Visiting the Forbidden City was impressive but I have to say, it's a dusty residence. We looked through glass windows into rooms filled with opulent furniture in sumptuous fabrics, but all I could see was the thick coating of dust covering every surface. Here's a tip for the Chinese government: Swiffer.
The rooms are no longer open to the public because officials fear the human touch would cause ruination. Folks, the grime's going to get it first.
I took an audio tour. The day was sunny and warm and, even with the holiday crowds, I never felt confined in the 180 acres of pavilions and courtyards. The grounds house 9,999 buildings, including the Halls of Supreme Harmony, Complete Harmony and Preserving Harmony. That's a lot of harmony.
Surely there would be no reason for agitation in such a place, but a cursory piece of historic research had me agog in a litany of bloodshed by suicide, fire and poison. Concubines and eunuchs were regularly hung by reams of white silk or cut to pieces by the slash of a sword. Light on harmony and heavy on cacophony.
Taking a break on a low stone wall, I was approached by a young man who said he was a painter and would I "please walk over here" to see his work. He told me he was chosen to move to the U.S., where a famous art teacher would mentor him. He just needed to sell a few pieces to pay for his passage. I took a quick look into the cubbyhole where some canvases sat. He pulled them out one after another to show me. I wished him luck and walked away.
A few minutes later, Mr. Leung, an English-speaking gentleman from our group, came over to me. He was concerned that I might have been inappropriately bothered by the fellow. I assured Mr. Leung I was fine and that it was only a scam.
What do you mean? he asked.
It's a con. These guys are all over the place. The works are painted in factories by copycat artists and tourists are told a big lie.
No.
Yes, I'm afraid so.
How do you know this?
And I showed him my Lonely Planet guidebook with the scam described exactly as I'd experienced it. I couldn't fault that guy. He was making a living and apparently it was a sanctioned one since he was given storage space in the Forbidden City.
Mr. Leung shook his head, sat beside me and we began to chat. He was traveling with his wife. He wondered why I was alone on the tour and I told him about William busy at work in Hong Kong.
You're very brave, he said.
No I'm not.
Oh yes, you are. It's courageous to take a Chinese tour all by yourself.
I laughed. No, I promise you, I'm not brave, I'm — and the word popped out of my mouth like a bubble in a cartoon — cheap.
There it was: the truth. I don't think I'm stingy with others, but I am with myself and here was the nut of my shopping anguish. I couldn't let go and spend with abandon. It wasn't in me. Some of us who grew up in stringent households have that quality ingrained in our character. I will forever search for a bargain.
I could think of exactly one person who appreciated this quality and he was waiting for me back in Hong Kong.
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