Counting down the minutes and hours now until my flight leaves Beijing Thursday afternoon...its hard to believe that just 6 months ago I was sitting in the passenger window of my first Beijing taxi watching the apartments of Wangjing fly by in an orange haze of winter smog on my way to the hutong hotel where I would stay for my first five days in China.
Now its July 29th and I'm trying to pack my stuff home, cramming Chinese local food specialties between t-shirts purchased at Nanluoguxiang, and wondering if my Mao lighters will pass through baggage screening this time.
The last few days have been a whirl of goodbyes, riding the subway across Beijing and back to my pinfang, to see some of the Tsinghua students and professor I met up at Wudaokou, having lunch with another friend, going out to the west third ring road to see my former professor at Capital Normal University, and then over today to a mall near the CBD to go over the final survey report I produced for the Global Heritage Fund in Pingyao with the site director Han Li. Tonight after having circumnavigated the various extremities of the Beijing subway system, I was ready for collapsing in my comfortable little bed, but though my body was tired my mind was filled with the memories of the past few months that are beginning to replay themselves like a reel in my mind accompanied by Green Day's "I Hope you Have the Time of Your Life" playing in the background as it was sung at my Bar Mitzvah service by my hip new-age fusion cantor.
Earlier today I awoke to take the subway to the far northern outskirts of town to get a glimpse at Orange County, Beijing: the Chinese version of my suburban but apparently oh-so hip home county, a veritable piece of southern california suburbia in the fields north of Beijing (more to come on that later) home to the people who "got rich first" in this dizzying economic boom.
Right now, I can't imagine what it will be like to step off the plane in Socal after six months abroad. Will it be a harder adjustment than moving to China? Will I have reverse culture shock? Whow knows? But what I do know at this point is that the first meal I plan to have upon arrival will be a big fat juicy In N Out Burger, animal style.
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Hutong Rain, Hutong Life
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.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
All the Dude Ever Wanted Was a Foot Massage
It was a slow evening in Suzhou and my parents and brother all decided to go to sleep early. I decided to explore the town at night, and began walking alongside darkened canals, ending up in a deserted area near a temple that seemed to be a commercial area but was empty at such a late hour. Then a man driving a kind of small cart, came up and offered to take me to a massage parlor. I knew from the outset this was sketchy, and indeed there was no subtlety in his promising me, "xiaojie" or prostitutes. I told him I only had 28RMB on me, and only wanted a foot massage. He assured me I could get this there if that was all I wanted.
I decided to hop onboard, if not out of boredom, perhaps out of curiosity. He took me all around town, and I reasoned that even if I didn't end up getting a massage I would have at least been taken on a 2 kuai tour of Suzhou at night, in a cart mind you.
Upon arrival at the establishment, I wasn't reassured about the legitimacy of the promised foot massage parlour. I knew these women were probably prostitutes but I still held out hope that I might be able to get a massage. I was seated in a private room, cheaply decorated with trashy fake leather, a flat screen TV, and a bowl of fruit sitting miserably on a plexiglass table, echoing of those Dutch still life paintings which also seemed to suggest the wasted fruits of a debauched lifestyle.
Five minutes into conversation with so-called masseuse (who claimed to be attending Suzhou University) over some room temperature watermelon, I was offered a beer. I asked how much for one bottle, and was told 30 RMB, 2 RMB more than I had on me. I told the girl, she went outside, and a few moments later a portly Chinese man entered, whom I could only assume was the pimp.
He seemed to suggest to me that I hand over the money I had, and I said I only had 20 RMB and just wanted a massage. I offered to leave immediately, and told him I had only been in the room for five minutes and had consumed all but one slice of an overripe watermelon. He seemed to want to inspect my person for hidden money, but finally he agreed to take the 20 kuai and even offered me to keep the rest for my taxi ride home. What a generous pimp he was.
So I left, having been too cheap to afford a massage or a prostitute...and thinking that the story I had was worth the 20 RMB I had spent for watermelon and five minutes of a prostitutes time. I ended up handing over the 8 kuai to the same man who had brought me here. On the ride home, he kept telling me to come back tomorrow, "you can have sex for only 100 RMB, bring your brother!" I decided that I had seen enough of the dirty underside of China's rapid economic development, and politely refused.
I fell asleep bemused, thinking Larry David would be very proud of me indeed.
I decided to hop onboard, if not out of boredom, perhaps out of curiosity. He took me all around town, and I reasoned that even if I didn't end up getting a massage I would have at least been taken on a 2 kuai tour of Suzhou at night, in a cart mind you.
