China without Stick is strangely familiar. The children hanging on the hutong’s gate, waiting to see the foreign woman, remind me of the Yantai children, watching on the steps of my apartment and shouting to their friend when they saw me coming. I don’t know if word has gotten out that Stick and the protective testosterone are gone, or if it’s just taken a few weeks for the kids to get up their nerve to see the foreigners, but when I looked up from my book this morning, I saw a collection of children outside the gate, peering in the windows. They ran off as I went to the door, a sure sign that they wanted to see the foreign girl!

I’ve missed the casual chatting with single strangers. Fellow travelers strike up a conversation with a single foreign face, but wouldn’t intrude on a couple. I guess it’s easier to ask me directions when I’m on my own — and I impress myself with my ability to navigate! (Greg from Minnesota, I hope my directions get you to the Forbidden City ok!)

Some of it, through, I never missed. I wasn’t missing the loneliness when something funny happens, and no one shares it with me, or the depressing realization that my amusing and awful moments will only be shared in a secondhand way, some of the hilarity and horror rubbed away with the delay in telling. It never fails to shock me, when I discover something else about my wild adopted homeland, that my eyes have been opened to something new and strangely Chinese, while everyone I love is sleeping now. As I sleep through the weddings and birthdays and every days of my family back home.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Without Stick

Tweet this!

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Repairs at the Forbidden City

Tweet this!

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Man Shop

Tweet this!

Don’t forget what we bought at the Man Shop.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Hall For Choosing Concubines

Tweet this!

Can’t be too forbidden if all these foreigners can come in.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Forbidden City

Tweet this!

We had a great Sunday with Hugo and Diana at Beihai Park. We relaxed in the gardens on the north side of the park, then caught the boat over to the little island, and climbed up to the white dagoba. It’s a bit like the Jersey Turnpike here, every few minutes you need to stop at another checkpoint and pay another couple kwai to keep going. The view from the top, though, is worth the sweat and the yuan. You can see the sloping golden roofs of the Forbidden City, and see them surrounded by skyscrapers in all directions.

For more pictures (Mom and Sylvana!), here’s my facebook photo album.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

The Emperor’s New Clothes

Tweet this!

I told my dad about our new hutong home. He said I could live even closer to the Forbidden City but I’d probably have to become a concubine.

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

Paternal Guidance

Tweet this!

First, here’s a Danwei article about the way the F-bomb pops up in Chinglish translations, and why. Check it out, if only for the screenshot of the computer translations.

Lost Laowai talks about the Rape of Nanking. And not in the CCTV9 70th anniversary documentary way, either.

…it surprised me that I had gone a quarter of a century on this planet and never heard of Nanjing, never mind anyone raping it.

When I ended up moving to China not long after, I was a bit taken aback by the overt hate and racism towards Japan and Japanese. I mean, sure I had only relatively recently heard of the horrors that befell Chinese at the hands of Japanese soldiers – but that was nearly 70 years ago, how could they still be pissed about it?

But I think it’s my ignorance towards this part of history that is largely responsible. We shout the loudest when no one is listening, and for a long time no one was listening to China.

Tim Johnson on China Rises talks about Beijing air quality. It’s not alarmist predictions of environmental doom, just an expat and father wondering about the long-term effects of China air. Obviously we don’t have kids, but Stick and I often wonder if the price to pay for our Chinese adventure is a hacking cough.

Beijing is severely polluted. Call me ethnocentric but my experience is that most Chinese have no idea how severe the pollution is. They’ve rarely or never been outside of China, and they’ve grown accustomed to the haze and smog. We Westerners are not. Yet we choose to live here, often for very good job reasons, even enjoying ourselves greatly. And our kids’ health may suffer in the process. It’s not something most parents want to dwell on.

Optimists see the Forbidden City, the Temple Of Heaven and the Rainbow bridge, but blogger Imagetheif wants to know Beijing ugliest buildings. There are so many modern monsters that it’s hard to pick one, and a lot of buildings that look fine alone (the leaning tower of CCTV or the Olympic bird’s nest) don’t look so great when surrounded by Beijing’s grey Soviet blocks and competing neon.

Strolling down Chang’an Avenue recently I was struck by how much of central Beijing’s recent construction is, well, nasty. Seriously: Jianwai Soho, Twins Mall, Wanda, it’s all transforming the Boulevard into one long strip of gleaming, mixed-use wreckage pockmarked with Starbucks outlets.

And an older one, but worth repeating. Sinoplice‘s entry on Why Life In China Is Like An RPG

9. It takes place in a magical world where people believe in mystical concepts like qi and fengshui
10. The people take legends very seriously (even 5,000 year old ones)
11. The word “peasant” doesn’t seem out of place
12. There are plenty of barmaids in the taverns and women of ill repute on the streets
13. The background story: a legendary kingdom has fallen under the control of a powerful, malevolent force, and heroes are nowhere to be found…

From the blog Simpson's Paradox, please comment here:

China Blog Mixtape

Tweet this!