Back in Town

Over There, originally uploaded by Awreye.

你好。

I've returned and am breathing Beijing's polluted air once more. The blogging moratorium was due to my summer travel craziness (trips spanning two continents, several beaches, one desert and many a rainy clime). While most Beijingers fled town during the National Day holiday, I stayed, watched the military parade on television and chilled at the Modern Sky Festival.

Beijing, it's good to be back...well, good until the Beijing Cough knocks me out again and the 53rd time someone's spit lands 3 inches from my foot. Until then, let's hug.

Not so long ago

One year and one day ago my plane touched down in Beijing, the last stop on my two week, four stop tour of China. The last time I visited this city was 13 years ago. Needless to say, the city had changed quite a bit since then.

My memories of that first trip are a blur of awe at the vastness of the Forbidden Palace, pain from walking the long boulevard of Chang'an Avenue and "wow, things are so different from home" observations like the elderly men in their open-air hair salons (basically a stool parked oustide the red wall of the Palace) beckoning to passerbys.

Fast forward to 2008. I was balancing a mojito on my knee while lounging in Bed Bar, when a member of our group mentioned that today was the 19th anniversary. Floored that I had completely forgotten the significance of that day (encouraged no doubt by its complete lack of mention in the local media), I and that member hailed a cab bound for Tiananmen to check out the scene.

As we approached a few minutews past midnight, we were greeted by silence. No signs of rememberance existed. A few guards watched a handful of tourists snap portraits of themselves under the watchful gaze of Mao's portrait and harsh street lamps. That's it.

Will I feel the same emptiness tomorrow?

Missing

Earlier this year my mom and a Portland friend sent me care packages filled with goodies: MTA subway map, Stumptown coffee, Brooklyn Industries t-shirts, earplugs, Dayquil. Yay! But when I am asked on the spot "what can I send you from home?" my mind usually goes blank. Everything is seemingly Made in China, so what do I possibly need from the US which I can't get here? So I started keeping notes about items, which I've needed or miss from home, and can't purchase readily or of a good quality.

On the list so far:
anti-perspirant that actually works and passes the black dress test
delicious cheese (not that sliced crap in the supermarket)
freshly made pesto
electroluminescent wire
spray foam
a superb croissant
Brooklyn Beer on tap
a straight answer (the chabudou, vague answers drive me nuts sometimes)
prosciutto
tampons
fitted bed sheets

While I can probably find the food and personal care items from Jenny Lou's, a supermarket which imports many of their goods from US and Europe and sells them at a significant mark-up, part of me balks at paying US$15 for a small container of jarred pesto with an expiration date of 6 months (ew).

I'm going to compare notes with other expat friends to see what is on their "missing from home" list. Wow, many of these items are food-related. This is probably due to my skipping dinner tonight. Based on the items on my list, it would seem that I am a starving, sweaty woman. So attractive.

Cute I am Not

How did it come to this? I walked by a street vendor two days ago selling t-shirts emblazoned with the usual assortment of NYPD logos, Chinglish statements and cutesy pandas. My eye picked out a tee with 4 Hello Kitties wearing Kiss-style makeup. The headline: Hello Kissy.

Usually my brain would simply register, "aww, how cute." But two days ago my brain also registered, "aww, how cute. let me buy one." Whaaaaa? I almost never wear these kind of tees with logos and fluffy animals, so why is my brain immediately jumping to how awesome I would look in it? Has exposure to millions of folks wearing such tees with bedazzled jeans affected my sense of perspective? China, what are you doing to my sense of personal style?!

P.S. Last month I gave into the "aww...buy" instinct with a gray t-shirt dotted with sushi rolls and "I heart sushi." Not a purchase I would have made in New York. I don't even heart sushi in real life, but the tee was so darn adorable.

Just a Whistle

FYI yesterday's post was triggered oddly enough by a sound which I haven't heard since leaving New York, a whistle.

As I was leaving the Bridge Café yesterday afternoon, a bicyclist whistled at me. I haven't heard that sound since shuffling one block from my apartment to the corner bodega one weekend morning. Apparently the messy hair, black yoga pants, faded shrunken t-shirt and Chacos combo is a hot look for me back in Brooklyn. Here not so much. A woman, clad in the sloppiest, baggiest or oddest outfit, can walk down many a street in New York still get the "Hey, baby. You look soooo fine," murmured by a passerby or shouted out of a car window.

