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.

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.

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.

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。

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?

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.

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?