Today, I realized that I never wrote about seeing Mao’s body in Tiananmen Square. It certainly was a trip highlight -- in a totally creepy way -- to see Lenin’s waxy figure in Red Square and then finish our trip with another corpse in Beijing.
The thing that I guess I never realized is that countries actually preserve the bodies of their revered leaders. I mean, I guess it’s kind of a modern-day phenomenon. I don’t think that it was probably possible, scientifically, to preserve bodies so well until quite recently. Mummies are the best attempt to do this and who knows how they looked 50 or 25 years out.
The preservation of Lenin’s body is mired in mystery and controversy and it is even rumored that it’s not his body on display but a wax figure. To be honest, Mao’s body looked faker than Lenin’s, but they both were totally weird. Maybe the thing that made Lenin’s body look more “real” was the fact that we could see his hands, whereas with Mao’s body it was just his head. Both were decked out in finery: Lenin in a nice suit and Mao in a military-like uniform.
In Russia, we were ushered in two at a time (I guess if you’re alone, you’re ushered in alone) and, as we entered the mausoleum, a Russian soldier who pointed to his left promptly shushed us. We followed his direction until we came to another Russian soldier who pointed to his left, and so on and so forth. This probably went on for about seven turns and seven different soldiers, all in dimly lit corridors and stairways. When we finally got to Lenin, there was a strange, low light shining on his body, which was placed in a glass box.
For a few moments – ten seconds, max – it was just Rusel, Lenin, and I. We were then motioned on by yet another Russian guard and the same process that had happened before, in reverse, took place until we exited back into the cold Russian winter.
Viewing Mao’s body was a completely different experience and ultimately, it says a lot about the differences between the two countries. We got to the mausoleum at about 11:20 a.m. and it closed at 11:30 so we were cutting it close. The actual building was about ten times the size of Lenin’s, as was Tiananmen Square. The long line outside was crowded with Chinese tourists – we were the only Westerners.
As with Lenin, security was extremely tight at Mao’s memorial. We had to check our bags and cameras and, as we were running late, we didn’t know where to go or what to do. A Chinese man, whom we mistook for an actual employee at the mausoleum, offered to “help” us figure out the entire system in exchange for 50 yuan – about $6. In the end, the mausoleum was free to visit and he did really help us so it was probably worth it. Had he not assisted us we may not have made it in time.
After we hurriedly checked our bags across the street from the building and ran back to the line, we were pretty quickly ushered up the huge stairs with a big group of other tourists. We entered a large room with high-vaulted ceilings and a statue of Mao sitting in a chair (perhaps this is why he’s called ‘The Chairman’?) in front of a huge, tacky mural of mountains. In front of the statue were hundreds of flowers left by previous visitors.
Unlike Lenin, where it was only the two of us, this time two huge lines were formed in their outer area and the foot traffic just flowed into one huge room behind this one. Before we knew it, we were staring at Mao’s body – with about one hundred other people. And then, we were gone.
The experience was definitely a shared one. A baby in front of us was crying and someone’s cell phone went off behind us. Everyone was trying to be quiet, but there was an excited buzz in the room as we actually walked by the body, which was also enclosed in glass. It was evident that Mao was just as respected as Lenin – if not more so – but this experience was more communal.
In the end, that’s probably what I liked so much about China. Today, as we were through the French Concession’s narrow back alleyways, it was evident that so much of China’s space is shared space and there seems to be a totally different mentality about identity and relationship. It’s more like Bali, in a way. Here, people are literally living on top of each other and I get the feeling that they’re happy to do it that way and probably even prefer it.
It got me thinking about New York City as well, where people live in a similar manner. But it’s different. Here, people’s doors and windows are open and friends stop by to chat, play cards, drink tea. In New York City, once you get home the door is locked and the city is left behind. Loneliness seems to be more of a hallmark of New York City, whereas here more value seems to be placed on shared experiences.
But all that is changing in Shanghai and perhaps other places in China as well. Loyal and well-read reader Julie sent me some information today about the demolition of Shanghai’s traditional neighborhoods to make way for new apartment complexes and buildings (read more about it here). I do get the feeling that China is in a current state of rapid change – which is exciting and sad at the same time.
We’ve had such a great time here and I have really fallen for the people here who have been so quick to smile and lend a helping hand. I wish them the best in this transformation, although my sentiment is slightly bittersweet because I actually like it just the way it is right now.














