Summer is here and some days it gets hot, humid, and really quite oppressive. Beijing’s gray skies only add to the general feeling of glumness. On such days one can find that many of Beijing’s men, most notably taxi drivers for they spend most of their time outdoors, when lolling about, tend to hike up their shirt to near their breasts, exposing their frequently pudgy bellies to the moisture and pollutants laden air. This does not always, matter of fact never, make for a pleasant sight, but is probably an effective way to cool down. I need to find out if they call this anything in particular in Chinese.
I know in India, and at least in Bengali, the phrase to ‘open’ your tummy and sleep exists. The Chinese variation on a universal theme perchance?
Monday, June 26, 2006
Before 'ze Germans' get here...
World Cup Fever! Everywhere I go, for dinner, drinks, or just wandering around, all you see is TV screens, small and large, all tuned into CCTV5. The channel seems to have WC coverage monopoly in China. The time between live matches and match highlights is filled by a game show cum variety show cum analysis show. The Chinese participants seem surprisingly becalmed, but that doesn’t stop the hosts—normally one serious looking fellow and two pretty twenty something women—from being a little over the top. I am sure, at least in part, my impression suffers from the lack of being able to comprehend most of what is going on. Nevertheless, it makes for an interesting contrast. Can’t imagine what it would have been like had the Chinese actually been in the WC.
While most restaurants have all their TVs tuned to CCTV5, some of the more ambitious ones have set up huge rear projection screens outdoors. Sanlitun, Beijing’s bar district, is lined with World Cup advertising and paraphernalia as each bar tries to outdo the other in attracting the thirsty and affluent lao wai (literally ‘old foreign,’ the common term for all us non-Chinese). Near the middle of Sanlitun is a recently constructed building which has a huge (I’d say at least 25 feet diagonal, most likely more) screen. In front of the building is a large courtyard type space, which is crowded with restaurant tables, as well as passersby standing or squatting. I caught two of Spain’s 4 goals against Ukraine on this big screen. On a nice balmy night this is really the place to be. I hope to visit again.
In the meantime, ze Germans seem to be doing well. Dismantled Sweden with a fair bit of panache and it was only the spectacular Isakkson who kept the scoreline respectable for the Swedes. Was particularly impressed with Miroslav Klose. He seems to have developed into a really fine player these past four years. Some of his creative work against the Swedes was top drawer. Looking forward to the Argentina-Germany match on Friday now. Needless to say, hope the chants of ‘wir fahren nach Berlin’ continue to ring through the weekend :)
Too bad the Dutch lost. England squeaked by, only as England know how. I hope they either raise their level of play or head home. This WC has seen the return to dominance of the traditional soccer powers. No surprises seem likely in the final 8. My predictions for the remaining four are: Brazil (duh), Ukraine, Spain (bye bye 'les old bleus') and Italy. Only one real surprise there with the Ukrainians. I wouldn’t be upset if there were a couple of others though (esp. the socceroos and the Ghanaians!).
While most restaurants have all their TVs tuned to CCTV5, some of the more ambitious ones have set up huge rear projection screens outdoors. Sanlitun, Beijing’s bar district, is lined with World Cup advertising and paraphernalia as each bar tries to outdo the other in attracting the thirsty and affluent lao wai (literally ‘old foreign,’ the common term for all us non-Chinese). Near the middle of Sanlitun is a recently constructed building which has a huge (I’d say at least 25 feet diagonal, most likely more) screen. In front of the building is a large courtyard type space, which is crowded with restaurant tables, as well as passersby standing or squatting. I caught two of Spain’s 4 goals against Ukraine on this big screen. On a nice balmy night this is really the place to be. I hope to visit again.
