Great Leap Brewery: Beijing's Ellis Island

Trying to explain to my Chinese girlfriend why I refer to the Great Leap Brewery as the “Ellis Island” of Beijing took some time and effort.  First, I had to explain what the hell Ellis Island was, then its impact on American history and immigration, and finally why the Great Leap resembled this famous gateway to America.  Once the analogy made sense, she certainly concurred.  Go to GL on any given night and here languages from all over the world.  Hear English in every accent imaginable and take some time to soak up some internationalism in this famously provincial megacity. 

  

All of this unfolds while lao wei and Chinese scarf down one of the best burgers that I have ever been lucky enough to eat.  That’s right….I said “ever”.  I know…I know, but trust me.  You can find some great hamburgers in China if you just know where to look.  However, the beer is a little lackluster and overpriced, but you can’t have everything. 

Great Leap is one of the first stops for any foreigner “fresh off the boat” from home.  (That is how expatriates refer to newcomers)  It was one of the first places that I went to after arriving in Beijing, and a trip to the GL usually includes at least one fresh-faced, idealistic foreigner who’s ready to experience all China has to offer; after they have one more American-style burger of course.  Though the food is always comforting, the real wonderful part of the experience remains the fact that the other diners don’t stare at me, because they too are likely culturally exhausted lao wei in the Middle Kingdom, looking for a reminder of their homes across the ocean. 

Since the opening of its Sanlitun branch, the restaurant/brewery has gained a cult following among Chinese and a hub-like atmosphere for foreigners.  It is my Chinese girlfriend’s favorite restaurant, so naturally she had her birthday dinner there.  Even foreigners that don’t hail from the west, such as Korean and Japanese expats, use the brewery as their unofficial base of operations.  Sometimes I joke that they’re going to start shuttle services between PEK (Beijing Capital Airport) and the Great Leap.  I should buy a bus and get a Chinese driver’s license and make a killing.  The phenomenon reinforces the idea that in China, all foreigners belong to a single, relatively homogeneous class unto themselves.  Not inferior or superior in anyway, just different.  There are Chinese and foreigners and not much in between.   

The Chinese wait staff specializes in the dialect of Chinglish spoken by tourists and expats trying to master the linguistic difficulties of Mandarin.  Long story short, they all have the patience of Job.  Imagine a bunch of picky foreigners yelling, “Wo bu yao pickle,” at you all day long.  I’d lose it.  And I must say that it is nice to go to a restaurant and not have to yell, “fuian,” to get a waiter to get off their cellphone and pay attention to me.  So comps to the GL for that. 

One of my favorite jokes to make is that a police raid at the Great Leap would get half the illegal foreigners living in Beijing, and this isn't far from the truth.  In the choppy waters of Beijing, sometimes it’s nice to have an international port of call that helps fresh off the boat lao wei to adjust to their new home.  Most will just have their passports stamped and visas checked, but others at the GL are going through the naturalization process just like Ellis Island’s immigrants of yesteryear.            

The Mansions

My roommate will undertake that wonderful expatriate pilgrimage known as the “visa run” this weekend.  Chinese visas almost always feature a stipulation that the foreign visitor must leave the country after a certain number of days.  Once the foreigner crosses the border, they are free to reenter China and the countdown starts again.  So basically, if you have a one year visa with a 90 day limit, you must leave China every 90 days and then reenter the country.  You can literally just walk across the border, have your passport stamped, and reenter the country without even waiting, all in one afternoon.  If it sounds stupid, pointless, and confusing….that is because it is.  However, it makes it possible for foreigners to qualify for an excessive amount of vacation days, and I am definitely okay with this. 

The most popular destination for expatriate visa runs is the former British colony of Hong Kong.  I know what you are thinking.  “But Trevor, Hong Kong is part of China now.  Why is it considered a foreign country?  Shouldn’t you have to go to Mongolia or Korea to be considered outside of China?”  Don’t question the logic here folks, because Hong Kong is great.  Hopefully it will remain this way after 2047, when Beijing can “officially” alter Hong Kong’s way of life, but I wouldn’t bet on that horse.  But I digress; look for more on this subject in future posts.  My roommate asked me if I had any recommendations for sightseeing and places to stay.  My answer to both was the same; Chungking Mansions. 

First Floor Bazaar

Quite possibly the world’s most famous and lovable ghetto, Chungking Mansions is a 17 story deathtrap on Nathan Road in Kowloon across the bay from Hong Kong Island.  The Economist basically hit the nail on the head when it labeled Chungking Mansions as the real-life equivalent of the Mos Eisley cantina bar from Star Wars.  No trip to Hong Kong would be complete without a visit to the Mansions.  Contained in its walls are people from all over the world, speaking every language imaginable, and living, sleeping, and working within the aging confines of this low rent, high rise slum.  

The Mansions are known for specie (gold and silver) smuggling.  Not to be confused with species smuggling. 