While I have seen foreign and local men discreetly give women the once over (usually those with tank tops cut to there and skirts cut to here), I haven't heard a catcall, whistle-type of harassment (or expression of appreciation for the female form, as some of my guy friends call it) in China.

The bicyclist wiggled his eyebrows at me as we passed each other. I had to stop and laugh. While at home, the "hey, baby" type of exchange made me roll my eyes, this whistle reminded me of home.

No DL Tailgate Parties Here

When I moved to Beijing, I unsubscribed from many New York-centric email lists about events, concerns, local groups of which I was a member. Each email made me miss the city and its quirkiness, an example of which is below:

date Mon, Apr 20, 2009 at 10:48 PM
subject Dalai Lama Tailgate party

Let's down beery marys and grill some veggie dogs before the happiness lecture.

Wear your favorite jerseys and paint your face NFL style. Bring balls
and giant foam hands.

How awesome is that subject header?

I've traveled a bit and lived in New England through college, but never experienced homesickness until my move to Beijing. How funny -- I couldn't wait to start this new chapter in my life last February. Now every three weeks I'll long for things New York: diversity, fresh tasty non-Chinese foods (especially pesto and Couscous Royale), crisp relatively clean air, my group of creative and driven friends, street art, edginess, late night no-holds barred discussion about taboo subjects with strangers and living no more than four blocks away from a green space more beautiful than Central Park, a bodega which stocks Lindemanns, a stop for 2 subway lines and a restaurant which serves awesome cocktails (Kiss the Sky, mmm) and juicy burgers.

Above photo was taken in my old Brooklyn neighborhood. I miss you Park Slope!

I am not quite ready to admit that living in New York has spoiled all cities for me. However I will admit that being away from my comfort zone of all things familiar has made me know myself better, decide what I really like, really dislike and can survive without. When I leave Beijing, I wonder if I'll long for this city as well.

No Voicemail, No Problem

I've sent and received over 500 text messages the past month. Woah. Back in New York, my text messaging rarely ventured into the triple digits each month.

When you can't reach someone via a phone call here, text seems to be the preferred method of instant communication over e-mail and voicemail. Who leaves home without their mobile on them? Since voicemail is an added service for most mobile phone plans, it seems like most thrifty Beijingers rarely pay for it especially when sending texts are so cheap. Plus who wants to hear long-winded voicemails anyway?

Having made the mistake of trying to make last-minute plans via email (silly when everyone is on the go and many folks lack wireless Internet access on their phone), I see the appeal of texting. However my Nokia phone's text appeal fails to completely win me over since lacks a full keyboard. Until the day comes when I spring for a iPhone, my thumbs will suffer and email will still have an edge.

Sticking Out

Conversation between a friend and I as we walked through a food market:

"Yeah, it's certainly interesting being a foreigner here. Some of my non-Chinese friends hate the stares that follow them as they walk down the streets, while I can sort of blend in as an Asian," I said.

"Yo, you do not blend in." my friend said as she passed some delicious-looking berries.

"What are you talking about?"

"You don't dress like a Beijinger. I mean, maybe you can pass as a Shanghai person, but not a local."

"Do I radiate 'New Yorker' vibes or something?"

"I don't know, but certainly not Beijinger."

Maybe the ridiculously tight lime pants, which I purchased yesterday, will help me blend in.

Blip

Last night as my techno loving taxi driver accelerated past smog-wrapped skyscrapers and tiled roofs lining the Third Ring Road, I realized whoa, I'm living in Beijing. I'm living in Beijing? I'm living in Beijing.

Yes, it's another blog by an American in China

A month before I left New York, I promised myself that I would not add to the proliferation of Americans/Canadians/Brits/etc transplants to China blogs. The world does not need another "gee, things are so different here in Beijing!" post. But during the weeks leading up to my departure friends kept asking and prodding me about keeping some sort of record, so I broke my promise. Plus it will be amusing to read this years from now when I no longer have the means to travel because Social Security funds have dried up.

Four days have passed since my Air China flight took off from JFK. During those four days I got lost in the streets of Wudaokou, spent a combined nine hours talking to China Mobile and Nokia customer service representatives because my fancy new mobile phone doesn't work properly and have yet to recover my appetite from jetlag.

In case you're wondering, I'm a Brooklynite by way of Long Island and Hong Kong. The title of this blog was inspired by one of my favorite blogs from the old 'hood (thanks for "letting" me borrow it, FIPS!)

Enjoy.