Last year, the Forbidden City celebrated its 600th anniversary. 24 emperors across two dynasties – the Ming and the Qing – called it home, and since the very first day of its construction, this iconic structure has stood as the central axis of Beijing. In fact, given that the grounds are symmetrical, from a birds-eye view, that central axis forms the Chinese character 中 zhōng – 中国的中 zhōng guó de zhōng.

It was long believed that there are 9,999.5 rooms in the Forbidden City, as there are 10,000 rooms in the celestial Palace of Heaven, meaning the number of rooms in the mortal world would be slightly less. However, after a team of experts actually undertook the task of counting all the dwellings, there turned out to be 9,371. Still not too shabby for one Emperor, don’t you think?

Staff spent seven years counting all the exhibits and artefacts, and in doing so, discovered that Emperor Qianlong alone wrote 45,000 poems.

Every palace (殿 diàn) has the clay creatures called 脊兽 jǐ shòu on top of its eaves, which signifies the importance of that structure. With each bearing between one and ten 脊兽 jǐ shòu, throughout the entirety of the Forbidden City, only one has ten – Taihe Palace (太和殿 tài hé diàn) – where various ceremonies took place over the years, albeit a select few.

If you’re Chinese, then you’re probably familiar with the popular documentary, 我在故宫修文物 (wǒ zài gù gōng xiū wén wù) Masters in Forbidden City, which details how staff – most of whom graduated from top art universities in China – restore many of the fixtures and features inside the palatial complex, from wooden articles and ceramics to timepieces, calligraphy, and textiles. At its heart, the documentary reveals just how much work and creativity are required to keep things looking as they did 600 years ago. For instance, restoring a knife requires three years, while a painting can take upwards of 18. Of the laborious processes, Mr. Wang, the foreman of timepiece restoration explains, “If you really can’t sit still [for these jobs], then you need to find a new one.”

Apart from the majestic and grandiose buildings, there’s also a delightful community of cats at the Forbidden City, who have prowled its corners and rooftops since the beginning. People believe these cats are the descendants of royal cats kept by the nobility who once called the palace home, and who are charged with protecting the fragile wooden furniture and other exhibits from mischievous mice.  Every day, cat lovers from all over China donate food, so they never go hungry. What’s more, these cats also have names like 鳌拜 Áo bài, 乌拉那拉. 二花 Wū lā nà lā èr huā. Keep an eye out for these “Forbidden” felines on your next visit!

Lastly, there’s a gigantic water vat in front of the palace that was meant to prevent fires. An interesting but regrettable story is that when the Eight-Nation Alliance invaded the Forbidden City, they intended to carry the Taiping water vat with them, however, because it was too heavy to move, they used knives to scratch out the gold covering its surface. As such, today, the Taiping water vat is scratched and scarred with the memories of this unfortunate period in history.

I once read an article that seems to grow truer and truer the older I get. It said that there have always been two Forbidden Cities, one political and one historical. The latter belongs to the Chinese people and, for all intents and purposes, it’s their Forbidden City. It’s a city that possesses Chinese values. It’s more than a symbolic scenic spot, it’s the continuation and inheritance of Chinese culture.

KEEP READING: The Woman, the Myth, the Legend Behind the Great Wall

Images: Rachel Bu, Pexels

Beijing offers several markets with a mind-boggling variety of goods, and inevitably there will come a day when you’re looking for souvenirs for the trip back home. Here is our pick of the best places to pick up something unique. As for everything is negotiable with vendors in many Chinese markets, remember to double-check what you are buying, and haggle for the best deal. 

Qianmen Dashilan’r Street 前门大栅栏（大拾栏儿）Qiánmén Dàshílànr
“大栅栏” is pronounced as dàzhàlán, but local people called it dàshílànr. Famous for its stores with an antique flavor, Qianmen Dashilan’r has one of the most ancient and distinctive commercial streets in Beijing with a history of more than 500 years. You can find all of those Beijing time-honored brands: shoes from Neiliansheng, silk fabric at Ruifuxiang, and hats from Majuyuan.

Qianmen, Xicheng District. 西城区前门 （6310 9680, nearest subway station: Line 2 Qianmen）

Wudaoying Hutong 五道营胡同 Wúdàoyíng hútóng
Compared to Nanluoguxiang, Wudaoying Hutong is a must visit for a quieter and more relaxing affair. It has a great combination of modern and yet authentic, with plenty of ceramic shops, some industrial style cafes, and a few boutiques selling unique clothes, earrings, and handicrafts. It’s not a big shopping street, but definitely worth a visit to explore these old hutongs and find some gifts.

