fairy tales based on a true story.

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away...

...there was a man called Uncle Gweilo. A newly arrived meanderer, looking for his fortune. Sharp in his mind what he wants, unconcerned in regards of where he wants it. Might as well try the Children of Dragons, he thought to himself. Might as well try the land of the Yellow Emperor, he pondered. And there he was.

It was evident there was fortune all upon this land. It was manifest this fortune was not for everyone. Uncle Gweilo stood not a speck frightened. Not a sliver hesitant. Chest puffed out, eyes bright and inspecting the area like a watchman. Looking for adventure, glory and success. Prepared to pick a ring from under the eye of Sauron, if that is what it took.

Apparent, as it soon became, no amount of self-confidence and drive was enough to have a fortune simply fall on your lap. There were rules no one told you. As Uncle Gweilo broke one, he would receive a forgiving smile. Behind the smile, however, there was a notebook. Possibly a little red one. It would remember each faux and every pas. Were your name to enter the pages, not even the blue end of the eraser would remove it. The door would be closed. A window remained shut. Even with no rules broken, no rituals tarnished, the city seemed forbidden. No, not that one. The one called "度 愛 耨 與" (if you cannot see Chinese symbols, sorry, you lost this "gag")

The sky seemed less blue, the streets felt more cold and Uncle Gweilo had to take a deep breath to quell frustration like it was 1989. The oxygen revitalized the flame. A candle upon head provided Uncle Gweilo with an old spell called "Hey I'm a white dude". With this and the carefully curated locations of appearance, doors began to open. Gatekeepers begun to look the other way.

Uncle Gweilo fed, physically and spiritually. The hosts were polite for as long as their back felt scratched. Soon enough, however, the shoulders grew cold. Were you not somebody, you were nobody. Novelty wears out fast in the Orient. In this dog eat dog world, there was no room for curious cats. 4 like the one child policy, kittens turned to mittens quicker than a whisker vibrated. Uncle Gweilo's spell of appearances fooled no shadow walking in the light, but there was the world of darkness where people paced with candles of their own.

Towers of glass with locks and gatekeepers disappeared as Uncle Gweilo entered the area with houses of stone and no doors. Ungle Gweilo nodded at the mother, who was voluptuously overflowing into the mouth of her heir. She puckered her brow, but did not drive the stranger away. Some steps later, an old man with scrap on a tricycle greeted with smiles and laughter. Barbers were running shops on the yard of their houses, tables with parasols were shops and without parasols the tables were bars. An odd sight at this side of the city, Uncle Gweilo was invited in.

Despite comprehensive linguistical challenges, the peasants continued to talk and Uncle Gweilo continued to listen. At the assistance of a passing local youth, a solution of sorts was presented. A side quest that would help Uncle Gweilo accumulate xp until he could take down a gatekeeper or two. The peasants told there was a river with answers. They could take Uncle Gweilo there and they would show how it worked. Uncle Gweilo accepted.

The river was called Baijiu. "Drink from it." They said with a smile. "You will see a world beyond." Uncle Gweilo looked the river. It was clear. It smelled like acid burn, though, and Uncle Gweilo hesitated. The peasants laughed. One of them explained, "Drink and manifest your true self. Drink and fell a gatekeeper." Uncle Gweilo agreed, but only after the peasants did it first. Erupting in laughter, they agreed.

The river tasted like battery acid smelled. The burn was real. So were the effects. The peasants had not lied. But the peasants had omitted something. The river, it was cursed. The more you gulped, the more you drank until you turned into a pink faced parakeet. This was, of course, the hidden agenda with the peasants. They were certain they could weather the effects long enough to get what they were scheming for. With the stamina built over years of practice, they thought, the stranger had no hope. There was only one way to avoid this. One way to avoid the curse of the river. A legend so esteemed, it would only be mentioned in whispers. The enchanted liver.

Little did they know, Uncle Gweilo came prepared. He was born with just that. Pink faced parakeet after pink faced parakeet, the peasants fell. At the end of the evening, it was just Uncle Gweilo himself. Bored with the situation, he sailed along the river and found others quenching their thirst. One after another the curse took them over, but each time Uncle Gweilo would receive a gift. A rung for the social ladder.

Evening after another, Uncle Gweilo would grind the side quests, climbing the ladder. Then came a man in his late thirties who looked like he was in his early seventies. "I see what you are doing." The man said. "I advice against it." Uncle Gweilo was confused as this seemed to be the only way to advance. "I will give you a golden rung, if you end this. You do not want to meet the owner of the river, Sir Roses." Baffled, confused and dumbstruck, Uncle Gweilo agreed to this strange deal. A golden rung was received and what a rung it was!

The golden rung fit in all steps and opened all doors. Uncle Gweilo felt invincible and drunk on this feeling, he picked the first good looking offer. Finally! The fortune. Clever got Uncle Gweilo so far, tricky got him in. Or so he thought. Marching pompously like Cock Robin, Uncle Gweilo arrived to his first meeting. It quickly turned into a challenge by a second wife to battle a third. Only then would the deal be struck. Only then would Uncle Gweilo find his fortune.
"You will have to have a gentle manly fight..." The second wife explained. "A struggle of swords over the Well of Desperation."
Uncle Gweilo looked at the third, who looked away in silence.
"All spoils to the victor!" The second wife uttered a husky, deep whisper as she began to remove the cover of the well.
Alas, Uncle Gweilo took none but a receding bow.

