I started the day burning three incense sticks in front of giant Buddhas and ended it chatting with a Russian woman from Yakutsk.
This is not a typical day in my life but when travelling, there’s no such thing as a typical day.
Now, I’m sure you know a thing or two about Buddhism and incense sticks, or at least, it makes sense considering we’re in China. But have you ever heard of Yakutsk?
Neither did I until 12:20 a.m.
A woman and I were both smoking in front of the apartment building—it was pitch dark, we could barely see each other but it must have been obvious to her that I was not Chinese. She asked me where I was from in broken English. I replied in Chinese—in the dark, she looked Chinese to me.
“No, no Chinese. I, Russia!”
“Which part?”
She gave me a puzzled look.
“The Moscow side?” I pointed to the left. “Or the Vladivostok side?”
She shrugged and pointed up. “Yakutsk.”
“Yakutsk? Where is that?”
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, launched Baidu, and zoomed on Russia—well, maybe “zoomed” is a strong word considering half of my Samsung screen was already Russia.
It took her a minute to locate Yakutsk—that’s how huge Russia is, even Russians are lost in Russia.
I looked at the map again, then I zoomed out.
A lot.
Well, let’s just say the Russian Far East and the Sakha Republic aren’t part of any of my future travel plans but I’m sure it’s a lovely place.
“Is it a good place to live?” I felt the need to ask.
“Life is good,” she said.
My turn to shrug, almost involuntarily. She didn’t seem to be offended.
I asked her how she travelled from Yakutsk to Beijing—I knew why she was here, her daughter is a student close to Shenyang—but she replied “15th floor”. I really wasn’t sure how to rephrase and we were both tired, so we parted way in the elevator (5th floor for me).
So yeah, it’s been one of these days—surprising, unlikely, and fun.
We started at the Lama Temple, one of Beijing’s Tibetan Buddhist temples. We just followed the smell of incense from the subway station—it was stronger than in my teenage bedroom (burning incense was still trendy in the 1990s in France).
In fact, we were given incense sticks at the door because apparently, the more incense, the better (the holier?). I’m shocked the temple hasn’t caught on fire yet—the strategically placed buckets of water probably help.
Then we moved on to Qianmen, where Feng and Mark had some Beijing duck in a small eatery while I went exploring the narrow alleys.
It started raining, and five minutes later, the vendors came out in the street with 10-yuan umbrellas. Problem, solution. Then the sun came out again and the umbrellas were promptly rebranded as “UV protection umbrellas”.
We moved on to Chaoyang to see the night lights, then to Sanlitun to see the nightlife. I (we) spent many nights in Sanlitun back in 1999—this is where we went clubbing, dancing to hits from the 1980s that were still popular in China. However, I had never walked to Sanlitun because back then, five or six of us would pile up into a taxi from Fuchengmen.
The nightclub (I think it was called “Nightman Disco,” we had to pronounce it the Chinese way for taxi drivers to understand) is probably long gone but Sanlitun is still lively.
This is our last weekend in China. I don’t want to leave, there’s still so much to explore…