Wudaoying Hutong, Andingmen, Dongcheng District. 东城区安定门五道营胡同 （nearest subway station: Line 5 Yonghegong）

Nanluoguxiang 南锣鼓巷 Nánluógǔxiàng
With small and well preserved hutongs with a history of over 700 years dating back to Yuan Dynasty in 13th and 14th century, Nanluoguxiang has become the one of the most touristy areas in downtown Beijing. You can find a lot of interesting shops offering different kinds of snacks, Jewelry, handicrafts designed by local artists, trendy T-shirts that you can add every image on. The downside of it is you might need to deal with the crowd and long line.

Nanluoguxiang, Dongcheng District. 东城区南锣鼓巷 （nearest subway station: Line 6 Nanluoguxiang）

Wangfujing Shopping Street 王府井购物街 Wángfǔjǐng gòuwùjiē
Wangfujing is one of the busiest commercial and modern streets in Beijing with many local and international shopping malls such as Gongmei Mansion, Sun Dong An Plaza, and Malls at Oriental Plaza. It’s a shopper’s paradise where you can find paintings, local art, and unique crafts from all over China.

Wangfujing Street, Dongcheng District. 东城区王府井大街 （nearest subway station: Line 1 Wangfujing）

Panjiayuan Antiques Market 潘家园旧货市场 pānjiāyuán jiùhuò shìchǎng
First opening in 1992 as a roadside showcase, Panjiayuan Antiques Market, as one of the oldest, biggest, and best-known markets in Beijing, has witnessed many changes in collectibles and craftsmanship here. This market offers all kinds of vintage finds and reproductions: Chinese calligraphy, painting, porcelain vases, old communist propaganda posters, and ancient furniture. 

Mon-Fri 8.30am-9pm, Sat 4.30am-9pm, Sun 6am-9pm (afterJul 29, it will close at 7.30pm). Off of Southeast Third Ring Road, West of Panjiayuan Qiao, Chaoyang District 朝阳区潘家园桥西边 (6774 1869, nearest subway station: Line 10 Panjiayuan)

Silk Market  秀水街 xiùshuǐ jiē
Under the framework of “One Belt, One Road”, the Silk Market has been renovated this April, with a few floors added onto the old building. Now it has an upmarket feel, which is reflected in the pricing of their merchandise. You can find almost everything you need, from name-brand clothes and bags to “authentic” Chinese silk. One thing you need to keep it in mind is that it’s unlikely that anything sold at the Silk Market is “real”, and the price is not fixed; the more you haggle, the better price you might get.

Daily 9am-9pm. 8 Xiushui Dongjie, Jianguomenwai Dajie, Chaoyang District 朝阳区建国门外大街秀水东街8号 (5676 7766, nearest subway station: Line 1, YongAnLi)

Pearl Market 红桥市场 hóngqiáo shìchǎng
Smaller than the Silk Market, but you can find many touristy things here to take back home as gifts. As its name suggests, it does sell more pearls than other markets, but you’ll find other touristy souvenirs such as Chinese tchotchkes, beads, clothes, Chinese calligraphy, paintings, and some electronics. If you head up to the fifth floor balcony, you will have an amazing view of the Temple of Heaven. Don’t forget to bargain if necessary.

Daily 10am-7pm. Temple of Heaven, 46 Hongqiao Lu, Dongcheng District 天坛, 东城区红桥路46号 (6713 3354, nearest subway station: Line 5, TianTangDongMen)

 Zhongguancun E-Mall 中关村电子城 Zhōngguāncūn diànzǐchéng
Zhongguancun, also called “China’s Silicon Valley”, is Beijing’s high-tech center with many IT companies based there. The E-Mall sells different brands of computers, notebooks, and components at low prices. You can also find reasonably priced computer repair services. Many stores moved out due to last year’s renovation, but now you can still find a wide range of stores for everything related to electronics. Be aware that many brand products might not be real.

Daily 9am-6pm. 18 Zhongguancun Street, Handian District 海淀区中关村大街18号(8253 6688)

Maliandao Tea City 马连道茶城 Mǎliándào cháchéng
If you or any of your family member is a tea fan, then this place is a great place to get a glimpse into Chinese tea culture. As the largest tea market in northern China, the market specializes in anything associated with tea. You can find many different types of tea with prices ranging from dirt cheap to super expensive, as well as teacups and teapots. Here, some tea shops offer free tea for guests to taste first, and then you can bargain with the owner.

