Back from the Capital

I just back from a whirl wind trip to Beijing. Not a cultural adventure, just a big re-stocking of the can't-get-it-here kinds of things we think we'll need over the course of the next months and years.

I caught the first flight I could after getting The Three up and out the door Thursday morning. At Beijing Capital Airport I hailed a cab and went directly to the blue and yellow mecca off the 4th Ring Road (IKEA or Yi jia in Mandarin). I did a quick perusal of the showrooms (those clever inventions that show how a Beijing family of three can live both stylishly and economically in 4 sq meters space -- okay so it's more than 4 sq. meters, but small spaces nevertheless.)

Giving a nod to my Scandinavian heritage, I dined at the cafeteria on Swedish meatballs, lingon berry sauce, and mashed potatoes replete with a tiny Swedish flag planted squarely in this Nordic staple starch. I was surrounded by plates of food geared more to the Asian palate: pepper beefs, noodles, and veg dishes. I selected a seat near the window, where Beijing's two tell tale signs of spring where evident: trees on the cusp of budding, and yellow-grey skies filled with the Mongolian dust, a product of deforestation and the strong winds that blow in from the dry Gobi in the spring.

Perched beside me were the figures I have now come to expect at Chinese IKEAs. A quartet of fifty-something women, the upper middle class types with perms, polyester pants, and what I presumed to be their New Year's sweaters, jovially playing a ruckus game of poker. They weren’t there for the shopping. Just for the table for four by the window and an endless supply of free hot water for the ever-present tea bottles they tote.

I glanced at my watch, and realized I still literally had hours before I was set to meet my friend from QD who would arrive in BJ on a later flight. Taking a cue from the jovial card sharks, I took time to peruse a few electronic pages of my latest download from Amazon Kindle. Why not take advantage of a comfortable chair indoors on an otherwise dreary March afternoon. (When in Rome… er, Beijing!)

I lingered over my lingon berry juice and pondered my list. (I had e-mailed a pdf of my shopping list to my iphone, which provided exact locations of everything.) Sufficiently nourished on the victuals that gave my Viking ancestors the strength to conquer the then-known free world, I tackled the remaining bulky items on my list.

In total I spent nearly seven hours at Yi jia. Three trolley loads, and several thousand yuan later, I successfully negotiated the shipping of four tables, seven chairs, two stools and an easel; two soft mattresses on which we’ll rest our tired Western backs (no longer will we be putting up with the plywood lined Asian mattresses!) and a sundry of other goods to Qingdao. Suffice to say, I am not eager to debate between the Lycksele Håvet, the Lycksele Lövås or the Lycksle Murbo (mattress brands of the great Yi Jia); or for that matter, see the inside of another IKEA for anytime soon!

I took a short cab ride to our hotel, where I waited for my friend to arrive and check in. In the morning she was off to the embassy district (theirs is a colourful and international family of four, which hold passports to three countries!). I had a leisurely lie in, met up with my friend, perused a grocery store of more can't-get-it-in-Qingdao-and-so-I-will-belligerently-spend-what-ever-the-over-the-top-price-is (if its something any of the Johnson's in QD have had a hankering for). We had a quick early lunch, I bade my friend farewell as she embarked on another embassy visit, I booked a fabulous massage, then rejoined my friend and had time to share a golden ginger smoothie @ Element Fresh with her before we caught a cab back to the airport.

The drama that ensued was exhausting. My friend had to surrender her passport at one of the embassies in order to obtain a tourist visa. (They will mail the passport back to her QD residence in 5 days.) They sent her on her way with a photo copy of her entire passport, a stamp certifying that that country’s government had her passport, and a phone number to call in case we ran into trouble. We had to use the number… but in the end she prevailed. (I had gone ahead to our gate, rationalizing that if she couldn’t make it back to QD on the plane, at least I could be back to help care for her two little girls over the weekend.) Much to my surprise, she arrived at our gate victorious, shortly before we were due to board. (It is not a coincidence that she is one of the “strong” women I had coffee with last week!) I won’t go into the details, as there are not my details to tell, but I will say she’s one tough chic to talk the Chinese authorities into allowing her to travel sans passport. I will also say this: if you ever find yourself in that situation, hope that it’s in a line full of other foreigners, and be willing to make a scene.

When she messaged me this afternoon I learned we had both tumbled into our beds exhausted last night… as it turns out...IKEAs, embassies and emotional outbursts can wear you out!