a stroll in the park on a June morning in Shanghai-

Susan’s Daily Grind in Beijing in Five Installments: Installment One- The Rundown on my Daily Jog

7:00 AM

I wake up every morning at 7:00 AM to the early light of daybreak flooding through my window- that is, if it is a good day in Beijing. After lingering under the covers for a few minutes, I get out of bed, brush my teeth, and don my socks and sneakers before I ride the elevator down to the first floor for my daily morning run.

I love mornings in Beijing- before the hustle and bustle, before the honking of horns, and before the pushing and shoving- it’s during the mornings when I see a gentler and more forgiving side of Beijing. Mornings here are the quiet moments I have to myself- And what I love most is that I get to share these moments with all the others who are relishing their own quiet moments before the start of their day.

Over the course of my run, I pass by a roadside speckled with the leftovers of many yesterdays- worn out pieces of kindergarten puzzle mats weathered by years of trampling little feet, abused toilets with shattered seats and missing tank covers, and the appendages of neglected sofas - each item abandoned without any honorable obituary, leaving me to fill in the story behind each object.

But it’s not all a lifeless wasteland- in fact, the wheels are still turning for the rest of the world. Every morning is marked by a rhythm and routine driven by the simple missions of each individual- much like my 7:00 AM daily morning run. Keeping pace with the delivery man hauling crates of milk in glass jugs on the back of his bike, I coast by school-bound children, pee-happy dogs, and early bird grannies and grampies.

The community that I live in is quite large, and spans around 4 or 5 separate apartment complexes. Sprinkled among each complex are many different elementary schools, I would say around 5 small schools, all within a mile from my building. By a quarter past seven, all the moms, dads, grandmas, or grandpas go hand in hand with their little girls or boys to drop them off at school before commuting to work. Some go by foot, as the guardians hold animal and action figure back packs in one hand and struggle to keep up with their harefooted children- and some go by bike, with moms or dads pedaling hurriedly to get their children to school on time as their kids hug them from behind. What really brings a smile to my face, though, is seeing the red-scarved children do their calisthenic exercises every morning. Probably just the cutest thing ever. (see for yourself!-apologies in advance for the poor video quality)

After the children, come the dogs. Dog grooming and discipline is no joke here in China. The pampered pups here give a bad name to all the fancy felines out there- 4 out of 10 times I see dogs, they are cradled in the arms of their masters- God forbid dirty paws (of course there is another side to it as well, as there is in Korea). Early morning time is social hour for all the pups walked by their masters. As their walkers leisurely walk along or are crouching over to pick up the trail of evacuated presents (just kidding, no one actually picks up the shit after their dogs in Beijing), all the pooches are busy searching for every inch of un-marked surface area to christen- Either that or they are busy engaged with all the other dogs on the merry-go-round of sniffing each other’s unmentionables. But I must say, though I do love seeing all the different pampered pups strutting down all the catwalks and ledges, it makes for a more alert early morning run, as I dodge poop mine to poop mine like a game of minesweeper.

 

yes, these are dogs- only they are painted to look like pandas…apparently something that’s trending in China

The best part of my run, though, isn’t all the fidos or the youngsters- my favorite part of my daily morning run is when I can catch a glimpse into the moments of solitude of all the elderly who are quietly busy at the wee hours of the morning. Every sunup, grannies and grampies ride down their apartment building elevators clutching fans, hacky-sacks, badminton rackets, swords, and boom boxes in-hand and gather at the heart of my apartment complex. They stay out of the shadows of the tall apartment buildings and congregate in the areas pervaded by sunlight. Each corner is designated to a different activity- an area for hacky sack, an area for wushu, and an area for taichi. I am honestly amazed every time at the limberness I see among the talented Chinese seniors in the parks and other open public spaces, perhaps because I am accustomed to the sedentary lifestyle that most elders lead in the West. No offense to all the grandmothers and grandfathers of all my fellow American friends back at home, but if I had to bet on who would win in a fight between a Chinese senior and an American senior, I would go all-in for the Chinese grannies/grampies every time. But don’t be misled by my jabbering- the daily morning exercise routines of all these early birds are completely innocuous, and possess an air of peacefulness.Together, they are synchronized in motion, focusing on each inhalation- letting each gulp of air make a full circulation in their lungs- and feeling the movement of every joint in their bodies- before they exhale and find their centers of gravity. Watching these moments of collective solitude fills me with energy and inspiration each morning. During this lapse of time, I am washed over by my own moments of mental calm and clarity- and I savor this sense of peace for a few moments before I retreat back to my room to get ready to start my day.

a shot of my apartment complex from my window

Musical Chairs on Moon Festival

Waking up this morning, I felt a crisp breeze through the screened window and for the first time since moving to Beijing, my blanket felt too thin. And just like that, it seems that autumn is on our doorsteps.