Daily. 8.30am-6pm. 11 Maliandao Road, Xicheng District. 西城区马连道路11号 (6334 2683)

Photos: pexels.

It’s that season again. We’ve all been there. No matter how many years you’ve lived in Beijing, inevitably there will come a day when someone will be visiting you and will want to shop for souvenirs to take home. Or, you’re going on a trip to visit family and friends and need to prepare “authentic China gifts”. Whichever the case, you should know where to go for your touristy needs.

Unfortunately for us, the Beijing government has been cracking down on markets because of all the wonderful fake stuff they used to sell.  In a few years, we might only be able to buy touristy things from museum boutiques and Page One—the horror!  For now, we still have these trusty markets:

Silk (Street) Market  秀水街 xiù shuǐ jiē
You might have heard that the Silk Market used to be an actual “street” (outdoors), but now it’s just a big department store. At the moment, it is the best place to go for touristy things—a fact you should keep in mind when planning your trip, as it’ll be crowded with tourist groups.

The Silk Market should have everything you need, from leather Diesel jackets to “authentic” Chinese silk.  There are plenty of vendors who sell the traditional touristy things, but also suitcases, shoes, purses, and even electronics. Keep in mind that it’s unlikely that anything sold at the Silk Market is “real” (in terms of brand merchandise), so bargaining is recommended.

The Silk Market is also a good place to go if you need to shop for “Western sizes” and prefer trying things on in person.

Daily 9am-9pm. 8 Xiushui Dongjie, Jianguomenwai Dajie, Chaoyang District 朝阳区建国门外大街秀水东街8号 (nearest subway station: Line 1, YongAnLi)

Pearl Market 红桥市场 hóng qiáo shì chǎng
The Pearl Market is significantly smaller than the Silk Market, and is more comparable to the old Yashow market (though not nearly as good).  True to its name, it does showcase more pearls than other markets, but also features a variety of other touristy items. It does not have as many “knock-off” products as the Silk Market does, but it has its share of fake purses, electronics, and some shoes/clothes. Do remember to bargain.
Daily 9.30am-7pm. Temple of Heaven, 46 Hongqiao Lu, Chongwen District 天坛, 崇文区红桥路46号 (nearest subway station: Line 5, TianTangDongMen)

Alien Street Market 老番街市场 lǎo fān jiē shìchǎng
Also known as the Russian market (if asking in Chinese, you’ll find it better if you ask for yǎ bǎo lù de eluósī shìchǎng). The address below is for just one mall, the pleasingly-named “Alien Market”, but the entire area is a Russian town and serves as a collection of markets for Russian merchants, so the mall next to “Alien Market” as well as the one by McDonalds are also very popular shopping spots. The three markets sell electronics, a variety of teas, cosmetics, clothes, shoes, bags, suitcases, etc. Quality (all knock offs) and prices vary, and clearance items are clearly marked outside each booth. If you keep walking down Yabao Lu, you’ll find entire buildings filled with fashion wholesale boutiques, and there’s even one with only children’s clothes (walk towards Jianguomen)!

Bargaining at Russian markets might not go as smoothly if you’re not a Russian speaker, but it can be a more pleasant experience if you’re not a fan of bargaining in general.  Store owners are more relaxed, there are curtains where you can bargain in private, and the experience overall is very hushed and peaceful (compared to Chinese markets).  If you haven’t been yet, it’s a good idea to visit before the Beijing government succeeds in shutting down yet another wholesale market.
Laofanjie Shichang, Yabao Lu (south of Fulllink Plaza), Chaoyang District日坛公园雅宝路, 朝阳区雅宝路 (nearest subway station: Line 2/6, Chaoyangmen)

Panjiayuan Antique Market 潘家园旧货市场 pān jiāyuán jiù huò shìchǎng
Panjiayuan is an interesting market even for locals because it has many sections to it, and as a result, the selection can change from week to week.  The best time to visit Panjiayuan is on the weekend, early in the morning on a nice day out when all the vendors are out and the streets leading to Panjiayuan are lined with peddlers selling everything from coconuts to touristy wares.  The actual market has store vendors that sell antiques and minority handicrafts, such as furniture, Buddhist statues, etc. There are booth vendors who sell art: e.g. oil and ink paintings, pottery, beaded jewelry, etc. There’s a second-hand book sale section with old communist propaganda posters, art books, and even comic books (yes, they sell English books too). Finally, there’s a flea market section where anyone (non-vendors) can go and sell anything they want.

