Happy New Year! Over the holidays lots of folks asked me why I hadn’t written about the trip Bonnie and I took to China last fall. Truth is, by the time I got around to writing about it we were out of Letters issues for the year. So here goes.

We planned a trip to China.

Insane as it sounds, on two occasions, people asked if we were going there to adopt a baby. Hah! That ship sailed a long time ago. We can hardly manage dogs.

But we went on a thoroughly enlightening and extraordinary tour. In fact, it was life-changing because it altered my thinking. Now, hearing about China on the news, I have different pictures in my mind, different feelings. I’m more hopeful about the future, actually. And I think the future is Asia.

Some quick impressions:

History. Seeing 2000 year old structures, sculptures and artifacts is humbling. Gee, Paul Revere did not invent silver. From the Forbidden City (and its stunning buildings to house Emperors, Administrators, Concubines, Eunuchs and all) to the Terra-Cotta Warriors (8,000 life-size statues of men and horses, which archeologists found guarding an emperor’s tomb) we gaped and gasped.

As for The Great Wall, from afar it’s majestic, powerful, and dramatic. I must admit, when we got to where it was accessible for climbing (ergo a tourist hotspot) I felt I could have been at an Epcot’s Great Wall replica. Amid masses of camera-carrying tourists, vendors hawked "I Climbed the Wall" T-shirts.

But the climb turned out to be really strenuous and the Wall, a fortification stretching over 4,000 miles, is something I never thought I’d see. The first of the walls (every dynasty had their own or added to one) was built in 20 years, using human labor alone.

Why should adding a lane on Rte One take two years?

I always thought Chinese artists were bad at drawing mountains, making them too pointy. But no, along the Li River, the scenery really looks like that, with weirdly peaked limestone hills.

Chinese food. Okay, with the exception of one or two great meals, Chinese food is better here. We really weren’t offered anything too scary, but lunches and dinners at the tourist-approved restaurants and hotels were mostly bland and boring. I perfected my chopstick technique but have lost my taste for any food requiring their use. Perhaps this weekend I’ll get to Confucius, which has exquisite, non-bland Chinese food.

But I did eat Peking Duck in Beijing (which used to be called Peking) and not many people can say that.

One of our best meals was on a tour where we took a bicycle rickshaw (oh that poor guy) into the Hutong, or old town Beijing, and a local family cooked us lunch. That was terrific and we got to see their home and courtyard, which combined history (tiny rooms, coal heat, concrete walls) and modernity (TV, computer and fridge). We loved their dog—a Pekinese, of course.

Daily life. As our guide said, it’s no longer Red China, but Pink China, with rampant Capitalism. A Beijing or Shanghai street has everything from Gucci and Burberry to government owned Friendship stores selling jade, T-shirts and reasonably priced clothing. There are big grocery chains, department stores and open merchandise markets where vendors, holding scarves, hats and fans, run after foreigners and yell "One dolla, One dolla!" If you are just getting back on a bus, they start yelling "Two for one dolla!"

Stores in most cities are the width of double car garages with the entire front open by way of a garage door—and a dizzying cacophony of signs. Young people are fashion conscious, wear chic, hot eyewear and ride bikes and scooters in all weather. Tiny taxis and delivery vehicles are often trikes. But cars are becoming more prevalent (Buick is king, go figure) and the roads are impossibly jammed. One of our tour companions noted that traffic signals seem to be merely a suggestion. Fortunately, in the big cities (19 million people) there are walking tunnels under the big thoroughfares. In the small towns (only 5 million) crossing the street is like being on Fear Factor. Restaurants and cafes abound, but you can still see women on the street selling steaming sweet potatoes from a grill on the back of a bicycle.

And the construction projects! Skyscrapers, stadiums, shopping centers, and apartments are going up everywhere. As Beijing readies for the 2008 Olympics, the government is rebuilding, repaving and replanting almost the whole city— giving rise to horrendous smog.

With all the building, people joke that their national bird is the crane. They also laugh that their national flag is laundry, because on almost every hi-rise balcony, laundry hangs from bamboo poles. Many people have dryers but hate using them.

The people. Friendly, warm, polite, short and thin. I felt like a balloon from the Macy’s Parade. Our guides provided a fascinating travelogue and stories galore. Henry (his American name) had a great sense of humor and delighted in telling us tales of other tour groups. At one point he was laughing about an incident where two teens misbehaved and, quoting Henry, "they stuck asses out window!" Our crew taught Henry the American word "mooning." I’m sure that will be helpful for him to know when, following this stint in tourism, he goes for his MBA.

