Yesterday, I woke up and it was sunny. Well, as sunny as I have seen Beijing anyway; I could actually see the blue that I love so much, the blue I have been missing these last few weeks, the blue only the sky can give you. The smile that shines from my heart seeing this blue radiates to my face and out to the world…I am off to enjoy this sun even if it four degrees out there. I am going to the Summer Palace, a place of calm and nature and loveliness in the middle of this heinous city. I say heinous because Beijing and I are having a little bit of trouble in our relationship at the moment. Maybe it will pass, but its an everyday battle.
The open space of the Palace is like a dream. I have been in the city too long. I have been here two weeks. The sun struggles to shine through the polluted sky and when it does get through, it may only be for a couple hours. A couple glorious and wonderful city filled hours. The birds and the trees love the open air as do I. I find a perch high above the goings on below and take in Kunming Lake and the bridges and causeways in the distance. The air is warm, unseasonably so and it seems, for a moment, I have found a calm in the mad mad adjustment period I have warring in Beijing. Adjustment is an understatement.
Let me tell you why: Everyone smokes here. And I live in constant fear of being spit on. Not because I am American, but because everyone spits…EVERYONE. All the time, its spit or smoke. Its dirty and a city and I don’t speak Chinese…well…at all and when I do, AH… And for goodness sake, what was I thinking coming here in the winter. Anyway, I will spare you much more of the hate parade because now it appears, as I sit in the crisp but not cold air, that I can do this. I can find my breath in the midst of this insanity, I can and will beat this feeling of lonesome, why-the-heck-am–I-in-this-crazy-China and why-the-heck-do-I-not-just-recognize-that-I-am-not-a-city-person.
I have several uninterrupted minutes of breathe and serenity and lovely fall afternoon air. Thank you. And then I look down and a bird has pooped on me. I am not even kidding. Beijing…you are out to get me aren’t you?
I don’t let it get to me though; I move on, and out from underneath the tree, and take a long walk around the lake. The grounds are huge and its clear to me that I will be back here at the Palace often. It will be my refuge from the dark, scary, dirty city. And maybe that bird pooped on me this time, but I bet every other time, Beijing, its pooped on you. So there.
I won't let this city thing get me down; its just more fun to be a hater sometimes. It makes the little things so much better. Today, on the subway, a guy and his guitar serenaded the train so beautifully everyone was silent and even the cell phones were put away. It was magic. And I smile. We all did.
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