I am sitting in my new pingfang, or ground-level dwelling near Dongsishitiao on a lazy, muggy Beijing July 5th, recovering from last night's July 4th binge beach party at nearby Vics, and I hear a loud clap punctuating the still life of our tiny neighborhood. Then a huge gust of wind rattles the sheet metal rooves of nearby dwellings and seconds later huge droplets of rain begin to pound our roof.
My neighbor, an 80+ year old hutong denizen, brings his clothing in from outside and secures the loose pieces of wood propped up against his door. It was a little bit of a shock when I felt the wind, as I didn't know if we were experiencing a Mongolian sand storm, or if my small little dwelling could survive such a thrasing. But these weather-worn buildings and their tenacious residents have seen plenty before, so I figured there would be no problem.
Overhead, a flock of swallows soars away seeking refuge somewhere...
I am loving my new hutong life, even if it will only last for the next few weeks until I return to the US. Not living in my luxurious international dorm or dingy youth hostels, I can at last feel like I am a resident of Beijing, if only a temporary one. The area I am living in is probably the most convenient area I could have hoped for. A ten-minute walk east is the expat nightlife and shopping area of Sanlitun and Gongti. Ten minutes west, on the other side of the second ring road is the old inner city neighborhood of Dongsi, full of well-preserved hutongs and siheyuan. Plus, the Dongsishitiao subway is 5 minutes away, as is a Starbucks (where this afternoon I had a hangover-curing, albeit overpriced coffee frappucino and foccaccia sandwich.
Last night, after hanging out at Vics for a few hours with a friend from my study abroad program whose Chinese business partners had purchased a private table at the club, and after talking and dancing for a while with a very friendly girl I met, I made the short and convenient, although a bit wobbly, trek of shame back to my house. Overhead the sky was already lightening and Beijing's laotaitais were out in the streets walking around and sweeping their door entrances. A special moment for a fresh laowai like me but just another day in the long history of this northern capital.
And now it seems, the rain is done.
My neighbor, an 80+ year old hutong denizen, brings his clothing in from outside and secures the loose pieces of wood propped up against his door. It was a little bit of a shock when I felt the wind, as I didn't know if we were experiencing a Mongolian sand storm, or if my small little dwelling could survive such a thrasing. But these weather-worn buildings and their tenacious residents have seen plenty before, so I figured there would be no problem.
Overhead, a flock of swallows soars away seeking refuge somewhere...
I am loving my new hutong life, even if it will only last for the next few weeks until I return to the US. Not living in my luxurious international dorm or dingy youth hostels, I can at last feel like I am a resident of Beijing, if only a temporary one. The area I am living in is probably the most convenient area I could have hoped for. A ten-minute walk east is the expat nightlife and shopping area of Sanlitun and Gongti. Ten minutes west, on the other side of the second ring road is the old inner city neighborhood of Dongsi, full of well-preserved hutongs and siheyuan. Plus, the Dongsishitiao subway is 5 minutes away, as is a Starbucks (where this afternoon I had a hangover-curing, albeit overpriced coffee frappucino and foccaccia sandwich.
Last night, after hanging out at Vics for a few hours with a friend from my study abroad program whose Chinese business partners had purchased a private table at the club, and after talking and dancing for a while with a very friendly girl I met, I made the short and convenient, although a bit wobbly, trek of shame back to my house. Overhead the sky was already lightening and Beijing's laotaitais were out in the streets walking around and sweeping their door entrances. A special moment for a fresh laowai like me but just another day in the long history of this northern capital.
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