Nanhaizi Milu Park

For twenty-odd years, I have followed the amazing story of sibuxiang, or Pere David's deer, but never saw one in person until my visit to the Nanhaizi Milu Park south of Beijing--in its natural surroundings.


This animal, (latin: Elaphurus davidianus) is known by various names: officially, the Chinese call it Milu, it was historically referred to as sibuxiang, literally none of the four or something similar, and is commonly known in the West as Pere David's deer, for the French missionary and naturalist who discovered it.

By the end of the Boxer Rebellion at the turn of the last century, there were only 18 of the animals in existence,and they were all at a single private reserve in England. Through the efforts of a Czechoslovak naturalist named Maya Boyd, whose husband was a friend of the then-current Duke of the English estate, the deer were returned to China beginning in 1985.


Today, the park functions as a research and breeding facility, as well as an environmental education park and wildlife refuge. It stands on the original grounds of the Hunting Park of King Wen the Cultured, founder of the Zhou dynasty, who first ordered preservation of the animals.

The park is mainly a wetlands area, for the milu are a rare deer that love water, their tall, broad hooves and backward-sweeping antlers being evolutionary adaptations to this environment, a fact not lost of Father David when he first viewed them on this site in 1865, just as Darwin's theory was sweeping through the scientific world. In addition to the large wilderness reserve, the park has several features including a children's playground, bird-watching pavilion, and an interpretive hall that is rather disappointingly dilapidated.




The photo below from the exhibition hall shows the story of how Father David discovered the deer, 1) watching them in the Emperor's Nanhaizi Hunting Park, 2) bribing guards to send him remains over the high wall for scientific classification--he also introduced the world to the Giant Panda two years later, 3) shipping live animals back to France.


One of the most striking features of the park is the Worldwide Extinction Cemetery, populated with tombstones of earth's creatures that human action has eradicated.



The fact that King Wen decreed their protection about three thousand years ago probably makes the milu the first example of endangered species legislation. All the remaining deer were at Nanhaizi when the River Ho flooded in about 1894 and looters probably picked them off--well, all the deer in China, since fortunately Father David and others had sent numerous pairs to Europe. The 10th Earl of Bedford, Herbrand Russell, quickly gathered 18 surviving deer to his estate and bred them successfully. His great grand-nephew is memorialized at the park for playing a key role in the animal's reintroduction to China in 1985. One of the most famous names in England, the Russell family has a long history of political, scientific and philosophical leadership.

It is both chastening and heartening to realize that the two thousand milu in China, and about that many more in reserves and zoos throughout the world, are all descendants of a handful of animals nurtured by a handful of humans who gave a damn about something beyond themselves with no thought of personal advantage.



In the photos above, you can see the features that led to the name sibuxiang--four unlikeness: it is said to have the head of a horse, the neck of a camel, the tail of a donkey and the hooves of a cow. Note the weird texture of the antlers in my photo--it is February, and some milu grow winter horns (either that, or he may be sick). You can also see the characteristic dark line down the spine, the long, un-deerlike tail, and the coat colors which vary by season. Since it contained the essence of four creatures all in one, Confucian tradition gave it four-fold power. Which explains why its hunting and consumption was limited to the royal family.

I have to admit this will be an amazing highlight of my Beijing trip. That said, the Milu Park had still more to offer: I give you the many benches scattered through the park, each carved with an inspirational or thought-provoking environmentalist saying--there was even a Mark Twain quote, "Man is the only animal that blushes, or needs to."



Finally, have you ever wondered where Olympic mascots go when they have outlived their usefulness and are put out to pasture? The answer appears to be Nanhaizi Milu Park:


How to get there: Take the 729 bus from near Qianmen (a subway stop and a "gate" just south of Chairman Mao's mausoleum, use Exit C), down the west side past about two hutong. The ride lasts about an hour and is a chance to see Beijing at see level. Get off at Jiu Gong and find a pedicab driver or taxi to take you the rest of the way. It cost me 10 yuan.
How to get back: My return trip was fortuitous in that a cab was delivering people to the park just as I was leaving--otherwise, my plan was going to involve asking the souvenir shop guy to call me cab. Get back to a bus stop for 729 headed north and you're solid.

