In Beijing, the tour group went to visit an emperor Ming’s tomb. We didn’t go underground into the actual tombs as my mother had when she went on her China tour years ago, because the government no longer allows visits down there. Too many eery things happened to visitors. They’d get sick, they’d get into car accidents on their way back, people were seemingly possessed by evil spirits. One such thing happened to my parents’ friend’s wife. Within steps into the Ming tomb, she gagged and passed out. Her face was purple by the time they brought her out of there. For years after that, her health was failing to the point where doctors who could not figure out what was wrong with her told them to prepare for her death. She’d get freakishly cold sometimes sitting in a room and cower from chilled drafts that no one else felt, and she’d sometimes feel like she were being smothered and gasp for air. They finally had a Chinese spiritual doctor come visit her. After the examination, he said she is the reincarnation of a powerful general in Emperor Ming’s army, and the land-bound souls of about 1000 soldiers who’d died with the emperor or were buried as a sacrifice there recognized their general and followed her home, and he had to exorsize her. I’m not sure I believe that, but I do think there is a possibility that in a past life, she was sacrificed there at the tombs, especially if she was a famous powerful general, because it would have been an honor to follow your emperor into the next world. And maybe she was reliving the point of death. Anyway, she was healed perfectly after the Chinese spiritual doctor did his thing.

I’m glad I wasn’t told this story until this weekend when I visited my parents, cuz I would’ve been freaked out by what happened to me at the tombs. Like I said, we didn’t go underground into the tombs, but even then, the tourguide warned us that once we step onto tomb property, we were not to refer to her by her real name, we were to call her 007. Why? Because the restless spirits that reside there, once they could identify you by name, would come to you that night and give you horrid nightmares. I didn’t necessarily believe this superstition, but I turned to Mr. W and asked, “If you screw up and say my name, can I say yours?” He said, “Sure.” I said, “See you in my nightmares.” He told his friends John and Lidya, “You don’t wanna be a part of CINDY’S nightmares, she has some FREAKY dreams.” “So don’t say my name,” I cautioned as I walked up the steps into the holy place.

The grounds were pretty, and at one place, I asked John and Lidya (without using their names) if they’d like me to take their picture coming down some picturesque steps. They handed me and Mr. W their cameras, and we snapped away, after which John said, “Thanks [Mr. W]! Thanks Ci–” and I cut him off with “DON’T SAY IT!” Realizing what he’d done, John gasped and apologized, but it was too late.
“Thanks a lot, JOHN!” Mr. W laughed.
Our tourguide didn’t realize that Mr. W’s real name was said aloud and thought I’d stopped John on time, so she laughed and said to Mr. W, “You gotta thank Cindy! You should thank Cindy! He almost said your name!”
I pointed at her. “YOU just said my name TWICE!”
She froze. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

Things got a little better after that. On the way out of the tombs, we stopped by some people selling wares and jewelry on blankets on the ground. One of the guys selling thought I was married because I was wearing the traditional jadeite bracelet (see previous post), and asked why I didn’t teach my husband Chinese. I said in Chinese, “If I taught him the language I couldn’t talk about him behind his back.” They laughed. Then he asked whether another older Asian couple in our tourgroup were my parents. I told him no. He said, “Really? Because you and his wife look a lot alike!” I didn’t know what to respond to that, so I just smiled. The woman’s husband, however, said, “Thank you!” I was flattered.

I’m happy to report, no one had nightmares that night.