 

I certainly don’t mean to create a negative image of Chungking Mansions by using the world slum to describe it either.  If I was going to live in Hong Kong, the Mansions would be my first choice of accommodation, no matter what kind of budget I had.  Made famous by films, such as Chungking Express and Bloodsport, it embodies the globalized world.  Taking a step inside the carnival-like bazar on the ground floor and not having someone offer to sell you a fake Rolex is simply impossible.  And honestly, who can’t use another fake Rolex?  Many of the travelers staying in the building’s cramped (I am talking closet sized here) youth hostels are thrill seeking, broke tourists like me.  Looking for cheap accommodation and willing to sacrifice fire safety for chance to be in the “middle” of the world’s most exciting city.  The building’s exposed wiring and lack of sunlight go a long way to facilitate the idea the Mansions is a world unto itself, not governed by any external force.

The building's dilapidated facade

This metaphor certainly extends to Hong Kong as a whole.  After reverting to Chinese authority in 1997, the former Crown Colony remains resistant to encroachment from Beijing.  I myself witnessed this year’s joint “Return British Sovereignty” (yeah, it’s a thing.  I was shocked too) and “Autonomy Movement” protest on January 1st.  And with Beijing’s crackdown on freedom of the press in Hong Kong, it is little wonder why the lawless, freewheeling atmosphere of the Mansions has become a symbol for the city over the years.   

One of the building's inner courtyards.   

     

You simply have to love the irony.  In a city synonymous with wealth, extravagance, and the rich/famous, the most exciting and interesting place just happens to be a ghetto.  And why not?  For every person with an interesting story to tell, living in a bungalow on Victoria Peak, Chungking Mansions has ten.  Albeit, in much more unsafe and cramped conditions. 

Not exactly up to "code', but whatever

Spacious Accommodations

It didn’t take long for the Mansions to work its way onto my roommate’s itinerary, and it is perfectly understandable why.  A trip to Hong Kong just isn’t complete without a visit to Chungking. 

Truly a city within a city                         

Trainspotting

Someone put in a request for a post about the Beijing subway system.  In keeping with the tradition of the Beijing subway, I decided to perpetually delay the post until now and then overcrowd it with meaningless opinion.  I don’t hide my contempt for the Beijing metro very well.  You can tell a lot about a city by its mass transit lines.  For example, New York’s system is brilliantly designed and executed, but terribly maintained, and Chicago’s has so much character, but leaves massive sections of west and south Chicago untouched.  Beijing’s shows the world how quickly the Chinese like to build things without really thinking about the future. 

Back in the day as a young, idealistic Hoosier, I loved visiting cities with rapid transit systems.  The idea of reading a book during my commute seemed like a wonderful alternative to spending time alone behind the wheel.  New York, London, Chicago, and Paris represented opportunities for more centralized living that didn’t require four wheels, a driver’s license, and expensive trips to the gas station.  Beijing turned this dream into a nightmare. 

Beijing Subway 2013

Alright, I am over exaggerating a little.  There are a lot of great things about living in this city.  However, the subway certainly doesn’t make the list.  As a result, the rest of this post will come off a little negative.  For one, the system is massive and constantly expanding.  Beijing added several new stations just last month, extending Line 8 into the center of the city.  Line 10 alone features 42 stations and is the world’s largest subway loop.  Line 14, stretching from the city’s southwest corner to Wangjing in the north east, is expected to be completed in the near future. 

All of these lines and stations should make zipping around the city a breeze, unless you want to go in a direction that isn’t east-west or north-south.  As of yet, the Beijing metro doesn’t have any lines crisscrossing the city, leading commuters to make multiple transfers at already crowded stations. 

In terms of ridership, Beijing now ranks as the second most ridden subway system in the world in terms of number of passenger trips, behind Seoul.  A very impressive feat considering the Seoul subway has much large trains with more cars per train.  As a result, the Beijing subway feels infinitely more crowded than its companion in the ROK’s capital.

Beijing Subway 2008

I am no engineer, but whoever designed the thing was definitely looking to cut some corners.  No express lines, malfunctioning ticket machines, and security checks make sure that ever commute is an unhappy one.  That’s right folks; you have to go through an airport security check every time you ride the subway here.  However, the “thoroughness” (I use this term very, very loosely) of the check ironically leaves with an insecure feeling.  I hold the belief that these bag scanning machines only exist to control traffic flow and keep people employed.  Refuse to submit to the security check, and they’ll simply let you walk on through.  (I haven’t done this, but I see people do it all the time).       

The metro does possess a redeeming quality.  Some of the monitors in the stations and trains show cartoons.  Most are safety videos where the characters get into some unsafe situations.  They can be funny, both intentionally and unintentionally.  The poor production values go a long way for comedic effect.  The best part of the subway is the episodes of Shaun the Sheep they sometimes play on Line 5.  As you might guess, Shaun is a sheep who lives on a farm with a group of other animals.  It’s made by the same people who brought us Wallace and Gromit.  Let’s just say I have missed a few trains because I couldn’t stop watching Shaun’s Claymation shenanigans.  I like the sheepdog the best.  His hat is legit.  Whenever my commute becomes too stressful, I take a cue from the farmer in Shaun the Sheep and just pretend that I am oblivious to everything around me.  Another important life lesson learned from children’s cartoons.     

Priceless Comedy Gold