A few blocks from Panjiayuan Antique Market is the infamous Glasses Market, where one can get a set of glasses (with lenses) for as little as RMB 200 (maybe even less). There are also legit art markets (genuine and thus expensive) nearby for serious art collectors.
Mon-Fri 8.30am-6pm, Sat-Sun 4.30am-6pm. Off of Southeast Third Ring Road, West of Panjiayuan Qiao, Chaoyang District 朝阳区潘家园桥西边 (nearest subway station: Line 10 Panjiayuan)

Photos: Jorge Cortell, Stephen Walli, Boff, Gareth Owens, H_H_Photography, 

For someone who has lived in Beijing for over five years, my knowledge of contemporary Chinese history is woefully lacking. Thus, it was with but a passing familiarity with the name “Song Qingling” that I visited the former residence of one of the most powerful women in Chinese history a few weekends ago.

Located near the northwest tip of Shichahai, this grand old mansion served as the final abode of Song Qingling (1893-1981), the second wife of Republican leader Sun Zhongshan (Sun Yat-sen) and the second of the three famous Song sisters.

A note on spelling: Song Qingling’s name often appears as “Soong Ching-ling” in English media after the Wade-Giles romanization that was common at the time, but for consistency’s sake I’ll be sticking to pinyin and including alternative names in parentheses.

By all accounts, Song Qingling led a singular and tumultuous life. She was the second of six children born to Song Jiashu (Charlie Soong), a US-educated businessman and missionary, and Ni Guizhen (Ni Kwei-tseng), a member of a religious Chinese family that counted a prominent Ming Dynasty mathematician among its ancestors.

Song Qingling and her sisters, Ailing and Meiling, were all educated at Wesleyan College in Macon, Georgia. At the exhibition hall within the compound, there’s a yearbook picture of Song in the Wesleyan tennis club. Her university diploma uses her Christian name: “Rosamonde Chung-ling Soong.”

At age 22, Song married the much older Sun Zhongshan (who was a close friend of her father’s) despite fierce opposition from her parents. The rift was so great that when Song’s father died in 1918, neither Sun nor other members of the Kuomintang (KMT) publicly mourned his death.

Song’s sisters, Song Ailing and Song Meiling, went on to marry prominent banker and politician Kong Xiangxi (H.H. Kung) and Republic leader Jiang Jieshi (Chiang Kai-shek) respectively.

After Song Qingling’s marriage, she traveled extensively with her husband until his death in 1925 and continued to engage in political activities through to the Second Sino-Japanese War.

A second rift with her family occurred when Song shifted her support to the Communists during the Chinese Civil War (1946-1950).

After the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949, Song held several political offices, including vice-chairman of the Central People’s Government, vice-chairman of the newly-formed National People’s Congress (NPC), and vice president of the PRC.

During the Cultural Revolution (1966-1976), Song came under fire from the Red Guards; in one incident, her parents’ grave marker was toppled over and their bodies exposed.

After the Cultural Revolution, Song largely retired from public view but continued to write about children’s welfare issues. Less than two weeks before her death, she was named Honorary Chairwoman of the PRC – to this day the only person to ever hold this title.

The mansion itself sits on the site of a former imperial garden once used by princes and nobles of the Qing Dynasty. Former residents include Prince Chun Yixuan, the father of the Guangxu Emperor, and Zaifeng, the father of Puyi (the Last Emperor).

The two-story mansion was added by a Greek captain in the 1920s. At the suggestion of Premier Zhou Enlai, Song Qingling moved into the residence in 1963.

What struck me about Song Qingling’s residence is how modest and functional the furnishings were. Song often worked late into the night at the desk in her bedroom and treasured her library; upon her death, she willed the books to a close friend, who promptly donated them back to the memorial.

Within the house, all the displays are in English and Chinese.

On the grounds, there’s also a separate hall containing exhibits relating to Song’s life and work, including photos from her Wesleyan years, her mother’s wedding robes, and the Soviet-made car she used to ride in.

The children’s playground and inner gardens were off-limits due to renovation work. The renovations are scheduled to be completed on May 21, 2016; until then, visitors can only enter from the west gate.