Beijing Days 1 & 2

Ni Hao! First things first: the flight via Air China was fine, if a little late; the Beijing Airport is an architectural marvel, though I can illustrate that fact with few photos. Still, here are two:



After meeting up with TB we ate a delicious lamb dinner and then dropped by a pair of bars near the the Drum Tower and the Bell Tower, two landmarks known for sound-making--apparently having to do with noting the passage of time or sounding the alarm. I didn't take any photos of the towers, since it was dark, but here I am inside one of the bars (the atmosphere in both was laid back and kind of jazzy):


We eventually made our way to his pad, ina district called Haidian, on the nineteenth floor of onelarge building set amidst a slew of similar buildings. His flat is roughly comparable to mine, except he has a separate kitchen and laundry area--but I have a loft.

Fade up, Thursday: he leaves me with perfect instructions, translations, etc to get me to my activities for the day, and then goes to work. I have no problems, as the subway has pinyin translations and works much like the Seoul Metro. And it's like half-price. I make my way to Tiananmen-dong (the dong means east in both Korean and Chinese), look around at the National Flag, the Greae Hall of the People and such, then head across the street (via the underpass) to Tiananmen Plaza with the well-known enormous portrait of Chairman Mao.



Only, I aim a little to the left and enter something called Zhongshan Park, with a 3 yuan (40 cents or so) entrance fee, which is dedicated to Sun Yat Sen, a revolutionary hero usually regarded as the Father of modern China, for his three principles of "peace, freedom, and equality", for leading the revolt against the Qing dynasty, and for being--twice--the president of a more-or-less democratic Chinese republic.

Even at the marginal rate of an additional 2 yuan, the Sun Yat Sen Museum is kind of disappointing, it's main feature being the giant seated statue. In the top right display, note that though the pen and canes are real, the pistol and eating utensils are actually themselves photographs. The autopsy report is a special bonus.





However, the grounds, the park itself which occupies a large expanse west of Tiananmen/Forbidden City, is awesome, even in February. It's decorated with cypress trees, willows, bamboo, firs and evergreens, carefully tended and spaced among Karst-type limestones that lend an otherworldly feel to Mr. Sun's memorial.







Next, I went through Tiananmen Square, which mainly had hawkers, touts and booths selling crap that looked like this:


You go through this section, where I had a fine meal in the "fast food" restaurant of delicious beef, cabbage and rice for 20 yuan (4000 won) to reach the Forbidden City (30 yian). I'll guess this is one of the most photographed locales on the planet today, and leave you with this one:


I also went to the Temple of Heaven, somewhat south of the Tiananmen area. Later on, I met up with TB and we did some stuff, including eating Beijing Duck at an amazingly decrepit restaurant in some hard-to-find hutong, and I wrote my name on the wall in a cool little student bar in Tanner's neighborhood.



Incidentally, it rained gently but persistently all day long, but did I let that stop me? No. Slow me down? Well ... yeah.

Preliminary Ruminations on China

Korea Times notes that the Seoul government has hired a lobbyist in Washington, DC to shepherd through the so-called KORUS free trade agreement, which has been languishing in Congress for years.

A big issue in the states has been, and remains, beef imports to Korea, which have been hampered by incorrect impressions that US beef is responsible for "mad cow" outbreaks--what Koreans call crazy cow. What's crazy, of course, is the claim that US beef has ever been responsible for BSE illness.

Another issue is the automotive imbalance. On the order of a million Korean cars are sold in the US each year, whereas a paltry 6000, according to the article, make the reverse trip. My own brother used to bitch about this, but has been much more conciliatory now that Kia is opening a plant in his backyard, near LaGrange, GA. Koreans have a cultural mindset that buying a non-Korean car is virtually treasonous. Furthermore, it's hard to argue in the states that, dollar-for-dollar, Korean cars are a much wiser choice. Much wiser.

US Secretary of State Hilary Clinton will be in Seoul soon, and will be followed by hubbie Bill in May, and I'm sure both will try to get Cheong Wa Dae to make significant changes in KORUS. I don't know the extent to which they'll succeed, and I'm not sure they should.

After all, China gets most or all of the same perks as Korea, except, of course, the 8th Army's on-going presence, even though it has a government and ideology that is antithetical to US and Korean interests.

