BOCI informed me about a place called
Factory 798 in the Dashanzi district, which a friend of his had said that it was not to be missed. After Googling for it and reading up on what this place was all about, I was surprised, enlightened, and subsequently delighted to learn that this is Beijing's premiere art district in which many artists moved into the abandoned buildings and set up studios and galleries there, creating a community of creatives.
And it wasn't just any old abandoned building either. Construction of
Factory 798 began as a joint project between the Soviet Union and the People's Republic of China as part of the "Socialist Unification Plan" in the early 1950s. The Bauhaus-designed factories, thanks to East German engineers and architects, produced military and civilian equipment such as the loudspeakers which are still erected at Tian'anmen Square.
Though the transformation from factory to art galleries and studios at Factory 798 wasn't quite like the oyster-shucking plant-turned-chic high-rise condominiums and boutique stores of Yaletown, the metamorphosis of the buildings and the land it sits on was just as amazing. Seeing Mao's propaganda slogans painted on the arched ceilings and the old factory machinery still bolted to the cement floors left me in awe.
The numerous galleries within each offered its own works of art. Some of the more interesting pieces were of the large-scale metal works of which included a very intricate bathtub and shrivelled leaves. Another interesting gallery had a wall of wooden frames with child-like drawings and paintings of various sizes clustered all together covering every square inch of wall space. Even the graffiti on the factory walls had artistic merit, as it was more than just tags.
It gave character to the place which would otherwise be only seen as a dusty wasteland of dilapidated buildings, much like most hutongs.
The only comically unusual part about our first-time visit to Factory 798 was when we decided to rest our tired legs and sit down for drinks at a coffee shop, only to find out that they didn't have any water to make coffee or tea. We thought our waitress was pulling our legs
but she kept insisting that they had no water and never cracked a smile. Jokingly, I asked if they served the soups listed on the menu, and to our surprise, they did. Since running water is unfit for human consumption here, I figured that they just ran out of bottle water, but what then would they use to make the soups? We didn't want to find out, so we went to the cafe next door instead. With a more inviting European decor to this establishment,
we sat down once again and ordered a cappuccino and a glass of ice tea. After the waitress took our orders, she returned to our table 15 minutes later with my ice tea and informed BOCI that his cappuccino couldn't be made because they didn't have any water. Three questions arose: What kind of joke were they playing on us, just what did they use to make my ice tea if it wasn't water, and why didn't she have the common courtesy of informing us about their water shortage
at the time of ordering? We got up and left without paying for the ice tea. As we were walking out of the district, there was yet another coffee shop at the mouth of the exit. To try our luck once more, we went in to check it out. It may sound rather unusual to ask if they served coffee in a coffee shop in normal circumstances, but that's exactly what I asked. BOCI got his black coffee, and I enjoyed my vanilla cappuccino.
I had to split with BOCI to pick up my 500 kuai 7 KG turkey at
Paul's Steak & Eggs in preparation for the Christmas party this evening. Christmas wouldn't be the same without a turkey dinner, so it was with my insistence and perseverance that I finally managed to seek out a turkey to buy. It's next to impossible finding one here in Beijing (though I did see one walking around at the Beijing zoo). Kim and Max were the early arrivals who showed up
before I arrived at my apartment with the turkey. We had about a dozen guests who showed up to party hard, and boy did we have a lot of fun! Friends of Moe and Clara's and friends and students of mine all came together in one small apartment, each bringing a unique dish or snack to contribute to the pot luck, and a small gift for the "
Wichteln Gift Exchange".
Food was plentiful, and the cheers and laughter
were frequent, rendering the Christmas music I was playing on iTunes almost inaudible. As if we weren't having enough fun already, I unleashed the "Who Am I?" game with names of celebrities, politicians, CEOs, or otherwise famous characters written on a post-it note and stuck it on the backs of each of our guests as they entered through the door.
The rest, I shall leave you with the pictures doing the talking. Enjoy.
It snowed this morning like I've never seen it snow before in Beijing. The ground was covered in white, and on this, I set out to pick up a good friend of mine from the airport. I've been looking forward to this day ever since Dutchman emailed me his confirmed Air Canada flight itinerary a few weeks before. I was elated.
apartment back when my CouchSurfing guest, BOCI, flew out of Beijing on his last day here. 16 RMB was all it cost, compared to the 110 RMB it would have cost by taking a taxi.
I thought about making a huge sign out of a large piece of cardboard with "DUTCHMAN" written in multi-coloured sparkle-markers and compete with the limited space at the arrivals gate where a crowd of others queued with their small signs of their own, but I didn't have the time.
skin-tone, appeared. Nearly a foot taller than every one else, too. I was embraced with a familiar bear hug, shortly after. Something familiar in a foreign place of unfamiliarity. A little piece of Canada.
Unfortunately, despite my great effort in waiving my hand in the air, and despite Dutchman's holly "whiteness" and "dashing good looks" (his words, not mine), we walked all the way back. Clara, my flatmate, informed me later that when it snows in Beijing, an unoccupied taxi gets really hard to find. So much for his holiness.
