Saturday, December 6, 2008

Year-end

The freezing weather heralds the arrival of the festive season and the end of 2008. Christmas light-ups, year-end parties, New Year concerts… if it weren’t for these events, winter would be dull and sad. People in the street wear either black or dark blue. Willows are no longer willowy; they are shrinking like an old man. The creepers clinging to the wall are lifeless. Only the sunshine is extraordinarily bright.

Another year is going by. What is a year? It is cutting the hair short and expecting it to get long again; looking forward to spring when winter comes; departing and returning and then seeking the next destination; getting to know new people and losing touch with some others; saying goodbye to the old year and ushering in a new one.

Sunday, November 9, 2008

Family ties rediscovered

My cousins and I grew up in different cities. We only see each other once or twice a year. When my younger brother suddenly appeared in Beijing on Friday, a weird scene came to my mind: after a childish squabble, the two of us sitting back to back on a stone elephant in a park in Qingdao, reluctant to take pictures together. That was almost two decades ago. Yesterday’s shy boy has grown into a gentleman, a returnee from Australia.

My elder sister also visited Beijing two weeks ago. She used to strike me as a naïve girl in a fairy tale, with a peculiar interest in teddy bears. Today the little princess has got married, living happily ever after…

Before they came, I was wondering what we would talk about when we meet. Fill the gap left by the years? Not really. We’re all moving on.

Friends may drift apart, but for family members, there is always a tie there that binds us together, like a kite string. No matter how far we go, we are forever attached to the family.

I happen to be reading Amy Tan’s The bonesetter’s daughter recently and would like to quote a speech Ruth made at a family reunion dinner: “As the years go on, I see how much family means. It reminds us of what’s important. That connection to the past. The same jokes about being young yet getting old. The traditions. The fact that we can’t get rid of each other no matter how much we try. We’re stuck through the ages, with the bonds cemented by sticky rice and tapioca pudding.”

I’m more than happy to catch up with my cousins; it’s interesting to see them change and mature.

Sunday, October 12, 2008

A taste of summer in Singapore

Flying from Beijing to Singapore, we’ve crossed two seasons. Apart from the climate, few things impressed me during this trip. Maybe it’s because I’ve been here once; or perhaps the two countries are too much alike.

In the evening, people of different colors gathered at the open air bar in Suntec city, drinking, chatting, smoking, as if the fatigue from a day in the office would morph into air through the cigarette. Despite the humid weather, their shirts are neat and clean, just as the country is.

We were overwhelmed by the hospitality of our colleagues in Singapore. Within three days, we tried a wide variety of foods: local, Thai, Japanese… at restaurants, at the beach… wow, it’s too much. All I want is a bowl of noodles at home. It’s good to be back.

Saturday, October 4, 2008

秋分时节的一场雨,让我们告别了夏天。一夜之间,仿佛已是深秋。
几天之后便是十一长假。回到家,发现自己经很难适应海边湿冷的气候,反而怀念起北京干燥的秋天。八年了,这座城市并没有太多变化,似乎还停留在2000年我离开时的样子,而从这里走出的人已经脱胎换骨。身边的亲戚别来无恙,除了岁月隐隐约约在脸上留下的痕迹。一切都未曾改变,是我变了。

Monday, September 1, 2008

Autumn falls

No spring nor summer beauty hath such grace as I have seen in one autumnal face.

The first Monday of September marks my one year at SPE office in Landmark building. I wouldn’t call it a landmark chapter of my life, but at least it’s not bad.

The Games are over, but blue sky remains. Lush leaves are rattling in the breeze – autumn is coming. The weather is fabulous. Isn’t it a sin to squander this golden season indoors?

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Day 4: Sunny

My memories about the Olympic Games are always connected to the summer holidays, those idyllic days in my hometown many years ago. I don’t remember much about the matches themselves. They seemed to be games for grown-ups.

Somehow I missed the Athens Games. That year I graduated and could no long return home and enjoy a long holiday. Perhaps a first job and a first summer in BJ were much more exciting than any sports event.

4 years later, the freshness is long gone. And since the Olympics are happening on our doorstep, I won’t miss them again.