I'll grant you that Korea's democracy is imperfect, but it needs encouragement, whereas the Chinese government needs quashing--a wake-up call, a realignment of moral values. I remember watching the whole Tiananmen Uprising--to me, that was when CNN made its bones, not the first Iraq War--really hoping we were seeing the demise of an outmoded and unpopular system of government. What a disappointment to see the clearing of Tiananmen that week-end in June, right after Heritage's graduation ceremonies. After Tank Man, I didn't see how they could continue.

Korea had had it's own breaking point a couple of years earlier, and broke in favor of democracy, and held real elections the next year; China, to its shame, took the opposite path, and murdered some thousands of its own people, though the exact number will never be known.

Of course, another number that will never be known is the value of US dollars sold into the Chinese treasury to pay for George Bush's tax cuts for the super-rich and his war of choice in Iraq. Before you start to object to that characterization, if you wish to, please note that the recent years of Republican rule have, in just EIGHT years, virtually DOUBLED the entire debt of the United States accrued during the previous TWO HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FOUR.

The Chinese don't need to go to war with the US to crush it, they just need to cash in their T-bills. Yep, Bush sure did make us safer.[/rant]

Anyway, as you may know, I'm headed to Beijing in the morning, and after my flight arrives, I plan to take the subway to city center and have a look around before meeting TB at the Lama Temple Yonghegong. I'll piss on Mao's Tomb while I'm there. Or not.

Check this space regularly for updates.

That smell, that foreigner smell ...

I spent the better part of my waking hours Sat. and Sun. with rival blogger Literary Hero, and all I can say is "The foreigner smell is disgusting."

That comment is gratis Andy, who overheard one adjumma say it to another on a street corner in Itaewon early Sunday afternoon, when I met up with him for some hair-of-the-dog at Gecko's Terrace. Itaewon is a commercial district densely populated with US military and other foreigners. Now, I pictured we'd eat breakfast, have a few beers, and call it a day. Instead, we were each lucky to make the last train home.

We started at Gecko's, which is a pretty nice polished-wood kind of place with comfortable chairs and low tables, where we had the big platter for 12,500 W (about USD 9.15) and a couple of beers. Then to 3 Alley, which I've mentioned a few times before. Then on to Nashville Pub, and finally we played darts for cigarettes at Seoul Pub. Each move was accompanied by a drop in atmosphere and half a pack of cigarettes.

And this was a follow-up to a repeat of lamb skewers and makkuli in Bongchon on Saturday night, the idea being a little get-together before I head to Tanner's Beijing for a week's vacation. I was really jonesin' for some more of that lamb, and it did not disappoint. Below is a pic of makkuli bar owner-dude writing a calligraphy sign that reads, according to Andy, "Closed for special rest time." We had, as they say, a good ol' time.


Not a very productive time, however. So today, I had numerous things to do, the last of which--but certainly not least, dear reader--was updating the blog. So here I am, after working out, mailing off my US bills, converting a couple thousand yuan (which they pronounce rien in Korean), and cleaning the flat. After all, who wants to come home from vacation to find a big mess? Not I--I want a special rest time.

a china poem

oh china
home or homeland of practically everything even here
i buy or even can buy even if at inflated yuen
except maybe cars, but i bet car parts and upholstery
yeah i bet even plenty of car parts come from you

oh china
certainly producer of my socks and underpants
my ashtrays and beer mugs and camera
though my cellphone, both korean and american
are in fact korean but lets not dilute your story
oh china producer of almost most or all my shit

i understand you have whole cities devoted to the production
of just one item or kind of item, like there is a
sock city a city full of sock making factories and
a city hell a metropolis of millions where you manufacture
lighters for cigarettes that confess made in china

on them since we all know things have to say where theyre made
even cigarette lighters and socks and car parts
made in china they say, must say by law and all that bull
even if they sometimes have usa flags stickered over it
so someone can make a profit you dont mind do you china
since youre making a profit too

oh china
have you sold your soul your confucian soul to melamine
and carcinogenic sunglasses from carcinogenic sunglass city
of millions somewhere deep inland where you live
really, where you once lived though youve moved to the coast
pretty much except for the sunglass and lighter and sock
and beer mug and underwear and usa flag sticker cities

where you make usa flag stickers for what purpose, oh china

How to Install the Hangeul IME

한글 is my bitch. Or soon will be. I added something called an IME (Input Management Editor) in order to easily type in hangeul. But, of course, thereby hangs a tale.