In the meantime, ze Germans seem to be doing well. Dismantled Sweden with a fair bit of panache and it was only the spectacular Isakkson who kept the scoreline respectable for the Swedes. Was particularly impressed with Miroslav Klose. He seems to have developed into a really fine player these past four years. Some of his creative work against the Swedes was top drawer. Looking forward to the Argentina-Germany match on Friday now. Needless to say, hope the chants of ‘wir fahren nach Berlin’ continue to ring through the weekend :)
Too bad the Dutch lost. England squeaked by, only as England know how. I hope they either raise their level of play or head home. This WC has seen the return to dominance of the traditional soccer powers. No surprises seem likely in the final 8. My predictions for the remaining four are: Brazil (duh), Ukraine, Spain (bye bye 'les old bleus') and Italy. Only one real surprise there with the Ukrainians. I wouldn’t be upset if there were a couple of others though (esp. the socceroos and the Ghanaians!).
Saturday, June 17, 2006
Colossal emptiness
It rained recently and I took my first tumble in Beijing. Was leaping across large puddles in an effort to get back to my dorm. Inevitably chose a manhole cover to land on, slipped, and made a hash of things. Could’ve been a lot worse: I managed not only to stay dry but also keep my book-bag dry. On the debit side, my left knee is bruised and bleeding. Oh well!
Last weekend finally ventured out in into Beijing. Hopped on bus number 420 (n.b., people from India) and was off to Wang Fu Jing, Beijing’s Fifth Avenue. I have read much of China’s poverty and inequality. Here you definitely don’t witness any poverty, just one end of the extreme that makes things so unequal. Wang Fu Jing is a paved road that runs north south a couple of blocks east of the Forbidden City. On either side are a variety of stores with a variety of signs. No vehicles are allowed, everything is clean and sanitized, and there are only a handful of stalls on the road itself selling drinks and the like. This gives the street a very European feel. Matter of fact, but for the signs and the people, it could very well pass for a shopping area in a German or French city.
With me were Manfred (no, not the Ray Romano voiced wooly mammoth from Ice Age) and Becca. Manfred is also at Columbia, studying contemporary China, and Becca studies Buddhist art of the Song period at Michigan. Both live in my dorm and know way more Chinese than I do.
From Wang Fu Jing the three of us walked down to Tiananmen and the Forbidden City, or Gugong (Imperial Palace Museum) as it is known here. One has to be careful when entering the Forbidden City, not because of Mao’s wary eye, but in order to sidestep the throngs of people getting their photographs taken with the gates and Mao in the background. This has to be one of the most generic photographs taken around the world. We entered through vast doors, still probably of Qing vintage, and walked through a longish hallway and into one of the outer courtyards. Inside we found ticket stalls, some museums along the sides, as well as a small army barracks. I have to find out more about what purpose the outer courtyards served, whether they housed visiting dignitaries/embassies and the like. Walking through we entered another courtyard. At the end of this is the Gugong. The scale of the entrance and walls is quite impressive. The walls themselves are smooth and a shade of red, crowned with impressively carved buildings. The free ride ends at this point: you gots to pay if you wants to play. Given that it was already mid afternoon, we figured we’d play another time.
Several touts approached us while we were in the two courtyards. Trips to the Great Wall at Badaling, and all sorts of other touristy things on offer. I now have some sense of how tourists feel in India. It really can get a little much, all the harrying, that is.
Walking back out we ducked into a pedestrian subway and emerged onto Tiananmen. The largest public square in the world. Doesn’t seem all that much when standing on one corner, but make the effort and walk to the middle. Colossal emptiness. It truly is quite awe-inspiring. I wonder what students of architecture think about it. Everything seems far away, and there is no greenery in sight. Near the center is a huge granite pillar to the unknown/fallen soldier. While standing in front I am approached by a girl. Hello! She’d like to take a snap with me. So off I trot with her, strike a pose in front of the pillar, while her gentleman friend clicks away. Suddenly I am quite the spectacle.