This time I find most athletes are younger than I. Still, I marvel at their confidence and courage; share their joy and despair. All the pride and agony, laughter and tears, blood and sweat are written on their faces, more vivid than any Oscar winner, more impressive than any Hollywood fluff.

I kind of like BJ in this special period: smooth traffic, empty buses and streets (at least on the east third ring road). It’s a slack summer outside the gyms.

Saturday, August 2, 2008

August Rush

Beijing’s preparation for the Olympics is culminating. The capital looks great after the facelift, as though she were a bride dressed up for the wedding. She has impressive dowry: the bird’s nest, the water cube, T3 at the airport… ok, no more fanfares; we’ve had enough.

The Games is so influential that it has overshadowed everything and mobilized everybody. One thing I find interesting is the volunteers popped up recently. Every morning on my way to the office, I can see a boy in blue standing at the street corner, next to Sheraton hotel. He’s actually doing nothing, because there’s nothing for him to do. When I’m off work 9 hours later, he’s still there, looking like a scarecrow. I’m wondering what kind of punishment it is for this boy to stand under the sky blanketed with smog-or-cloud-we-don’t-know in such sultry weather for such a long day. What's the big deal?

Sunday, July 20, 2008

Blind date

Before adding the title, I looked up the word “blind date” in Collins dictionary, which says: “A blind date is an arrangement made for you to spend a romantic evening with someone you have never met before.” I can’t help laughing reading the explanation because ironically, it’s not usually the case. I’d rather use a more accurate Chinese word “相亲”.

Females, from young girls to old ladies, have an unfathomable keenness on matchmaking. Simply speaking, it’s a boy & girl mix & match game. If someone like me is considered too old to be single, he or she will become the target, like a tube of toothpaste being put on the supermarket shelf, waiting to be picked up.

But sadly, women’s shelf life is relatively shorter, especially in China. Thanks to our enthusiastic wanna-be matchmakers, the rules have been minimized. This family has a son; that one a daughter and they live in the same city, that’s it! Even though the matchmaker herself might have met either.

Given this fact, the odds of meeting the right person are very small. It’s embarrassing to see two strangers sitting face to face racking their brains to find out what they have in common. The longest distance in the world is probably that a supposed-to-be couple gazes at each other across the coffee table, feeling like they hail from two planets.

Pray you won’t meet a stalker. Be grateful when you meet someone normal. Never ever expect a “romantic evening”.

Sunday, July 6, 2008

An update

When I went to Shanghai in late March, I discovered some brands never seen in Beijing, Muji, Uniqlo, Hooters… Two months later, I was roaming around the streets and was surprised to find these logos hanging on brand new buildings. The city moves so fast, as if someone had pressed the fast-forward button.

A couple of weeks ago I went to Houhai in the evening. Hutongs, Siheyuans, pedicabs and boats seemed to have slowed the tempo of life here. If it weren’t for the rain, the sunset on Yindingqiao must be beautiful. I was thinking if I were a tourist, I would love it.

Saturday, June 7, 2008

Mirrormask

When I woke up in the morning and saw sunlight slanting through the curtain, I knew it was time for a break. So I’m having a whole week off.

I always do things on a whim. Don’t want to complicate my life with plans and changes, just as I never entangle my neck or wrists with those girlish bling-blings.

That summer on my way home after work, I caught sight of a guy in a swanky car at the crossing of Guanghua Rd, and then the following weekend I was already in the driving school. I wish I could have more such whims. But few things interest me; few people attract my attention. I shrug and say “sorry, I’m not interested” too often.

Of course I can’t say it aloud; there’s a mask I’m wearing. Writing is like a mirror, through which I can see myself clearly.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

Back to Shanghai

五月的最后三天在上海度过。又听到了软绵绵的上海话,闻到了空气中湿湿的味道。

29号的晚餐是在高邮路上一家很有情调的餐厅吃的,听名字就很fancy,叫做花马天堂。然后来到浦东,蜻蜓点水般走过那些两个月前刚刚来过的地方。正大广场、滨江大道,一切都那么熟悉,只是找不回上一次雨后在清冷的江边漫步的感觉。还不够尽兴,于是来到新天地。三月底来的时候,不知是因为天气冷还是时间太早,酒吧很是清净。而这次一整条街,居然很难找到露天的空位。其实北京的三里屯应该也一样,只是没有机会去发现。并不喜欢这种嘈杂如闹市的环境,相比之下,星级酒店大堂吧那种悠闲的气氛更让人放松。后来来到一个名叫TMSK的bar,算是同事小聚。很久没有喝红酒了,突然发现几口之后浑身暖暖的感觉很舒服。

