Buddhahood

You know, I’m just not a shopper.

This morning’s excursion was to the largest antiques market in China. Not a tourist trap, like the jade, pearl, and silk factories, but an honest-to-goodness street market patronized by locals and tourists alike. Acres of goods, from garden statuary to furniture, old books to antique radios. Ceramics, art, dolls, metalwork. Side shops selling jadeite and pearls.

Eh.

Mobbed, as everything is mobbed in Beijing. The air was horrible, filled with the smoke of fragrant incense and stinking Chinese cigarettes. My eyes burned. And the heat was unbearable today. After an hour I had to leave, so we went back to the bus, found a shady spot to wait in until the others returned. We didn’t buy anything, though others in our group found treasures to take back home.

Lunch.

In the afternoon, the Yong He Gong, a magnificent Tibetan Buddhist temple. I’d provide a link for you (as I’m too tired to write about it tonight), but for some reason the sites I’ve found seem to be blocked here.

I don’t write much about our meals because they are all the same: a variety of meat and vegetable dishes served family style. Don’t get me wrong--the food is quite good: well-prepared and fresh. But, it’s a little like eating at one of our Rochester Chinese buffets for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Every. Day.

Tonight I’m skipping the “clash of the choruses” and hanging out in the room, washing out underwear and socks and drinking a kind of Chinese sherry that tastes like a cross between sweetened soy sauce and gasoline. I’ll get back to my regular boring diet of cheap Chilean wine and popcorn soon enough, so I’m enjoying the new flavors. I’ve discovered jasmine tea and pineapple sandwich cookies; Asahi super “dry” beer and steamed buns from the deli.

Maybe it’s time to try some of the more exotic local specialties. Crickets, pig’s feet. But--what if I fall in love with scorpion-on-a-stick? That’s a craving I can’t satisfy in Rochester (as far as I know).