Upon arrival at the establishment, I wasn't reassured about the legitimacy of the promised foot massage parlour. I knew these women were probably prostitutes but I still held out hope that I might be able to get a massage. I was seated in a private room, cheaply decorated with trashy fake leather, a flat screen TV, and a bowl of fruit sitting miserably on a plexiglass table, echoing of those Dutch still life paintings which also seemed to suggest the wasted fruits of a debauched lifestyle.
Five minutes into conversation with so-called masseuse (who claimed to be attending Suzhou University) over some room temperature watermelon, I was offered a beer. I asked how much for one bottle, and was told 30 RMB, 2 RMB more than I had on me. I told the girl, she went outside, and a few moments later a portly Chinese man entered, whom I could only assume was the pimp.
He seemed to suggest to me that I hand over the money I had, and I said I only had 20 RMB and just wanted a massage. I offered to leave immediately, and told him I had only been in the room for five minutes and had consumed all but one slice of an overripe watermelon. He seemed to want to inspect my person for hidden money, but finally he agreed to take the 20 kuai and even offered me to keep the rest for my taxi ride home. What a generous pimp he was.
So I left, having been too cheap to afford a massage or a prostitute...and thinking that the story I had was worth the 20 RMB I had spent for watermelon and five minutes of a prostitutes time. I ended up handing over the 8 kuai to the same man who had brought me here. On the ride home, he kept telling me to come back tomorrow, "you can have sex for only 100 RMB, bring your brother!" I decided that I had seen enough of the dirty underside of China's rapid economic development, and politely refused.
I fell asleep bemused, thinking Larry David would be very proud of me indeed.
Exploring Jiangnan
From Beijing my family and I flew to Hangzhou, renowned for its beautiful West Lake. We were also able to make the journey (described above) to nearby Suzhou and Tongli, two canal towns typical of the Yangzte River Delta region, also known as Jiagnan.
The Jiangan (meaning south of the Yangtze River) Region, during Ming and Qing times, was one of the wealthiest regions in China, made even more so by the construction of the Grand Canal that linked Beijing to Suzhou and allowed for a flow of goods and taxes from this fertile region to the dry capital. Both Hangzhou and Suzhou are still imbued with a stately natural elegance that can be felt most strongly in the gardens, such as those around West Lake in Hangzhou, and the Humble Administrator's Garden in Suzhou. As we explored the gardens and greenery of the West Lake, I could almost imagine the wondrous and mysterious city that Marco Polo described in his famous travel records.
Tongli, a small village outside Suzhou, is more completely preserved and is now a kind of tourist village. We rented a boat to show us around, and also happened upon the China Sex Museum (more to come later), oddly placed within this tiny town.
The Jiangan (meaning south of the Yangtze River) Region, during Ming and Qing times, was one of the wealthiest regions in China, made even more so by the construction of the Grand Canal that linked Beijing to Suzhou and allowed for a flow of goods and taxes from this fertile region to the dry capital. Both Hangzhou and Suzhou are still imbued with a stately natural elegance that can be felt most strongly in the gardens, such as those around West Lake in Hangzhou, and the Humble Administrator's Garden in Suzhou. As we explored the gardens and greenery of the West Lake, I could almost imagine the wondrous and mysterious city that Marco Polo described in his famous travel records.
Tongli, a small village outside Suzhou, is more completely preserved and is now a kind of tourist village. We rented a boat to show us around, and also happened upon the China Sex Museum (more to come later), oddly placed within this tiny town.
A River Scene in Tongli
Travel Advice
Since the last post in May, I have traversed this wide country north to south and back again, first journeying with my parents and brother (who came to visit me in Beijing at the end of my spring term) to Hangzhou, Suzhou, Guilin, Hong Kong (via Guangzhou and Shenzhen), Macao, then back to the mainland with two of my best friends to Nanjing (via Shenzhen once again), and finally back to Beijing.
I have seen a lot in the last month, and endured a few hardships, mostly travel related. I thought, before blogging about the great things we saw, I would bitch about said hardships just a little bit and offer some advice for future travelers who might be in similar positions.
Advice Piece #1: Double Check the Departure Time on your Train Ticket
It was a balmy evening in Hangzhou when I arrived at the main train station with plenty of time to spare for our 8:55 departure, or so I thought. All was fine and good until I took a look at the departure board in the central hall, no sign of any trains to nearby Suzhou, our intended destination. Upon speaking with one of the clerks, I realized we were not actually one hour early, but eleven hours late. I seemed to have overlooked one small but important detail: 8:55 means 8:55...in the morning. Damnit military time!