Today is the Friday before a three-day weekend to celebrate the Moon Festival on 9/12. Though I’ve been around for holidays such as Qing Ming Jie and the Dragon Boat Festival over the past seven months I have been living in China, today was the first time I perceived a shift in the atmosphere around me- an underlying excitement and a palpable buzz in the air. My four-stop metro ride to work on line one this morning was a typical morning commute in Beijing- nothing short of an exodus at rush hour. My day at work was also ordinary- powerpoint slides, excel sheets, emails, Facebook, Twitter, Weibo, reading news, lunch, playing foosball, skyping, chatting- the usual. Come 5:45 pm, our conversations were sprinkled with talk of mooncakes and train rides to hometowns.

Chinese Mooncake eaten on the Moon Festival

By the time I stepped out of my building, it was 6 pm and the air felt brisk. As the days get shorter and nights get longer, the remaining sunlight slinks away as I walk back from my office to the metro, inciting a sense of urgency to go back home and rest- and by the time I get out of the metro after my four-stop ride, the street lamps are lit to usher in the night.

But as I was walking home from work, I felt a different sense of urgency surrounding me- an urgency incited not only by the quickly dissipating sunlight or chilly gusts or the fact that it was a Friday night- but by something else. People were walking more hurriedly, weaving in and out of crowds and traffic, while the cars stuck at red lights were honking a chorus of pandemonium that was louder than usual.  Expressions on faces were not with the usual post-work exhaustion, but could rather be traced with a sense of excitement on this particular evening. The rhythm accompanying each step was not of habitual monotony, but was marked with a staccato.  As I squeezed myself into the mosh pit that is the 6 o’clock Beijing rush hour clusterfuck, I noticed that an additional presence was taking up more leg space than normal. I peered down to survey the scene, and found that most of the men and women were not only lugging briefcases and laptop bags back home, but also had gold and red boxes of mooncakes in hand to bring back to their families.

I exited the metro and was heading into a small produce shop repeating my dinner grocery list over and over in my head (‘potato, pepper, eggplant, potato, pepper eggplant’) only to find that most of the shelves were empty, and only shriveled and insect-ridden vegetables remained. After trying three more stores to no avail, I imagined a Moon Festival Wipe-out that could be likened to a Thanksgiving Wipe-out where bustling, pre-Thanksgiving grocery store aisles feel barren by 8 pm on Thanksgiving night. So I abandoned my plans to cook dinner, and settled for a bag of instant noodles, a popsicle, and chocolate chip cookies as my dinner.

Walking back home in the cool darkness, I was overcome by a sense of solitude- and the feeling you get when you are the odd one out after playing a couple rounds of musical chairs. I realized, I’ve been doing this China-thing for the past seven months- working in China, eating Chinese food, cooking Chinese food, speaking Chinese, listening to Chinese music, reading Chinese news, and watching Chinese television- but at a time like this, I feel almost displaced and alone. True, I don’t know much about the Chinese Moon Festival, or how it is celebrated- I guess you could even say that it’s the same as me being a bystander for a holiday like Yom Kippur. But living here for the past seven months, I feel that China has become deeply embedded into the fabric of who I am today.

With only two months remaining in my journey, I am honestly nervous and uncertain about my inevitable return back to the US. Though it has definitely not been all picnics and rainbows during my time here in China, being truly on my own to fend for myself in a foreign country has opened my eyes and made me a stronger person. China has become home for me- and though it wasn’t always easy, I feel that my connection to China is so deep because I had to work harder to make it my home.

But with that said- as I sit here on my couch with my bowl of instant noodles and half eaten pack of cookies, I am glad that I will be back home in time for Thanksgiving with my family.

 

With my parents in DC

“Words are, in my not-so-humble opinion, our most inexhaustible source of magic. Capable of both inflicting injury, and remedying it.”

Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

Thoughts on the high speed train from 上海 to 北京

 

July 16, 2011

Traveling into a state of obscurity. Hoping for the best, expecting the worst. But really, hoping for the best.

“On one level, we all know this stuff already - it’s been codified as myths, proverbs, clichés, bromides, epigrams, parables: the skeleton of every great story. The trick is keeping the truth up front in daily consciousness…But there are all different kinds of freedom, and the kind that is most precious you will not hear much talked about in the great outside world of winning and achieving and displaying. The really important kind of freedom involves attention, and awareness, and discipline, and effort, and being able truly to care about other people and to sacrifice for them, over and over, in myriad petty little unsexy ways, every day. That is real freedom. The alternative is unconsciousness, the default setting, the “rat race” - the constant gnawing sense of having had and lost some infinite thing.”

-David Foster Wallace

Hangzhou to Shanghai (杭州》上海）

April 17, 2011

I am on a standing train now, back to Shanghai scheduled to arrive by 8 pm. I am in the 9th car of the train, standing by the entry door which has a small window to look out of. The train has now stopped for a short break at one of the intermediate stations, and an old man has stepped out of the train beside me to take a fresh breath of his cigarettes.

The train advances into a night that becomes blacker and blacker. I have to use my right hand to cup the window and the side of my face in order to see the passing scenes instead of my own reflection.

Apart from the intermediate train stations, the land is speckled with illuminated rooms and the glow of television screens. I try to peer as close as possible into these rooms, houses, and factories to try and catch a trace of life in such a barren landscape riddled with skeletons of buildings.

Looking into the darkness feels so different than being in Shanghai. There is a sense of calm and quiet that blankets over these big expanses of land, but the large and gaudy billboards in the distance seem to foreshadow the transformation that the land has been predestined for. It is Sunday evening and lines and lines of lights are on in the factory as men and women work late into the night.

Last leg before arriving in Shanghai.

Lingyin Temple, Hangzhou

Day 1: Shanghai to Hong Kong（上海》香港）

June 19, 2011

It’s 11:42 pm and we’re rounding up on the 6th hour of our 18 hour train ride from Shanghai to Hong Kong. We’re in the third car, in the 15th compartment. I’m up on the top bunk now, and my overhead light is the only one still glowing as we go darker and darker into the night. If I close my eyes, I can feel the soft turbulence on my belly as the train wheels grind with the train tracks, rocking my body gently from left to right like a lullaby.

It’s been nearly 5 months since I first arrived in Shanghai, and these empty pages bear an unspoken gravity that I’ve been carrying on my shoulders and conscience for far too long. But being here on this train feels like a refuge and this feeling of transit as I look at the passing scenery out the window gives me a sense of renewed hope and strength.

These past five months in Shanghai haven’t turned out the way I’d hoped- or expected. Though certain stretches of time during my stay in Shanghai have been trying in unexpected ways, I am hoping that one day I will be able to forgive myself for not being strong or courageous enough when I should have been. And through this, I hope to claim a sense of happiness and independence that was always rightfully mine. I hope to prove to myself, and no one else, what I truly came here to do- and that is to bear the steps of my past as I unfetter my mind and continue to rage against the waning flame and find again the burning desire that lies within my heart.

Tian Tan Buddha, Lantau Island- Hong Kong

Through the Looking Glass

An excerpt from a letter to a friend:

May 11, 2011

“You know when you’re just living your life sometimes and you hit a rough patch of days/weeks/months? I was thinking about this today while I was on my lunch break. I went to a gallery after lunch and took a walk around to look at the paintings. The exhibit featured figures of women painted on silk, encased behind glass. As I was walking around, I could see my reflection on the glass blend in with the paintings behind the glass, and I started thinking about these rough patches. And even though there have been some days where I regret coming back, as I saw my reflection in the glass, I knew that I was here for a reason. I knew that the choices and decisions and mistakes I make today would make me a better and stronger person in the future. The past few months have oftentimes been lonely, but I know it won’t always be like this. I know that everything is happening for a reason- and later on when I look back on this time, I may recall it to have been relatively quiet and I may have felt relatively alone, but I will remember it as a time during which I was learning more about myself with each new day.”

Moganshan Road, Shanghai

a little somesing somesing i put together for a job application....check it out if you gots nothing better to do →