More pictures:

Former Residence of Soong Ching-Ling 宋庆龄故居
RMB 20. Daily 9.30am-5.30pm. 46 North Shore of Houhai Lake, Xicheng District (6404 4205) 西城区后海北沿西端46号

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer specializing in parenting, education, travel, environment, and culture. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, Midnight Poutine, Rover Arts, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Photos: Sijia Chen

Last Friday was a perfect spring day in Beijing, so I couldn’t help but shirk work for a few hours to cross another item off my bucket list: Prince Gong Mansion, an imperial residence constructed by the most famous corrupt official in Chinese history.

Dodging tour buses and throngs of Chinese visitors, I cycled along Xi’anmen Dajie and turned north on Sanzuoqiao Hutong, a street I remembered well from the Ghost Tour I went on with Newman Tours three years ago. The entrance to Prince Gong Mansion can be found at the end of Sanzuoqiao, after a slight left.

I heard the crowds before I saw them: a sea of Chinese dialects swirling with the blare of megaphones and restaurants hawking zhajiang noodles. Upon entering the Prince Gong Mansion compound, it took me a minute to spot the ticket window; it was in the corner near the westernmost wall. Thankfully, there were separate admission lines for tour groups and individuals.

Prince Gong Mansion is divided into two parts: the residences and the garden. The six main residential halls are arranged roughly like a grid and separated from the garden by the largest building in the compound: the two-story, 160m-long Houzhao Lou (后罩楼).

The mansions were originally constructed in 1777 for Heshen, a court official in the employ of the Qianlong Emperor. He rose swiftly through the ranks, further cementing his position with the marriage of his son and one of the emperor’s daughters in 1790.

Heshen’s hold on power provided him with unparalleled freedom, and soon he engaged in open corruption. His misdeeds included nepotism, embezzling taxes, extending military campaigns to steal public funds, and doing away with official posts.

Heshen got his comeuppance in 1799, when the Jiaqing Emperor – the successor to the Qianlong Emperor – had him executed for corruption. The mansion was given to Prince Qing, the youngest son of the Qianlong Emperor. Fifty-two years later, the Xianfeng Emperor gave the residence to his brother, Prince Gong, whom it is now named after.

Before the site became protected in the 1980s, it was converted into a Catholic university by the Benedictines in the 1920s and used as an air conditioning factory during the Cultural Revolution.

Since 2005, RMB 200 million has been poured into renovating the buildings and gardens. In 2008, the site reopened to the public in its current form during the Beijing Summer Olympics.

Though I had a rough itinerary worked out for the visit, I ended up improvising because of all the tour groups. April 1 marked the beginning of the busy season, so I’d recommend visiting on a weekday morning before it gets too packed; weekends are out of the question, especially if you have young children.

The residential buildings were well-maintained but a bit sterile; I much preferred the gardens. However, some people might be interested in the exhibition on the history of Prince Gong Mansion and the Qing Dynasty; another hall contained contemporary Chinese art depicting the performing arts.

The main entrance to the gardens is through a stone archway called Xiyang Gate. Before going through, look back towards Houzhao Lou; it reportedly has 88 windows divided evenly between the first and second floors. Notice that the 44 windows on the second floor are all different from each other – a rarity in imperial architecture.

One of the first features you’ll see is Bat Pond, which is said to be in the shape of a bat. I don’t see it, but I suspect this is classic overreaching since the Chinese character for “bat” (fu) is a homonym for good fortune.

Slightly off to the right, there’s a charming little peony garden past a bamboo grove. Though most of the flowers were already starting to wilt, a few peony bushes were still in full bloom. I waited my turn as one young woman spent five whole minutes maneuvering a particularly lush blossom into place for a selfie.

Just past the peony garden is Miyun Cave, which contains a famous 8m-tall stele bearing an inscription of the character 福 (fu) by the Kangxi Emperor. I opted not to see it because the queue looked like this:

Instead, I walked up to the pavilion perched over the cave, accessible through two walkways located on either side of the hill. The view wasn’t anything spectacular, but I felt pretty smug looking down at the winding lines.

Strolling around the lake on the western side of the gardens was my favorite part of the visit. There were plenty of shaded areas to sit in, including the pavilion in the middle of the lake. It was an ideal place to relax and people watch.

In total, I’d recommend setting aside two to three hours for Prince Gong Mansion. For those who prefer a more structured visit, I found this great itinerary on Baidu Images. It hits all the main residential buildings, through the gardens, and around the lake.

I didn’t use them, but there were public restrooms scattered throughout the compound. Snacks and cold drinks are available onsite at slightly marked up prices. Generally, Prince Gong Mansion is stroller-friendly but requires going up and down the occasional steps or lifting the stroller over a threshold. Be sure to use sun protection, wear walking shoes, and bring plenty of water.