First, I went to Control Panel and opened something called "Regional and Language Options" and clicked on the "Keyboards and Languages" tab. Note the OS of my laptop is Windows Vista Home Premium:



I tried the installation procedure I got from a webpage I won't name, but it didn't work. So I went back to the first box above and clicked on "How can I install additional languages?" It opened a new box ironically labelled Windows Help:


Okay, so I do click to open Regional and Language Options, and I do click on the Keyboards and Languages tab. Step 1 finished. Step 2 begins, "Under 'Display Language' ..." Aaarrgh! A quick glance at box No. 1 again will prove to you that there is no "Display Language" section there. That's when I read the Note.

This note suggests that I must upgrade my OS to Vista Ultimate or Vista Enterprise to do what I want. Or in order to install a LIP, I have to have already installed a LIP.

Well, the truth is this: when you go to Add Input Language, there is not one radio box to check, but two, as shown below:


Once you apply and okay your way through all that, you have to go back to Regions and Languages, click again on Keyboards, click on Change Keyboards again, then go to the Language Bar tab. Fix your settings to your preferences. Here are mine:


When you want to type in Hangeul, click on the Language icon and select KO. When the new bar comes up, you can toggle from English to Hangeul or Hanja, the Korean version of Chinese characters.

초숨니다.

Blue Roof-Tiled Big House

That's me in the money shot, so to speak, at Cheong Wa Dae, Office of the President of Korea. Literally, it translates to 'Blue roof-tile big house' and is the Korean equivalent of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. I'm wearing an English audio tour headset.

The tour was scheduled to begin at 1400, and I was to meet Mr Lee, who had arranged the tour, an hour earlier at Gyeongbokgung Station. That's one stop north of Anguk, so I stopped by at the Korean Comfort Women's Protest. There were only two of the halmoni in attendance, as compared to the five last time I went.


I had to leave before the event ended, but met Mr Lee with a half hour to spare before the Cheong Wa Dae tour was to begin. So we visited the National Palace Museum, right next to the subway exit--admission is free for 2009.

It's a fairly big place, so I'll have to go back to see the whole thing, but below are a few photos of interest. Clockwise from top left: a globe and astrolabe; the world's first rain gauge (I don't know how they know); me in front of a slab of slate with a chart of the constellations carved in it; a pair of dragons fighting; a dragon carving; royal garb. Mr Lee told me the Chinese emperor wore yellow, and no one else could; similarly, the Joseon kings wore red, and no one else could. But this was only because the Chinese emperor said they couldn't wear yellow. "The Chinese emperors were very arrogant," Mr Lee pointed out.









After this whirlwind look at one floor of the three-story museum, it was time to catch the bus from the corner of the Gyeongbokgung complex. It was a short ride, then we went through a security check and watched a five-minute video before the actual tour began. We went past a large field, where helicopters land, and I took this picture of a lucky turtle before being told I wasn't supposed to take pictures. Except during certain parts of the tour.


The first legit photo op was this field, once a garden personally-tended by the Joseon kings; the so-called Scholar Tree is in the foreground--studying under it will make you smarter.


Next photo op is drectly in front of the main building. I managed to snap the extremely camera-shy Mr Lee:


Usually, tours get to go inside the official guest residence at Cheong Wa Dae, but it was actually in use today, so we couldn't go. From the outside, it is a very impressive building; the four front pillars are each one solid piece of granite quarried in Korea--they poke through the balcony and support the roof. They are 3 m. in circumference and twenty-odd meters tall.


There was one stop left on the tour, a minor shrine separate from both Cheong Wa Dae and Gyeongbokgung, little known even to Koreans, said Mr Lee. Chilgung (meaning seven palaces) contains the shrines of seven royal concubines whose sons went on to become Joseon kings. Each shrine contains the woman's spirit tablet.


The bus collected us across the street from this fountain and public square, which Mr Lee says is devoted to the Spirit of Democracy or somesuch:


Each person on the tour was given a nice embossed card to commemorate the event, and some, including myself, received a nice coffee mug imprinted with the Cheong Wa Dae emblem. The tour was free, but required booking well in advance, with passport info, and required bringing my passport for admittance.