The tour bus usually picked us up by 9 a.m. so Bonnie and I sometimes took early morning walks to see what surrounded each hotel. Often, we were the only Caucasians on the crowded streets and we attracted attention. Once, a bike whipped around a corner and splashed muddy water all over Bonnie’s shorts. People gasped, but when they saw Bonnie laugh, they laughed and came running with hankies.

On our morning jaunts and early tours, we saw large groups of people gathered in parks doing Tai Chi or other group exercises. In fact, all day long, everywhere we looked, seniors played mah jonng or other board games, or practiced musical instruments with small choirs. Workers retire fairly early to make room for younger employees. And many grandparents watch THE grandchild—per the population reduction policy mandating only one child per family. There is the potential for one very spoiled child, as four grandparents and two parents constantly hover.

The politics. The only time I felt we were in a police state was our first day, at Tiananmen Square. We saw the big square, surrounded by government buildings, but we could not go onto the square as they had visiting dignitaries. Armed soldiers stood guard and it was a little creepy. Henry, and our Beijing guide Mai told us we could ask them anything we wanted, but ON the bus.

Pulling away from the area, we asked Mai how many people died in the 1989 uprising. She said we probably knew more than she did—but let us know she was a student at the time and sided with the protestors. Henry told us that people from small cities who want to work in Beijing or Shanghai, need a special I.D. card. He had to join the Communist Party to get one—but we could sense he was not happy about that.

But the people seem proud and patriotic, and believe they are moving toward a more open society.

Following this serious discussion, Henry lightened the mood by asking how many people we thought could fit in Tiananmen Square. "Do not be offended," he said, "but answer is 1 Million Chinese, half million Americans…just kidding, he assured us."

"When’s lunch?" chimed somebody. We were a happy group.

We also talked about all the building. If the government wants to put up a new building, like Nike, they just do. Face it, they don’t waste time with environmental impact statements or public hearings. And displacing people? They move people to a new place far out of town, or pay them to move. Hmmm. With the new eminent domain laws pushed by our current administration, this is sounding very familiar.

At one point, Henry mentioned that by the end of Mao’s revolution, the word comrade was not used anymore. "Now, you call somebody comrade it means gay," he said. "That is okay now." He inferred that things were more open for gays in the cities now, but we saw no evidence of comrades. Except, of course, in the Beijing Minority song and dance troupe we saw one night.

Our vacation itself was a good example of the political climate. All tour companies visiting China cover pretty much the same ground—and must include stops at government owned or sponsored factories. We toured rug, pearl, silk, cloisonné and jade factories, at which, adopting a pack mentality, our group frenetically and gleefully bought souvenirs and gifts. But, it did seem like compulsory shopping, although far be it for me to complain about such a thing.

Bathroom facilities. Peeing was as strenuous as climbing the Great Wall. You see, most of the bathroom stalls contain squatters—not holes in the ground like Girl Scout camp, but porcelain troughs with a button you step on to flush. These require you to plant your feet firmly on either side, pull your pant cuffs up and trousers down and balance like a Chinese acrobat to relieve yourself—all the while using the right choreography to keep your clothing dry. I limited liquids to near dehydration. As a dyke who’s last day in a dress was my sister’s wedding in 1987, if I go to Asia again it will be (God help me) in mini-skirts.

Shanghai. The best for last. This beautiful, ultra modern city is the jewel of China. Lucky, lucky us, our friend Lyena (from Redfish Designs on Rehoboth Avenue!), was in Shanghai (her hometown) on a business trip when our tour was there. She took us out for an evening we will never forget. From an exquisite dinner to the lights of Nanjing Road (more neon than Vegas!) to the Bund (a section of European style buildings from the 1930s) where you could see across the river to the lights of Shanghai’s tallest buildings, our private tour rocked!

Gorgeous sights, gorgeous architecture. Yes, said Lyena, lots of Chinese people have the money for these fabulous new apartments and the prices rival Manhattan or Rehoboth’s beach block. I had to laugh. For all the tea in China (and there’s a lot!) I couldn’t understand how people could pay 3 million dollars for an apartment, but wave their drying underpants from the balconies.

Well, It’s a different culture; a different world, although we have much in common. Asia is on the ascent. Our youngsters should be learning Mandarin.