Last weekend finally ventured out in into Beijing. Hopped on bus number 420 (n.b., people from India) and was off to Wang Fu Jing, Beijing’s Fifth Avenue. I have read much of China’s poverty and inequality. Here you definitely don’t witness any poverty, just one end of the extreme that makes things so unequal. Wang Fu Jing is a paved road that runs north south a couple of blocks east of the Forbidden City. On either side are a variety of stores with a variety of signs. No vehicles are allowed, everything is clean and sanitized, and there are only a handful of stalls on the road itself selling drinks and the like. This gives the street a very European feel. Matter of fact, but for the signs and the people, it could very well pass for a shopping area in a German or French city.
With me were Manfred (no, not the Ray Romano voiced wooly mammoth from Ice Age) and Becca. Manfred is also at Columbia, studying contemporary China, and Becca studies Buddhist art of the Song period at Michigan. Both live in my dorm and know way more Chinese than I do.
From Wang Fu Jing the three of us walked down to Tiananmen and the Forbidden City, or Gugong (Imperial Palace Museum) as it is known here. One has to be careful when entering the Forbidden City, not because of Mao’s wary eye, but in order to sidestep the throngs of people getting their photographs taken with the gates and Mao in the background. This has to be one of the most generic photographs taken around the world. We entered through vast doors, still probably of Qing vintage, and walked through a longish hallway and into one of the outer courtyards. Inside we found ticket stalls, some museums along the sides, as well as a small army barracks. I have to find out more about what purpose the outer courtyards served, whether they housed visiting dignitaries/embassies and the like. Walking through we entered another courtyard. At the end of this is the Gugong. The scale of the entrance and walls is quite impressive. The walls themselves are smooth and a shade of red, crowned with impressively carved buildings. The free ride ends at this point: you gots to pay if you wants to play. Given that it was already mid afternoon, we figured we’d play another time.
Several touts approached us while we were in the two courtyards. Trips to the Great Wall at Badaling, and all sorts of other touristy things on offer. I now have some sense of how tourists feel in India. It really can get a little much, all the harrying, that is.
Walking back out we ducked into a pedestrian subway and emerged onto Tiananmen. The largest public square in the world. Doesn’t seem all that much when standing on one corner, but make the effort and walk to the middle. Colossal emptiness. It truly is quite awe-inspiring. I wonder what students of architecture think about it. Everything seems far away, and there is no greenery in sight. Near the center is a huge granite pillar to the unknown/fallen soldier. While standing in front I am approached by a girl. Hello! She’d like to take a snap with me. So off I trot with her, strike a pose in front of the pillar, while her gentleman friend clicks away. Suddenly I am quite the spectacle.
Sunday, June 11, 2006
Downs of the Touch- and Settling- kind
Its been a little over a week since I got here. A time that has been both interesting and daunting. To begin with, arriving on a Friday late in the evening, with a barren weekend to get through, was not the best of ideas. Fortunately, my China savvy friend Meha was already in town so I was able to hang out with her and a friend of hers, Erin, on Saturday for a bit. One of the places we visited was Panjiayuan, one of Beijings few remaining open-air markets, and probably the biggest. It is setup like a huge roofed pavilion with hundreds of little stalls selling Chinese antiques, paintings, scrolls, and the like. Meha wanted to pick up stuff for a wedding in Delhi she was attending later in the week. Erin and I merely made up the numbers; I was quite content to not be entirely lost.
I slept through much of the rest of the weekend. In part, I am sure, because of jet lag, but also in part, I think, because of general tiredness from the end of the semester and the frenetic running around of the past few weeks.
Then of course, Monday arrived, and classes began. The first few days definitely felt like hitting a brick wall. A huge number of new words, a textbook with minimal pinyin accompanying the character text, and the general sense of dislocation that accompanies any move, all combining quite potently to leave me feeling not a little wretched.
Things have eased up a little since, though the workload definitely has not.