出差的行程总是安排得满满的,周六能有机会跟好友见面,已经很难得,不敢奢望更多。酒店对面就是中山公园,其实在北京的时候从来没有逛公园的心情,但到了外地便会做一些平时不会尝试的事情。这几天一直风和日丽,公园里极富生活气息,有人在划船、放风筝、踢足球、打羽毛球、弹吉他、晒太阳。。。在这里感觉不到孤单。可惜时间太短,要走的时候很舍不得,能留下记忆的只剩相机里的几张照片了。如果有时间,会多走几条街,看看街边的老房子。记得有人写过这样一句话:"In Shanghai, half the fun of getting to where you were going, lay in the journey itself. Beijingers, it seemed, were only interested in the final destination." 的确是这样。不知下次再来这个花花世界,会是什么时候。

Thursday, May 22, 2008

The earthquake

I felt dizzy all of a sudden and was thinking probably I needed some candies. Earthquake was the last word that would occur to me. The pendant lamp was shaking – it was so surreal yet real.

The news that the epicenter was in Sichuan sounded implausible, but true. In the blink of an eye, the obscure town became the focus of the country. By the way, where is the torch? Few seem to care.

Being thousands of miles away, I didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation until the government announced 3 days of mourning for the victims. All newspapers and websites became black-and-white; entertainment TV channels turned dumb, cinemas and bars were closed…

Many people donated money. But one thing I can’t figure out is why taking a record? Even if I had one million to donate, I wouldn’t want my name to be exposed on the little red board.

Today things are getting back to normal, slowly though. May the victims rest in peace and the survivors be strong.

Sunday, May 4, 2008

The unbearable heaviness of shopping

It’s a short Labor Day holiday, but people’s shopping frenzy is totally unaffected. The day before May 1st, they were queuing at the ATMs, warming up for the battles at various shopping malls. What a sign of the booming economy! But the hordes of customers kill all my desire for things and I usually end up home empty-handedly.

Now I’m in favor of online shopping. Clothes, cosmetics, books, household appliances… anything you can think of are delivered right at your door. At first I thought I got addicted, but later I realize it’s become a habit. It saves time on traveling in this enormous city and saves me from breathing in too many noxious gases.

The only place I frequent is the Carrefour 10 minutes away from where I live. But never dare I go at weekends. I hate the endless queue there, or I hate myself for not having the patience to queue. Ugh!

Tuesday, April 29, 2008

Tender is the night

The buffet coupon at the Westin brings me to financial street, a place I rarely set foot on. The tranquility of this area is a far cry from the hustle of the CBD. Maybe it’s secluded because of the supremacy of the central bank, or the luxury of Lane Crawford.

The lights are faint inside the hotel; music is floating in the air. The only visible figures are the bar singers in red, red as the little girl’s coat in Schindler’s list. The staff are over courteous, if not snobbish.

People show their true colors in front of the buffet table. We tend to commit two of the seven deadly sins: gluttony and greed. He who can resist the great variety of foods must be a saint. Forget about manners, and to hell with dieting! We don’t eat at five star hotels every day.

It’s already late when we leave. The two girls are still crooning in the bar. Walking down to Changanjie, the whirr of cars wakes me up. The night feels like a dream in a city within Beijing.

Thursday, April 10, 2008

Il y a longtemps que...

When I finally got used to the number 8 on the calendar, it’s already April. Time whizzes by like sand running through the hourglass.

Whenever there was a college reunion, it was mostly about the 5Ws and an H. It’s been long since we last heard from each other. The lives of others sound wonderful.