My family, who not speaking any Chinese, were mostly dependent on me for the trip, were a little annoyed at first, but soon saw the situation very humorously. Those who know me are aware of my inability to get places on time. On this occasion, we were not just a few minutes late, like I usually was, but rather 11 hours.
In the end, we went downstairs and I negotiated (or rather had no choice but to accept) a 700 RMB cab ride to Suzhou, two hours away. The journey, after having to switch taxis (our first one broke down in Hangzhou) went smoothly. Our jovial driver played some Chinese music and laughed from time to time. We actually arrived in Suzhou earlier than our planned arrival by the train that actually never existed.
Nevertheless, next time I buy train tickets in China, or most countries for that matter, I'll make sure to double check the time.
Advice #2: Don't Use Expedia.com
We got to the airport in Guilin as early as we got to the train station in Suzhou, but upon trying to check in to our flight to Hong Kong (with a stopover in Guangzhou) we were told there was no record of our ticket on said flight. We had booked through expedia so we called their customer service hotline, and were given the usual customer service treatment, which is to say none at all. "Um sorry, we know you booked tickets through our website and are now stranded in a faraway place, but there is nothing we can do about it, please file a report later. thank you." Apparently, Expedia, who had earlier switched our nonstop flight from Guilin to Hong Kong because it was "cancelled" had actually failed to put us on a flight at all. We were stranded in the Guilin Airport...which brings us to our next point.
Advice # 3: Avoid the Guilin Airport
We spent a few lovely hours at beautiful Guilin's airport. By the time we left on our flight to Guangzhou aboard Shenzhen airlines, this airport and its amazingly helpful fuwuyuan had become a punching bag for all of our complaints and anger. First, the women at the airlines desks were either completely incompetent or unwilling to help. Second, I was forced to discard three Mao lighters from my CHECKED luggage. I had been able to pack these lighters on flights all around China, and finally at this airport I was stopped by an over-zealous bag handler. At this point we were all stressed, including myself, due to our cancelled flights and so I let loose the full arsenal of my Chinese curse words upon him, including a shabi here and there, and definitely some tamades. I'm sure by the time we left, with all of our massive American-sized luggage pieces on board, the people at the airport had all their stereotypes of Americans confirmed. Then, just as we were about to board our plane, we made the poor choice of dining at the overpriced airport restaurant that charged us 18 RMB for a sprite, about six times the normal cost.
Advice # 4 Don't try to Cross into Hong Kong on foot
After our direct flight to Hong Kong had been cancelled, and we were unable to board our rescheduled flight due to Expedia's fuck ups, we were forced to improvise a little:
Four tickets from Guilin to Guangzhou, Shenzhen Airlines: 2000RMB
One private bus trip from Guangzhou Airport to Shenzhen: 900 RMB
One bus from Shenzhen-Hong Kong border to Kowloon, Hong Kong: 36 HKD
Crossing the footbridge between HK and Shenzhen with 6 pieces of luggage in a monsoon, then going through customs twice, getting on a bus, being forced to get off again with all our luggage to be "checked" for swine flu, and then finally arriving: Priceless
Advice #5: Don't Stay in the Chungking Mansions
The first few nights in Hong Kong were spent in the comfortable Eaton Hotel with my family. When they returned to the US, I moved into the budget accommodations down Nathan Road at the infamous Chungking Mansions, a melting pot of Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Asians, and white backpackers, a crumbling concrete warren infused with a lingering smell of curry. I stayed here for about a week, waiting for my friends to join me. I had been warned by Internet sites about the dangers of staying here but for most of the stay there were no problems. On the final night here, my friends and I sleeping in the same room, we were had.
My friend Matt at 8:00 AM: "Where's my iphone?"
Me, five minutes later: "Where's my wallet?"
My friend Bruce, five minutes later, "Where's my camera?"
In the middle of the night thieves had infiltrated our secure defenses and managed to grab an item of value from each of us. Luckily I still had my passport, computer, iphone, and computer, all of which were stored under my bed. Our stuff had been rearranged, our room rifled through...these people, whoever they were knew what they were doing. Point being: don't ever stay in the Chungking Mansions.
I have seen a lot in the last month, and endured a few hardships, mostly travel related. I thought, before blogging about the great things we saw, I would bitch about said hardships just a little bit and offer some advice for future travelers who might be in similar positions.
