Beijingren

(A bicycle carriage for touring the Hutongs.)

It is currently about 34 degrees in Beijing and Soldier's Grove. There's no snow here, but news of the national emergency in the south of China is all over T.V.

Yesterday I met up with my UW-Madison Chinese tutor's younger brother and his friend and toured around the inner city. This experience was great for my Chinese, as the two were able to translate things when I didn't understand and were very kind and patient with my questions. There are many words I've forgotten but hearing them once seems enough to spank my brain back in to orbit. They also taught me a bit of Beijing hua, or local slang, which was quite fun and will hopefully be useful, as people attempting to take advantage will now maybe think I've lived here for a long time. And it makes me look cool with other ex-pats.

We started off the afternoon looking for guitars, as I really miss playing the one I left in the states. It was decided I would borrow one for the time being, and also that the three of us would start a band. Even though it was bit chilly, we strolled around the hutongs, very old neighborhoods with incredibly narrow streets and dilapidated buildings. We had dinner at a 200 year old restaurant serving "small things": you buy tickets and then visit different windows serving bite sized deliciousness. The boys had sheep's stomach and lung soup, while I was served some sort of warm gluten pudding and other sweet things. It was by far the strangest food I've eaten in country yet. Before heading home, the three of us walked along wangfujie, or gold street. There are no cars allowed and the area is full of tall buildings with lots of lights. Think times square.


(Sheep bits soup.)

(Small eats.)

Though both my new friends were born and raised in Beijing, they don't really like it. Both went to college and now work jobs with coveted salaries, but there is nothing they can do about not liking the city. Most people I talk to comment on Americans' freedom; the fact that I was able to pick up and move to a city in an entirely different country is pretty much not possible. They tell me Beijing has a lot of people coming from the county-side, migrant workers looking for a better life. I ask what they think goes through most people's heads when they see me or another foreigner on the street. They answer that either people think we're here to take money from China and exploit the country, or that we have a lot of money and maybe somehow they can get some. I feel a bit sad hearing this, that money is the first thing that comes to mind. But I am not surprised. Often I feel people on the street look at me with some sort of disgust or displeasure. And everywhere, EVERYWHERE, there are ads for western companies. In a country of Asian faces, I would guesstimate that 96% of models on billboards are white. The boys tell me a popular ad says, "If you really love her, take her to Häagen-Dazs." These two see the ridiculousness of such thinking, but obviously it's working, since Häagen-Dazs occupies prime real estate on Wangfujin. So does McDonalds, KFC, and NIKE.