Beijing: Beware the Steamed Buns
Beijing Travel Blog› entry 12 of 129 › view all entries
The way to get around this city is, like most people, by bicycle. Me and a Britsh tourist my age fetch around town on our rusty FungHuang's. I've never seen so many bikes in once place before. One parking rack was an entire block long. How in the world could one find their bike in that pile of them? Confirmed that indeed, one of Mao's ears is starting to turn green. No sign of the student uprisings. Even the paving stones in the square have been replaced. It may well have never happened (at least that's the government's wish). My hair is getting quite long so I get a haircut from a old man who set up shop in the middle of the street. His mirror is nailed to a tree. He takes a very long time snipping here and there with hand-powered clippers and I think he's doing a marvous job, but I can't see, as the mirror is positioned away from my view.
On my last day, when I had plans to visit the Summer Palace, I became quite ill - feverish, no appetite, cramps and the worst diarrhea of my life. Too sick to even go to see a doctor, I look up the symptoms in the health section of my guidebook, self diagnose myself as having baccilary dysentery, probably from the steamed buns I ate yesterday in the old town (much of which has since been razed to the ground in preparation for the Olympics). I send a Danish traveler to the pharmacy with the chinese words for the medicine I'll need. I now have enough for a week's treatment and need to get better soon because we are leaving the next day for Mongolia. Fortunately, by the time we get to the ger camp, my fever begins to subside and I feel 90% better.