Advice Piece #1: Double Check the Departure Time on your Train Ticket
It was a balmy evening in Hangzhou when I arrived at the main train station with plenty of time to spare for our 8:55 departure, or so I thought. All was fine and good until I took a look at the departure board in the central hall, no sign of any trains to nearby Suzhou, our intended destination. Upon speaking with one of the clerks, I realized we were not actually one hour early, but eleven hours late. I seemed to have overlooked one small but important detail: 8:55 means 8:55...in the morning. Damnit military time!
My family, who not speaking any Chinese, were mostly dependent on me for the trip, were a little annoyed at first, but soon saw the situation very humorously. Those who know me are aware of my inability to get places on time. On this occasion, we were not just a few minutes late, like I usually was, but rather 11 hours.
In the end, we went downstairs and I negotiated (or rather had no choice but to accept) a 700 RMB cab ride to Suzhou, two hours away. The journey, after having to switch taxis (our first one broke down in Hangzhou) went smoothly. Our jovial driver played some Chinese music and laughed from time to time. We actually arrived in Suzhou earlier than our planned arrival by the train that actually never existed.
Nevertheless, next time I buy train tickets in China, or most countries for that matter, I'll make sure to double check the time.
Advice #2: Don't Use Expedia.com
We got to the airport in Guilin as early as we got to the train station in Suzhou, but upon trying to check in to our flight to Hong Kong (with a stopover in Guangzhou) we were told there was no record of our ticket on said flight. We had booked through expedia so we called their customer service hotline, and were given the usual customer service treatment, which is to say none at all. "Um sorry, we know you booked tickets through our website and are now stranded in a faraway place, but there is nothing we can do about it, please file a report later. thank you." Apparently, Expedia, who had earlier switched our nonstop flight from Guilin to Hong Kong because it was "cancelled" had actually failed to put us on a flight at all. We were stranded in the Guilin Airport...which brings us to our next point.
Advice # 3: Avoid the Guilin Airport
We spent a few lovely hours at beautiful Guilin's airport. By the time we left on our flight to Guangzhou aboard Shenzhen airlines, this airport and its amazingly helpful fuwuyuan had become a punching bag for all of our complaints and anger. First, the women at the airlines desks were either completely incompetent or unwilling to help. Second, I was forced to discard three Mao lighters from my CHECKED luggage. I had been able to pack these lighters on flights all around China, and finally at this airport I was stopped by an over-zealous bag handler. At this point we were all stressed, including myself, due to our cancelled flights and so I let loose the full arsenal of my Chinese curse words upon him, including a shabi here and there, and definitely some tamades. I'm sure by the time we left, with all of our massive American-sized luggage pieces on board, the people at the airport had all their stereotypes of Americans confirmed. Then, just as we were about to board our plane, we made the poor choice of dining at the overpriced airport restaurant that charged us 18 RMB for a sprite, about six times the normal cost.
Advice # 4 Don't try to Cross into Hong Kong on foot
After our direct flight to Hong Kong had been cancelled, and we were unable to board our rescheduled flight due to Expedia's fuck ups, we were forced to improvise a little:
Four tickets from Guilin to Guangzhou, Shenzhen Airlines: 2000RMB
One private bus trip from Guangzhou Airport to Shenzhen: 900 RMB
One bus from Shenzhen-Hong Kong border to Kowloon, Hong Kong: 36 HKD
Crossing the footbridge between HK and Shenzhen with 6 pieces of luggage in a monsoon, then going through customs twice, getting on a bus, being forced to get off again with all our luggage to be "checked" for swine flu, and then finally arriving: Priceless
Advice #5: Don't Stay in the Chungking Mansions
The first few nights in Hong Kong were spent in the comfortable Eaton Hotel with my family. When they returned to the US, I moved into the budget accommodations down Nathan Road at the infamous Chungking Mansions, a melting pot of Indians, Pakistanis, Africans, Asians, and white backpackers, a crumbling concrete warren infused with a lingering smell of curry. I stayed here for about a week, waiting for my friends to join me. I had been warned by Internet sites about the dangers of staying here but for most of the stay there were no problems. On the final night here, my friends and I sleeping in the same room, we were had.
My friend Matt at 8:00 AM: "Where's my iphone?"
Me, five minutes later: "Where's my wallet?"
My friend Bruce, five minutes later, "Where's my camera?"