Prince Gong Mansion 恭王府
RMB 40 (admission only), RMB 70 (admission with Chinese-speaking tour guide), free for kids under 1.2m. Daily 8am-6.30pm (Apr 1-Oct 31), tickets sold until 5pm. 17 Qianhai Xijie, Shichahai, Xicheng District (8328 8149) 西城区什刹海前海西街17号

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer specializing in parenting, education, travel, environment, and culture. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, Midnight Poutine, Rover Arts, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Photos: Sijia Chen

In working through my Beijing bucket list, I often forget there are places worth seeing right in my own backyard. A friend recently inspired me to visit Dongyue Temple, a Yuan Dynasty-era Taoist temple located in the heart of Chaoyangmen.

I dropped by on a beautiful spring afternoon and was rewarded with serene courtyards, stately old scholar trees, a repository of stone tablets spanning different eras, and hundreds of plaster statues depicting the 76 departments of the Taoist supernatural world – some macabre, many hilarious, and all fascinating in their variety and inadvertent campiness.

According to The Search for a Vanishing Beijing: A Guide to China’s Capital Through the Ages (2008), the cubicles depict scenes of reward and punishment overseen by Taoist deities who double as functionaries within this supernatural bureaucracy.

“The departments span everything: wealth, longevity, health, betrayal, poisoning, lust, cruelty to animals, plagues, boils, suicide, and the suppression of schemes,” writes author M.A. Aldrich.

Wryly, he muses that the deities do not have the authority to issue a ruling themselves; instead, the final verdict must be ratified by an “approval department” within the Taoist bureaucracy. In China, it seems, even the gods cannot escape red tape.

Dedicated to the God of Taishan – the most important of the Five Sacred Mountains of Taoism – the nearly 700-year-old temple is divided into three courtyards anchored by three main structures: Zhandaimen Archway, Daiyue Hall, and Yude Hall.

The first courtyard features a long walkway leading to Daiyue Hall, Daiyue being a synonym for “Taishan.” Two symmetrical structures flank the walkway (just visible in the above photo); they contain massive stone tablets inscribed by Emperors Kangxi and Qianlong.

Daiyue Hall contains a towering statue of the God of Taishan, known in Chinese as Dongyue Dadi (东岳大帝).

The first courtyard also contains 90 stone tablets from the Yuan, Ming, and Qing Dynasties.

The most famous one features an inscription by Yuan Dynasty scholar, painter, calligrapher, and prince Zhao Mengfu (1254-1322). It recounts the life of Zhang Liusun, the founder of Dongyue Temple, as well as milestones in the temple’s history.

In front of the tablet inscribed by Emperor Kangxi, there is a bronze donkey with the head of the horse – translated by the temple as “Bronze Wonder Donkey” – popular with those seeking good health. To heal your affliction, simply rub the corresponding body part on the donkey.

The donkey’s counterpart is the White Jade Horse, the steed of Wenchang. Touching it is said to assure success and safe travels.

Near the entrance is the Longevity Tree, a Chinese scholar tree (槐树 huai shu) believed to be older than Dongyue itself. Due to its age, its trunk has already hollowed out and the tree was singled out for conservation in 2003.

The rooms along the innermost courtyard currently house an exhibition dedicated to the 12 Chinese zodiac signs. Each animal has its own display of antique tableware, tablets, and other objects, but the text is unfortunately only in Chinese.

The courtyard also contains the Scholar Tree, Dongyue Temple’s other sacred tree. It is tied to Wenchang, the Taoist patron god of scholars and writers. In ancient times, applicants to the imperial examinations would visit Dongyue Temple to pray for good results at the Wenchang Pavilion.

All in all, Dongyue Temple provided a welcome break from the hustle and bustle of downtown Beijing. I wouldn’t go out of my way to bring visitors here (unless they have a special taste for bizarre statues), but it’s worth a visit if you happen to be near Chaoyangmen, Gongti, or Ritan.

Public restrooms with squat toilets are available onsite, but there was no toilet paper or soap when I visited. There is no food for sale on or near the premises, but the temple is about a 10-minute walk from U-Town Mall, which has a Burger King and a Starbucks.

Consider yourself warned: Dongyue Temple is not suitable for families with young children. Besides the many statues of demons and monsters, a few of the departments are downright disturbing, depicting scenes of disembowelment, decapitation, and implied animal cruelty. That said, older kids and teens will probably find the poorly-made cartoon violence more laughable than anything else.