Business he had been promised, but of the monkey kind he had been offered. That was not the fortune Uncle Gweilo had been looking for. Well of Desperation of all things... Tragic were the legends told of it. The more you drank from it, the more you would thirst for it. Spoils indeed.
"Hey you!" A voice called, snuffing out the ruminations.
"Me?" Uncle Gweilo asked as he spun around. A man was there, lording over, presumably evil.
"Yes, you. You did not battle her champion?" The man paced forwards, sharp eyes piercing the skull and into the very soul of Uncle Gweilo.
"I did not." Uncle Gweilo admitted.
"How fortunate." The man said with a grin under dead eyes. "For that, you shall have this."
A rung of diamond. In Uncle Gweilo's hand, it was a rung of diamond. Something that should not be. Something to open even the doors you could not see.
And everyone lived happily ever after. Except for .. you know.

Out of China, I spent far more time in Beijing than anywhere else. I did visit other nearby areas, but cannot tell where (plus Henan). I was taken to places because having a white guy around was like parading a trophy wife still is. Here and there, I was filmed blind with flashes with people buzzing around asking "who's he? is he somebody?" and the funniest part is when no one recognizes you, making you a nobody. You can feel the crash of sky high enthusiasm and the paparazzi cursing as they delete most, if not all, of your photos.

At the time, a lot of people thought Beijing is just a boring capital with a handful of main sights (Forbidden City, Great Hall of the People, the Great Wall [rebuilt, by the way, non original around this area], the square where nothing happened, Temple of Heaven, hutongs and a couple of parks). A lot of people still do. Many prefer Shanghai or Hong Kong thinking there's so much more to see, but in my view, Beijing is not in the shadow of these more popular cities. There's a lot of interesting stuff to see and do. It's just that famous in foreign countries. The city is constantly changing, too, and what you found last time around is probably no longer there. And, were you to truly go for a deep BJ, you have to know someone.

The cuisine up north is not particularly spicy, so it's an easy access for pretty much everyone. It can even lean towards European or, rather, Russian. Even in the sense of booze, which truly flows. Not vodka, however, but baijiu. It's basically a transparent vile battery acid cocktail with potentially a whiff of a rotten fruit if it's one of those "special" versions. The only one worth trying, really, is the ancient and famed Luoyang baijiu that people called "Dukang" named after the "inventor of alcohol and patron saint of winemakers" (as legends go).

It was already pretty brutal back then, were you to try and do some business. Most people ask one of two (or both) questions, depending on their status: 1) what's in it for me, 2) who are you?/are you somebody? I was lucky enough to meet and communicate with every kind, from the lowliest of the low barely scraping by to middle class to the highest of the high and, of course, the surviving members of Tang Dynasty. I was lucky enough to meet all the legends of my line of business. All it took was making connections with connections who had connections and so on (in China, this can be a bit harder than in most other cultures). You don't generally just walk in and meet people who can actually help you out. Unless, if you think about helping you out in the basic touristy ways (for which you will need to speak at least basic Chinese in most scenarios, or have a translator with you). If you need help, those who have very little to nothing are the most likely to help you. They are the most likely to know the city, too. Example: you're looking for a post office? The rich have never heard of such thing, the middle class don't know where it is and the poor will point it out for you. (To simplify.) Anyway, I hear it's far more brutal now.

There is no one China. You might think there is, but there isn't. It's one of those seemingly collectivist cultures that are insanely individualistic behind the curtain. They don't even know all of their superstitions (of which there are many). For example, I was asking around about lizards I kept seeing in vehicles and a whole lot of people didn't seem to know (it's for "protection from crashes"), while everyone does know the basics such as numbers (4 is so bad it's often removed from buildings and transportation, as well as 14 and sometimes even 13, while numbers like 6, 9 and especially 8 are much better, whereas 88 means something akin to "bye bye" while, as you may know, it doesn't quite sell the same in the "west").

China is surprisingly safe despite the reputation. You're most likely to be hurt by traffic (what rules? plus the silent and deadly e-vehicles), nature or pollution (which threat is going down in many parts of the country). However, I was nearly tackled down a mountain by a girl who wanted to see something I have. It is not uncommon for people to rush at you to take a picture of a thing they want to steal as a design for "their idea".

The Judgment:
China has many faces and a tourist will not be able to perceive most. The reasons vary from size to cultures to languages to politics, rapid change and many others. I've studied a bunch of the history, culture and more (university), lived there for a bit and I still have not seen a whole lot. On a positive flip, there's so much to see and experience. In short, the place has been one of the most interesting and educational experiences in my life. Even just Beijing is a place where you will never get bored (but you will get tired). What to say? Choose a few main things and extend from there, if you are going. Oh, and if it sounds like the Chinese are fighting, they're fighting. They say "that's just how we talk / that's just the language"... No. They're fighting. They fight A LOT and don't even register it most of the time. What else? The food is good, but there is no "Chinese food" and most especially the food you get in most Chinese restaurants in the "west" is not Chinese food (or high school cafeteria level at the most, if per natives real Chinese). I guess a lot of the rest is either stuff I cannot mention here or it escapes my mind, writing this after a long day of work. Welp...

Would I go again? Yes.