In the middle of the night thieves had infiltrated our secure defenses and managed to grab an item of value from each of us. Luckily I still had my passport, computer, iphone, and computer, all of which were stored under my bed. Our stuff had been rearranged, our room rifled through...these people, whoever they were knew what they were doing. Point being: don't ever stay in the Chungking Mansions.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Expo Mania!
As Beijing was wild with excitement and anticipation for last year's Olympics, Shanghai is preparing in the same way for next year's international exposition. They have a furry mascot, whom I initially thought looked like a tooth but it turns out is actually supposed to represent the Chinese character ren 人, meaning person or in this sense humanity. They've got billboards plastered all over the city advertising Better City Better Life, echoing of the Olympics' One World One Dream or New Olympics New Beijing. Hell, they're even tearing down a large area of old housing on the riverbank south of the city center to create a massive exposition park...sound familiar?
The Chinese are really taking to the culture of internationalism and international events: trade forums, Olympics, expos, etc. But what seems to be the case is that more often than not the local residents end up suffering at the expense of impressing the rest of the world.
But hey, this girl above (taken last weekend at the Shanghai Urban Planning Museum's exhibit on the Expo) seems pretty captivated by the model of China's pavillion at the Expo, which interestingly enough is based on the traditional wood bracket design of the very Chinese buildings that have been leveled across the country for the type of economic modernization and globalization celebrated by events like the Olympics and the Expo...
The Chinese are really taking to the culture of internationalism and international events: trade forums, Olympics, expos, etc. But what seems to be the case is that more often than not the local residents end up suffering at the expense of impressing the rest of the world.
But hey, this girl above (taken last weekend at the Shanghai Urban Planning Museum's exhibit on the Expo) seems pretty captivated by the model of China's pavillion at the Expo, which interestingly enough is based on the traditional wood bracket design of the very Chinese buildings that have been leveled across the country for the type of economic modernization and globalization celebrated by events like the Olympics and the Expo...
Shanghai Dreaming
Two views of Shanghai, one the obligatory bund photo, the other in Yu Gardens...
Shanghai is a slice of Europe in China and when I was there I didn't feel like I was in an exotic Eastern country...this is true in many places in China but in Shanghai especially so.
Highlights: surveying the smoggy skyline from WFC, world's tallest building (until the Burj Dubai opens), eating xiaolongbao dumpling amongst the crowds of Yuyuan Bazaar, wandering the few remaining alleys of the old city in the shadow of nearby Pudong, visiting the site where the Communist Party of China was founded, club-hobbing (with a girl from Kazakhstan and two guys from Germany and Holland) until 6 AM ending up at a sketchy techno place called Dragon Club filled with druggies, riding the world's only maglev to the airport (5 min)....Shanghai is quite a town. But I'm glad I decided to study in Beijing--at least I feel like I'm in China there. I hope in ten years time I can say the same thing about Beijing...
But its good to know that there is a place in China where one can go to indulge all of ones desires and material wants, and all of ones yearnings for life at home. In many ways Shanghai seemed more relaxed than Beijing, the people not necessarily friendlier but less formal, not having to live under the constant eye of Zhongnanhai and not emburdened with the same weight of history and national pride that one sometimes feels while in Beijing.
PS: I absolute love this picture (taken in Yu gardens)
Shanghai is a slice of Europe in China and when I was there I didn't feel like I was in an exotic Eastern country...this is true in many places in China but in Shanghai especially so.
Highlights: surveying the smoggy skyline from WFC, world's tallest building (until the Burj Dubai opens), eating xiaolongbao dumpling amongst the crowds of Yuyuan Bazaar, wandering the few remaining alleys of the old city in the shadow of nearby Pudong, visiting the site where the Communist Party of China was founded, club-hobbing (with a girl from Kazakhstan and two guys from Germany and Holland) until 6 AM ending up at a sketchy techno place called Dragon Club filled with druggies, riding the world's only maglev to the airport (5 min)....Shanghai is quite a town. But I'm glad I decided to study in Beijing--at least I feel like I'm in China there. I hope in ten years time I can say the same thing about Beijing...
But its good to know that there is a place in China where one can go to indulge all of ones desires and material wants, and all of ones yearnings for life at home. In many ways Shanghai seemed more relaxed than Beijing, the people not necessarily friendlier but less formal, not having to live under the constant eye of Zhongnanhai and not emburdened with the same weight of history and national pride that one sometimes feels while in Beijing.
PS: I absolute love this picture (taken in Yu gardens)
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