Dongyue Temple 东岳庙
RMB 10. Daily 8.30am-4.30pm. 141 Chaoyangmen Waidajie, Chaoyang District (6551 3883) 朝阳区朝阳门外大街141号

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer specializing in parenting, education, travel, environment, and culture. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, Midnight Poutine, Rover Arts, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Photos: Sijia Chen

Memberships and Subscriptions
The long-running Hutong has it all: cooking classes (more on those below), tea tours, cultural experience, events, and more. A general membership costs RMB 200 per year and entitles the holder to 10-25 percent discounts on all Hutong programs and events. After the year is up, the membership can be extended for only RMB 100. If there’s an enthusiastic home cook in your life, consider the culinary membership (RMB 1,500 per year) for up to two people, which includes any six cooking classes. ‘

Several international culture centers also offer memberships. I’m a member of the excellent French Cultural Center’s Médiathèque, a lending library of books, periodicals, and DVDs with a children’s corner. I initially joined the library to keep up my French but have found that the Médiathèque offers a clean, quiet space to work as well. Regular membership costs RMB 240 per year (RMB 120 for students and teachers) or RMB 100 per quarter.

The Cervantes Institute also has a lending library with Spanish-language books and materials. Membership costs RMB 210 per year (half price for students, retirees, and children).

Sidecar Tours
Founded by Frenchman Gael Thoreau, Beijing Sideways specializes in tours of Beijing and the Great Wall by motorcycle sidecar. Options include two-hour, four-hour, and one-day tours of Beijing; a two-hour night tour of Beijing; a one-day tour of the Wild Great Wall; and the deluxe two-day (or 1.5-day) tour with an overnight stay at the Great Wall and a Beijing city tour.

Each motorcycle can take up to two passengers; assuming two people per bike, the two-hour city tour costs RMB 1,100 for the first passenger and RMB 600 for the second while a four-hour city tour costs RMB 1,400 for the first passenger and RMB 900 for the second.

Cooking Classes
Food is one of the best ways to access a country’s culture and history. What better way to spend a frigid winter afternoon than making and eating your own Chinese dishes with friends and family?

The Hutong has a variety of cooking classes featuring Chinese regional cuisines such as Sichuan, Yunnan, and Shanxi as well as specific dishes like xiaolongbao, hand-pulled noodles, and dumplings (RMB 300 per person, RMB 260 for members).

Black Sesame Kitchen also offers lunchtime cooking classes every Wednesday and Sunday from 11am-2pm (RMB 300 per person) out of its hutong location near the Forbidden City.

Closer to town, China Culture Center has a class on dumpling-making and hand-pulled noodles, with private events available for 1-20 people. Regular classes cost RMB 250 for adults and RMB 180 for kids under 12.

Dive the Great Wall
I’m hopelessly biased when it comes to scuba diving. Not only is SinoScuba founder Steven Schwankert a former colleague, he’s also a friend and my dive instructor. My sister and I first dived with him in July of 2013, an experience that eventually led me to Thailand, Indonesia, and the Philippines for further PADI training. Last July, Steven certified me as a Rescue Diver in Puerto Galera, Philippines.

However, Beijing residents don’t need to go far to suit up. Every year, Steven leads scuba diving trips to a submerged section of the Great Wall at the Panjiakou Reservoir. Sure, you won’t see exotic fish or enjoy 60m visibility, but you’ll be joining an exclusive club of people who can say they’ve dived the Great Wall. Prices and dates will be available by the end of the month.

Offbeat Fitness Classes
Crossfit Slash is best-known for, well, CrossFit, but it also offers a rapidly-expanding array of fitness classes from its studio, including aerial silks, poledancing, Irish dancing, aerial hoop, bellydance, and burlesque. RMB 180 per class.

Led by the rock-hard Alona Vostrikova, Alone Pilates offers two unusual fitness classes apart from its signature Pilates: a hula-hoop class focusing on sculpting the butt and “Pilates cardio ballet,” a ballet-inspired class using a barre. Call for prices.

Today happens to be my boyfriend’s birthday; because he’s a foodie, we’ll be celebrating with a home-cooked dinner tonight and a private cooking class at The Hutong on Sunday with friends.

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer specializing in parenting, education, travel, environment, and culture. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, Midnight Poutine, Rover Arts, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Photos: Creative Commons image courtesy of kris krug on Flickr

In a tiny hutong north of Wangfujing lies the former residence of one of Beijing’s most beloved literary figures of the 20th century. The modern cult of playwright, novelist, and satirist Lao She (1899-1966) belies his mysterious suicide after being persecuted by the Red Guards. The preserved courtyard home at 19 Fengfu Hutong was where the writer and his wife, painter Hu Xieqing, raised their four children.