In the Cardinal's Nest

3 Alley Pub had a nice Superbowl party Sunday night. Oh, wait--I mean Monday morning beginning at 7 AM. Well, there was no way I was traipsing to Itaewon that early, but I did arrive around 9:00, about the end of the first quarter.

I ordered the breakfast special: 12,500 W for bacon, sausage, eggs, potatoes, toast and coffee, and got a great stool at the last available table, as two suits had to leave for work.

It quickly became evident that the crowd at 3 Alley was tilted for the Cardinals about 70-30. Indeed, the whole atmosphere of the place changed on the last play of the half, when Arizona, rather than settling for a field goal, decided to go for it, and handed an interception to the strongest defense in the league--which James Harrison ran back for a TD in the longest play in Superbowl history. You could have heard a pin drop, until someone started a "Let's Go, Steelers, F*ck you!" chant. Me, I just laughed.

During Bruce Springsteen's halftime show, everyone seemed very appreciative--though the young Korean waiter asked me if the singer was Tom Jones. The Cardinal fans were less appreciative of the zebras' efforts, loudly complaining at each flag. Well, each flag that went against red. Which was, admittedly, most of them.

I didn't really have a dog in this hunt, but if my Dolphins aren't there, I'll root for the AFC team--unless it's the Bills, who have forfeited their right to go to the Big Game, IMHO. Or the Patriots last year, because I didn't want to see the Tuna's perfect season get topped.

Well, last year was a great one, but I think this was even better--the Cards fans in 3 Alley went crazy when they took the lead, but I knew there was too much time left to begin celebrating. Of course, I was figuring on an overtime, but that toes-down catch by Santonio Holmes was the way a Superbowl should be won and lost.

Budae Jjigae in Mok-dong

Budae-jjigae is an ancient Korean traditional food dating all the way back to the 1950s. Okay, so it's not ancient, but it is traditional. It's also really yummy.

During the lean war years and after, meat was hard to come by, so many Seoulites augmented their diets with SPAM, sausage, hot dogs and whatever else they could scrounge from the US Army bases; together with gochujang (red pepper paste), vegetables in season, beans, ramyeon noodles or rice, it's all piled into a hot pot and cooked up in some vegetable stock.

Budae-jjigae literally means "army base stew" and is also called Johnson-tang. It should be fairly easy to replicate at home; there is a recipe here. But if you don't have any particular thing, just go ahead without--SPAM is probably the only absolute essential (never thought I'd see that in print, much less write it myself). While it arose from needful times, today, I went with Karen to a nice restaurant in the basement of the CBS building in Mok-dong to give it a shot.

The restaurant was busy, with numerous middle-class families sitting around the hot pot, paying good money to eat what was survival food for their grandparents.

Step 1: set the jjigae on to cook. Ours had the usual suspects, plus potatoes, mushrooms and salami; unlike a western stew, you don't cook it for hours to let the flavors meld, you just get everything cooked through.


Step 2: The waitress comes back and removes the lid to reveal the finished jjigae.


Step 3: Ladle some into your bowl. With this particular style, you add rice from the standard metal rice bowl. In other styles, the waitress will drop in ramen noodles at just the right point before completion.


Step 4: Repeat.


As you can see, it was seriously delectable.

Good Chicken, Bad Chicken

Met up with Steve yesterday for luggage shopping at Dongdaemun--he is on his way to Italy for three weeks--followed by food and conversation.

Good chicken: This was in one of the thousand stalls that line the walkways around Dongdaemun market. A big plate of stir-fry chicken and vegetables, heavy on the gochujang, served on a plastic plate covered with a plastic bag. With odeng soup and weak barley tea. 10,000 W for two. Totally delicious.


Bad chicken: After more shopping, we succumbed to our thirst at a hof called 33 (Since 1991), nicely appointed in brass and glass. After a beer or four, we decided to try the house specialty, the fried chicken. Served on a fancy metal platter. 13,000 W for two. So overcooked it was practically desiccated.


Not chicken: That's the backpack I bought for 35K. You can see it's actually two backpacks that zip together. It's also got wheels and an extendable handle for rolling. Sweet.