"This Magnificent Edifice"

Dear Chairman Mao,

It was a pleasure to finally see your glowing face on Thursday. I’m sorry it has taken me so long to visit. I’ve heard so much about you! While I probably will not have the chance to visit you again, I can assure you I will frequently see your face and will continue to hear of your influence and power.

好运

Sara

My mom and I decided to go and take the pilgrimage to see the leader of Chinese Communism. I went in expecting hours of lines, heat exhaustion and simply have another thing to check off my bucket list and instead only waited in line for 30 minutes for one of the most typical Chinese experiences.

As we stepped up to get in line, a man holding an umbrella and a megaphone informed my mother and I that we first must go across the street, go through two security checks and a list of questions about the contents of our bags, and pay five yuan to drop off our purses. Chinese response: Mei wen ti! American response: Forget this.

My mom and I made out way back to the line, at which point we were shuffled onto the area of sidewalk inside the yellow lines painted on the ground, accompanied by a yellow rope to guide you even better. When I say we made our way back to the line, I should probably clarify and chose to instead refer to it as the river of people who happen to be headed the same direction we were. There was no sense of placement, and instead, everyone wiggled around each other, constantly cutting and then falling behind and yet constantly moving in unison towards our destination.

It was in this line that my mom and I discussed the difference between Chinese and American mentalities. In America, no one would put up with cutting in line. There’s a strong sense of personal space and placement. I’m first in line, you’re second, you’re third, and you’re standing a little too close. There was a point while standing in line, when I felt one person behind me bump up against me, and as I turned to glance back the person took advantage of the extra space and about ten people squeezed through the middle of the horde of people towards the front. Having been already thinking about the differences, I was amazed by how no one around me seemed to care. Yes, they may have to wait a moment longer somewhere along the way, but to everyone around me… we, as a group, were moving and that’s all that mattered.

After hurrying through yet another security check which included an ID check and being prodded by many a short lady’s umbrella, we finally reached Chairman Mao Memorial Hall. Flowers were sold outside to be placed in the “splendid North Hall”, not near his body, but instead in front of a marble statue of Mao. Even though everyone was “shhh”ed by the lady at the front door, there were men pushing people along and shouting at those who attempted to stop as we entered the “solemn Hall of Last Respects”.

And then, just as quickly as we had entered, we were back out in the bustling Tian An Men square searching our memory for the quick glimpse we were allowed of the wax figure plastered to a crystal coffin which hold the leaders remains.

Adventure complete. Checked off the bucket list. Experienced. Examined. Processed. And now written about. And after all this…..

…. I’m still left wondering if his remains were really in that room or not.

再见, 亲爱的