Couldn’t see sunset these days because of the cloudy weather. Miss the spring twilight.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Shanghai impression

十几年前第一次来上海,便爱上了这里,因为她的繁华,因为她的精致。那时还没有浦东,也没有磁悬浮,东方明珠刚刚建起。

再一次来到这里,早已没有了当年的震撼。小时候走过的地方,居然没有留下印象。外滩的游人依旧熙熙攘攘,只是东方明珠在灰蒙蒙的天空下有些黯然失色。很幸运见到了即将被拆掉的外白渡桥,但遗憾的是已经不能在桥上走一走。

其实一直喜欢上海多过北京。这里少了几分政治气氛,多了几分浪漫和暧昧。雨后夜晚的滨江大道美得让人陶醉,没有了白天的喧哗,仿佛时间停滞。如果黄浦江增添了这座城市的灵气,那么老洋房则赋予了她沧桑感。东方古典和西方现代完美地结合,就连新天地的Starbucks都显得别具一格。相比之下,北京就像一座围城,一些不伦不类的地标性建筑孤零零地矗立其中,却并不协调。

如果不是因为上海漫长的夏季,也许不会选择北京。只有北京冬天那彻骨的冷,才能让我清醒。当夜晚回北京的飞机在空中盘旋的时候,突然发现这个我生活了将近八年的城市,夜景也很美。

人在一个地方呆得太久,会变得麻木。旅行也只不过是暂时的逃避,行走之后,终究还是要回到现实的。

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

Saving fish from drowning

God must be furious to turn the sky into the eerie color of beige. All the windows were shut and the whole building was like a gas chamber. Soon I’ll be on my getaway.

Just finished Amy Tan’s saving fish from drowning. A story so touching and mesmerizing it changed my perception on fictions. I thought I didn’t like novels, but I underestimated myself. I just didn’t find my niche. Novels in fact can be as real as memoirs.

It’s a nice surprise to find an author that I identify with and know a character that I have empathy for. Reading the last chapter of a favorite book feels like bidding farewell to a long-known friend. All good things come to an end.

An excerpt:
…It was a year after I started university life, and I had returned home at Sweet Ma's command to join the family celebration of the Autumn Festival, what is traditionally a time of thanksgiving. Now here we were, my father and brothers and I, at the usual gathering of distant relatives and Chinese friends, both longtime citizens and the recently immigrated. We were in the backyard of a second cousin's house in Menlo Park, about to view the full moon rise. We carried paper lanterns with sputtering candles, and walked toward the swimming pool. And in that pool, I saw the moon appear and shimmer, a golden melon and not just a flat disc, as it had always appeared to me before. I heard people moan with happiness. I saw their mouths pop open, the rims of their eyes drip with tears.

My mouth was closed, my eyes were dry. I could see the moon as clearly as they, and I could even appreciate its special glories. But why didn't I flood in the same way? Why was their happiness tenfold what I felt? Did I lack the proper connection between the senses and the heart?

And then I realized that this was my habit. To hold back my feelings. To keep my knees from buckling. And with that knowledge, I was ready to feel whatever I wanted, as fully as I wanted. I gazed at the moon and willed myself to feel all the emotions. I waited for joy and awe to wash over me. I was determined, I was ready, I was anticipating, expecting, hoping . . . but nothing happened. My legs stood strong and straight.

Sunday, March 2, 2008

Vision Beijing

Not a day goes by but I hear or see the ^O^ word. If the Games were a religion, I might have already been converted to Olympicism.

The other night I watched a program called Vision Beijing. 5 famous directors, 5 short films, yet none impressed me.

Under the lens of the Iranian director, the school kids are smiling radiantly, but don’t they have loads of homework to do?

In Lau’s film, the foods look enticing and the variety is eye-opening. But I suppose for the ordinary people, many of those elaborate dishes are extravagances.

It’s good the directors have captured these beautiful moments, but some faces shouldn’t be neglected. They are migrant workers jostling in the buses at 6am, compound security guards stamping their feet to keep out the cold, delivery boys cycling in the snow, listless subway commuters rushing to work… Without them, Beijing wouldn’t be what it is today.