I first heard about the Lao She Museum through Nelly Alix of Beijing by Heart, an independent tour operator whose Literary Revolution Tour stops at the former residence. A couple of weeks ago, I finally stopped by to have a peek.

Heading south on Wangfujing Dajie, we turned right on Dengshikou Xidajie and right again on Fengfu Hutong. The entrance to the Lao She Museum would’ve been easy to miss if not for the identifying plaques.

Upon entering the courtyard, the most striking feature was the pair of persimmon trees that Lao She planted in 1954, prompting his wife to name the residence “Red Persimmon Courtyard” (丹柿小院, danshi xiaoyuan). The trees still flourish today, bearing fruit every fall.

Because most of the displays are in Chinese, it helps to know a bit about Lao She’s life and work before visiting.

Lao She was born Shu Qingchun in 1899 to an impoverished Manchu family in Beijing. When the writer was still a baby, his father – who was a soldier – died in battle with foreign forces during the Boxer Rebellion.

Despite his family often lacking enough money to send him to school, Lao She was admitted to Beijing Normal University and graduated at the age of 19. He taught for several years at different elementary and secondary schools in Beijing and Tianjin.

In 1919, the populist May Fourth Movement cemented his decision to become a writer and document the struggles of a nation emerging from the plague of imperialism.

From 1924 to 1929, Lao She lectured at what is now the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. During this time, he discovered the writing of Charles Dickens, whose style directly influenced Lao She’s first novel, The Philosophy of Lao Zhang (1926).

The museum contains a picture of a blue commemorative plaque outside the house in St. James’ Gardens where Lao She lived from 1925-1928.

Lao She would go on to teach in Singapore and Qingdao from 1930-1937. In 1936, he published one of his most famous works: Camel Xiangzi (骆驼祥子, luotuo xiangzi), also known as Rickshaw Boy.

By then, he had established a reputation for creating satirical works that made vivid use of Beijing vernacular – the everyday language of the people. The prescient Cat Country (1932) was a thinly-veiled science fiction satire that still resonates today. The book was re-released in English two years ago as part of Penguin China’s Modern Classics series.

From 1946-1947, Lao She visited the US on a cultural grant sponsored by the State Department to lecture and oversee the translation of several of his novels.

In 1950, he and Hu Xieqing (whom he married in 1931) moved into the house on Fengfu Hutong. According to a plaque, all of Lao She’s works from 1950-1966 were written here.

The modest displays bring together old photographs, newspaper clippings, literary journals, and early editions of the author’s books to tell the story of Lao She’s life. The calendar in the author’s study is still open to August 24, 1966, the day of his death.

That morning, Lao She was ordered to report to the Beijing Writers’ Association with a sign identifying him as an “active counter-revolutionary.” The day before, he had been rounded up with other intellectuals and brought to the Confucius Temple for a struggle session in which he and 28 other people were made to kneel in front of a bonfire for three hours and then beaten.

Instead of reporting for duty, Lao She walked to Beijing’s Taiping Lake (which no longer exists) and either drowned himself right away or hesitated for a day before committing the final act, according to different sources.

Lao She’s death remains a sensitive topic, especially given his public rehabilitation as “the people’s writer” after the Cultural Revolution. In 2013, Midnight in Peking author Paul French wrote a scathing essay for the LA Review of Books arguing that Lao She should’ve received the Nobel Prize for Literature:

A prize just might have also allowed Lao She to avoid the final controlling gesture he ultimately chose. Surely his suicide by drowning was uncharacteristic of both the writer and his creations, but was characteristic of being on the wrong side of history at a time of madness.

Apart from an old black and white picture of Taiping Lake and the date of Lao She’s death, the museum makes little mention of the author’s untimely end.

The Beijing Bucket List documents the author’s attempts to see as many Beijing landmarks and historic sites as possible before her anticipated departure in the summer of 2016. Click here for the first post on the Poly Art Museum.

Sijia Chen is a contributing editor at beijingkids and a freelance writer who has covered travel, tech, culture, parenting, and the environment. Her work has appeared in Travel + Leisure, The Independent, the Beijinger, Midnight Poutine, and more. Follow her on Twitter at @sijiawrites or email her at sijiachen@beijing-kids.com.

Photos: Sijia Chen