That's Mandarin!

Here's the thing that I am beginning to understand about myself in Beijing. I need something or someone to push me along; to set me on the course; to kick my butt into gear, but with respect, please.  I know, you're thinking, I knew that about you at least five blog posts ago. But, Beijing is a major, massive city, unlike any in which I have lived or visited. Yet, there exist tiny pockets of familiarity between the hutongs and the traffic circles. My internal struggle lies between cozying up to the status quo on my couch each day and motivating myself to try the new and unexplored on my own. Ah! See! Beijing and I are alike in this way -- we are constantly balancing the old and safe and comfortable with the new, the sometimes scary and the always exciting. OK. So Beijing is doing it on a much, much grander scale. I'll try to keep some perspective as I search for motivation and confidence.

When we first arrived - I'm talking about when we stepped off the plane at 1:00 in the afternoon, struggling with our luggage all the way, finding myself in a cab all by myself to who knows where - I was a bit disappointed with the view. In fact, I was a bit disappointed the first week we were here. It might be because we had to roll up our sleeves and start searching right away for a place to live. There was no soft introduction to Beijing city living. But I wanted to know,  Where were the fragrant cherry blossoms? The ladies fan dancing on the corner with their hair all done up? When could I schedule my first, second, third spa appointment I heard so much about before we departed? Where were the early morning tai chi students? Where were the happy children playing in parks with their doting and wise grandparents? The old men enjoying the end of summer nights playing card games and drinking beers? Where were the gilded gates and historic temples? Where were the red lanterns and festival lights? I saw only smog and dirt. I saw high rise apartments all around me that looked as if they haven't had a good scrubbing in decades. Inside some of those same buildings and courtyards, and felt crushed by what I could see only as lonely, cramped, smokey darkness. I felt like I was being suffocated by too many of the wrong kinds of choices, and Z and I were trapping ourselves into those little tight decision boxes. And then we switched gears, and made some elbow room for ourselves, and we built new boxes. We talked about what we wanted, and what we didn't want, instead of just going through the motions like starved zombies. We stopped worrying about what the landlords and real estate agents must think of us and whether we were wasting anyone's time. So, of course you know, we found an apartment and the stuff to put inside that place to call it home. But as much as we are paying to live here, and as much as I like my new couch and chairs, it's not enough to say you lived in China if you only sat inside all day...after day...after day.

And then I switched gears, again. I started to see all the tiny details that form the greater parts of Beijing. That is when I started enjoying my time here -- visiting the parks and temples, the family restaurant around the corner and the shopping markets. What's more important right now, is that I am starting to do it on my own. There is a bustling, bright food market just steps away from our front door. The seafood vendor sells live shrimp jumping up by the handful; patrons ride away with fresh green cabbages and long brown earthy taro roots hanging from their bicycle baskets; mangosteen fruits and kiwis are sold by the dozens. The market's sea of stalls and vendors are set up every morning, and after only a few hours, the entire place is wiped out like it never existed.

I started to see all the tiny details that form the greater parts of this city because I stopped worrying about what and how I thought Beijing and China were supposed to look and feel. If you have never been here, forget any pre-conceived notions you may have about Beijing. Forget about the crowding, the traffic, the noise and the smog. Also, forget about the romantic notions you have about Asia in general. All those things will slip into the background when you start to recognize how the little details are more important, more exciting, more worthy of your time.

There are surprises on every block in this city. There is also construction on every block. Somewhere in the middle of the Old Beijing and the New Beijing you can find anything, I'm convinced. So now I see that cherry blossoms don't come out until April; the card games in my neighborhood start around 7:00 PM and last all through the night if you can handle the drinking; tai chi is practiced much earlier than I allow myself to rise from my slumber these days; the fan dancing takes place on cool nights, groups of adults magically appearing outside this or that random restaurant while I'm inside dining; and there's a gilded gate that leads right to my apartment.

I signed up for yoga classes and I took my first Mandarin language class today, too. Man, a little bit of self confidence goes a long way.