Maybe I’ve outgrown the city, or the country. Sometimes feel suffocated in the smog, under the roaring flyover, at the swarming crossing, in the crowded supermarket, in the office without a view…

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Fate, inescapable

The eye by the Pang brothers is not the type of movie that can be remade. HK horror movies often contain elements of ghosts, their pre-existence and afterlife, karma and reincarnation, as in the eye 2, which is a completely different story and much spookier. These concepts are ingrained in China’s thousands of years of culture and can’t be copied by any movie technique. (Similarly, there will never be a Chinese remake of the exorcist or the omen.)


However, the fatalistic ending of the eye reminds me of the final destination series. Most mainstream American movies I’ve seen are positive and uplifting, like the pursuit of happyness, Apocalypto… People fight for a better life. But final destination is atypical. So I imdbed it and found the answer: the director-cum-writer is from HK, too.

Thursday, February 21, 2008

"Are you hot? I'm so hot!"

Miss Chen was a lovely stocky girl, like a female version of Garfield jumping out of the comic book, much diligent, though.

She was an intern helping with a PR project. We were receiving an agricultural delegation from the EU and their last day’s schedule was a trip to the Great Wall. Each intern was assigned to accompany a guest during the visit.

It was a warm spring day in late March. Chen seemed excited about being a tour guide. The view was stunning, but the stairs were too high for her and within a few minutes, she was dripping with sweat.

Then in the middle of the Great Wall, she turned to the guest and asked in a hospitable tone, with a smile on her chubby cheeks:

“Hey, are you hot? I’m so hot!”

The guy must be taken aback. Yes, she was hot in the gaudy dress that day.

I’m not poking fun at her. It was her sense of humor that made the trip we took 4 years ago so vivid and memorable.

Saturday, February 16, 2008

Bad education

Science or art? This is a choice I was faced with ten years ago. Fast-forward to 1998, after the first year in high school, we had to choose between the two. Besides Chinese, English and mathematics, which were compulsory subjects, science students focused on physics and chemistry, while art students on history and politics.

I chose science without hesitation. I couldn’t stand the dates and historical events being drummed into me and learning everything by rote. Or maybe the darkness of the Middle ages and the resplendence of Renaissance Europe were too far away for a 16-year-old. I actually wasn’t interested in science either. I struggled in byzantine physical theories and fell asleep over chemistry formulas.

So you can imagine how miserable my high school life would be. 12 classes a day, 7am to 9pm, Monday to Sunday, Jan to Dec. The only spare time was Sunday afternoon. If I could call that spare time.

Despite my stupidity on certain subjects, I was pretty good at English. So after graduation, I chose English as my major. It was a miracle. I survived and finally broke out of the prison.

When I entered university, I found myself being surrounded by elites from all over the country. I was jealous of those with deep philosophical thoughts and admired those who can reel off history. I shouldn’t have wasted my youth on science exercises. What good did it do to me? Logical thinking? Hopefully.

When it comes to making choices, there is no right or wrong. It is always the not-so-wise choices that teach us something and we grow mature in these lessons. And coming of age is not necessarily a bad thing. It gives us the right to choose what we want to do and give up what we don’t.

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Friendship beyond time

We have known each other for ten years, one year in the same classroom, and another two in the same high school. After graduation, we went our own ways. She studied in Qingdao and works in Shanghai. I’m in Beijing.

Last time we met, it was 4 or 5 years ago. But neither time nor distance can separate us. That’s the power of friendship. Real friends don’t change with time. When we get together again, the years just disappear and we quickly reconnect. That’s the magic of friendship. She helped me get through the hardest period. That’s the value of friendship.

题外话
经常会遇到很像的人:有人长得像,有人说话像,有人性格像,有人感觉像。老同学,老同事,新同事,新客户。。。好像在世界的某个角落,每个人都有自己的一面镜子。偶尔会在茫茫人海中看到一张似曾相识的脸,却不敢相认,因为不相信会有这样的巧合。于是就这样擦肩而过,或者他们本身就是我们生命中的过客。不曾相逢,是缘分未到;相逢却不相识,是有缘无分。

Thursday, February 7, 2008

Annual greetings

Chinese New Year’s eve is the busiest night for my mobile phone. Thanks to SMS, it makes holiday greetings easy and efficient. Just a few thumb movements on the keypad, voila!