One of the first things that struck me about Beijing was that the sky is never (ever) blue. Pollution combined with construction dust results in a constant greyscale, much much worse than anything Delhi has conjured up thus far. Last week’s rain has brought about a pleasant change and some clear blue skies but I wonder how long that will last. Other than that, it is amazing how much like Delhi it feels. Not in the details, but in the broader brush strokes: Wide roads, flyovers, huge urban sprawl, the similar mix of urbanization interspersed with bits of the rural, cars everywhere, and so on. I have to admit though that I have not encountered livestock of any kind anywhere. But that wouldn't be surprising in China. This is, after all, the capital and they are, after all, preparing for the Olympics. In terms of infrastructure development Delhi seems about 5 years behind.
I live in a two-person suite in a dorm right by the language institute. So it is convenient in that sense. The institute itself is in Chaoyang, the business and diplomatic district of Beijing: probably the more uppity part of town (for Delhites: akin perhaps more to Malcha Marg than to Mayapuri). My suitemate, Stephen, is a French guy who works for the French Embassy. He is fluent in Chinese, but speaks in English to me most of the time. Not sure whether that is for the best. My room itself is large, has two beds, and most importantly, central AC that I can control. We’ve also split the Y150/month fee for broadband Internet. No small matter, that.
Right now am waiting for Columbia people to arrive midmonth. Will be some welcome bonhomie. Doing individual classes while great for language pedagogy, I am sure, is rather hard socially. Language study still feels like hitting a brick wall. I have four hour long classes a day, with four different teachers. They are all quite good and friendly. It is just the quantum of work that is daunting in the extreme. I already have about 200 new words to learn (and that means not only their meanings but also how to write them). What is that Hindi saying? Aa bail mujhe maar!
I slept through much of the rest of the weekend. In part, I am sure, because of jet lag, but also in part, I think, because of general tiredness from the end of the semester and the frenetic running around of the past few weeks.
Then of course, Monday arrived, and classes began. The first few days definitely felt like hitting a brick wall. A huge number of new words, a textbook with minimal pinyin accompanying the character text, and the general sense of dislocation that accompanies any move, all combining quite potently to leave me feeling not a little wretched.
Things have eased up a little since, though the workload definitely has not.
One of the first things that struck me about Beijing was that the sky is never (ever) blue. Pollution combined with construction dust results in a constant greyscale, much much worse than anything Delhi has conjured up thus far. Last week’s rain has brought about a pleasant change and some clear blue skies but I wonder how long that will last. Other than that, it is amazing how much like Delhi it feels. Not in the details, but in the broader brush strokes: Wide roads, flyovers, huge urban sprawl, the similar mix of urbanization interspersed with bits of the rural, cars everywhere, and so on. I have to admit though that I have not encountered livestock of any kind anywhere. But that wouldn't be surprising in China. This is, after all, the capital and they are, after all, preparing for the Olympics. In terms of infrastructure development Delhi seems about 5 years behind.
I live in a two-person suite in a dorm right by the language institute. So it is convenient in that sense. The institute itself is in Chaoyang, the business and diplomatic district of Beijing: probably the more uppity part of town (for Delhites: akin perhaps more to Malcha Marg than to Mayapuri). My suitemate, Stephen, is a French guy who works for the French Embassy. He is fluent in Chinese, but speaks in English to me most of the time. Not sure whether that is for the best. My room itself is large, has two beds, and most importantly, central AC that I can control. We’ve also split the Y150/month fee for broadband Internet. No small matter, that.
Right now am waiting for Columbia people to arrive midmonth. Will be some welcome bonhomie. Doing individual classes while great for language pedagogy, I am sure, is rather hard socially. Language study still feels like hitting a brick wall. I have four hour long classes a day, with four different teachers. They are all quite good and friendly. It is just the quantum of work that is daunting in the extreme. I already have about 200 new words to learn (and that means not only their meanings but also how to write them). What is that Hindi saying? Aa bail mujhe maar!
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