However, it’s weird to be addressed by a close friend with “nin” because we never talk like that. There’re also texts from acquaintances with whom I only get connected on this day. When greetings are mass produced, where can I find sincerity?

The childhood happiness of wearing new clothes on New Year’s Day, being amazed by splendid fireworks under the stars, receiving red packets from the elders… has gone forever. Nian doesn’t mean a lot to us jaded modern people any more.

Saturday, February 2, 2008

The holiday

Work as if there were no tomorrow because tomorrow is the holiday.

The holiday is not always as romantic as Nancy Meyers' film. The rough working days before and after that, the chaotic transportation, the long and tortuous way home, the annual holiday routines…

The good thing is I can finally see some old friends.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Dating a client? No!

A prequel to my last post

There were eyes on me. I could feel it. I hate people staring at me that way, rude and overbearing, like a predator.

It was a ski trip with clients. The pair of eyes followed me from the ski field to the cafeteria…

“Are you a fresh grad?”
“No, I’ve been working for almost four years.” I may look like a teenage girl wearing two pigtails. But don’t judge a book by its cover.

“Are you married?” He asked, no, interrogated.
“No.” Huh, straight to the point.

“What’s your msn?”

The next Monday on msn

“Today is my birthday.”
“Oh, happy birthday!” What a coincidence and how dramatic!
“Why not have dinner with me and say that in person?”
“Hmm, I don’t think it’s necessary.”

“What do you do for fun at weekends?”
“Stay home.”
“Do you like bowling?”
“I’m not interested in sports.”
“Do you like karaoke?”
“No.”
“You are so introvert?!”
Ha, I see the connotation here: what a freak you are!

I am who I am. I won’t love something just because the majority loves it. Sorry, you are not my type. Our company will organize other trainings in the future. We may meet again. But it’s just business.

Saturday, January 26, 2008

One night in Beijing

All fancy restaurants were fully booked at Friday night. Never would I know the night in Beijing had I stayed in my apartment.

Loft reminded me of Eight over Eight in Sanlitun, the guests who came all the way from France in the early winter of 2004, Catherine who said the place was for lovers to break up, Betty haggling with the Italian restaurant manager with her broken English…Shining wine glasses on polished mahogany tables under pale yellow lights didn’t appeal to me; they felt lofty.

I don’t like business socializing. I’m always a quiet listener, an attentive observer. Having met more and more people, I gradually have the eye to judge. The sophistication of our clients from CITVC astonished me. How can environment shape a person? Change a person? We were the same back at school, but those years in society can make a person unrecognizable. My cousins and old classmates whom I haven’t heard of for years must be like strangers to me today.

Saturday, January 12, 2008

Movies, pictures, memories

Gladiator, on HBO last night. This is the first film I watched in university, in Beijing, 7 1/2 years ago. The same movie, a different me. The scene I walked into the screen room on the 4th floor of the library with my roommates was still etched in my mind. It’s weird. I have bad memory, but some ordinary moments in the past just linger there…

The past three years with a diary seems alive; is it the diary that makes it so, or it really is? But the 18 years in my hometown is dim, as if I had slept them away. All I can remember is the dingy classroom, mountains of books on the desks, clouds of chalk dust dancing in front of my eyes… Maybe I just don’t want to leave any space for that period – it was locked deep in my subconscious.

Then the four years in Beiwai is something I’d like to keep forever… Those memories are like pebbles on the beach, waiting to be collected. I’m so afraid they would be washed away by the tide of time.

Last month I found an album with pictures of me at school. Alas, I can barely remember my classmates’ names. Shattered memories…

Sunday, January 6, 2008

No title

The most comfy way of writing is lying inclined to a pillow with the laptop on my thighs on a cold winter day. A fireplace in the room would be nicer. Then my thoughts begin to wander around. It’s all but a temporary escape from reality. I treasure every moment I can calm down and do some writing, with the sunlight casting in…

Don’t know how to start this new page because nothing new has ever happened yet. Don’t wanna go out; nothing is more pleasant than snuggle into bed and enjoy the sunshine of winter.

I spent the whole weekend huddling in the sofa watching dvds, dazzled by different stories and styles. Movie is a healer to loners.