Counting places I've resided for 8 weeks or more, I've lived in 15 different locations since the year 2000. Stupider still, I've moved even more times, since every time I've left the country or studied somewhere for the summer I've packed everything up and stored it in little rabbit holes scattered across Seattle and the Midwest, only to dig it out a few months later with the help of very patient and generous relatives and friends. This last move was relatively painless, if a bit sweaty, but all those taxi rides got me thinking about my peripatetic ways and the many places I've called home.
Much of this went down in the pre-digital age, or at least what was the pre-digital age for me, so I can't share with you the view from the pink tower in Bellingham that looked over the Bay, the fantastic Spitalfields neighborhood where I spent my last 3 months in London, or the big beautiful co-operative house in Ann Arbor where I passed a summer eating from the garden, practicing my characters, and thinking Utopian thoughts.
I'm quite sad to leave the place that was my home here for 10 months, but I'm also finding quite a few things to like about my new digs. Here then, primarily for my own edification, a side-by-side comparison of the relative merits of the two apartments in Beijing that have housed me; Wen Cheng Jie Zuo, my former home, and Shui Mu Qing Hua Yuan, my new abode.
Category: BUILDING
On the left, tower A of the mighty Wen Cheng Jie Zuo, where I resided on the 9th floor. On the left, building 4 of the Bauhaus wannabe Shui Qing Mu Hua Yuan, where I reside on the 8th floor.
Advantage: WEN CHENG JIE ZUO
Category: COUCH
On the left, a pleather cousin of the Pee Wee's playhouse couch. On the right, a fabric-covered distant relation.
Both couches are extremely comfortable, but considering the high likelihood of stickiness during a Beijing summer, its going to have to be...
Advantage: SHUI QING MU HUA YUAN
Category: ITEMS OF "ART" INCLUDED WITH THE FURNISHINGS
On the left, two giant tacky vases that Jessica and I were forever trying to hide in a corner. One the right, a portly golfing pig.
Advantage: Duh, SHUI QING MU HUA YUAN
Category: BEDROOM
On the left, the capacious sun-drenched bed and giant window of Wen Cheng Jie Zuo. On the right, the perfectly serviceable room and back-killing bed of my current residence.
Advantage: WEN CHENG JIE ZUO
Category: VIEW FROM BEDROOM WINDOW
On the left, the grounds of the Institute for Semiconductor Research with the Summer Palace and mountains in the background (on an uncommonly clear day). On the right, Haidian high-rises and a dystopian smokestack.
I kind of like the red lights that blink from atop the smokestack every night and how they remind me of the Space Needle, but it's still no contest.
Advantage: WEN CHENG JIE ZUO
Category: LANDLORD
On the left, Mr. Li the merciless, on the right, Mr. Dan the promising young scholar
who has yet to give me copies of his Xinjiang pictures.
Advantage: SHUI QING MU HUA YUAN
Category: HUTONG
Hutong means alley in Chinese and it has traditionally been used to refer to the one-story courtyard houses linked by narrow alleyways that made up old Beijing. I'm too lazy to give you a proper history, but you can get the basics
here, see pictures one of the many pre-Olympic demolitions and renovations
here or
here, and get the official spin
hereGoing to school in the morning from Wen Cheng Jie Zuo I had to pass through a hutong to take a shortcut to the northeast gate of the school. This hutong had its charms, but was also extremely smelly (one characteristic of hutong living is dependence on public toilets of varying quality), and the road was wide enough that cars would often use it as a shortcut, upsetting all the rest of the pedestrian and bike traffic and causing huge hassles during the morning commute. On the left, one of the streets that branched off this main road, with a colorful line of clothing drying in what passed for sun one polluted spring day.
Leaving my new house, I have to go through a hutong to get out to the main street on the way to school via the south gate. On the right is the entrance to the hutong from off Chengfu road. There is always a group of old men squatting or sitting on very low stools there, smoking, playing checkers, or chatting about anything and everything, displaying the talents for talk often attributed to native Beijingers. As I passed by them today, these guys were discussing China's Olympic volleyball team.
My new hutong is leafier, cleaner, and much less smelly than the old one, although that might have something to do with the daily summer rains. All the vendors I've met have been friendly and I know I'll be buying most of my produce and the occasional fresh noodles or sticky buns in the hutong on my way home everyday.
Coming back from the gym last night I stopped at a stand lit by one electric bulb, selecting a few fresh eggs and mangoes and trying out some colloquialisms I'd learned recently on the pot-bellied and be-whiskered old vendor. A stray cat walked along the wall above, casting a giant shadow on the brick residence behind. It was just one of those perfect China moments.
Advantage: SHUI QING MU HUA YUAN
FINAL RECKONING:
Let's call it even and go to sleep, shall we?
I was hypnotized by the pen with an ultraviolet light that I bought on the train. Later, I used it to check the authenticity of all the bills in my wallet. Fun.
It was completely surreal to arrive in Gansu and be greeted by a long line of applauding schoolchildren.
Our reception at the second school was similarly overwhelming.
This chalkboard was a project of the school's top class English students. It reads:
The base of one of the heated Kang beds in Lao Zhang's house.
This dude was just standing there feeling up the mannequin for the longest time.
I would have killed for this outfit when I was 6.
The old man whose goat Rachel contemplated buying.
Looking out over Linxia from the temple on the hill.
Their local mosque:
Arabic lessons at a much larger mosque elsewhere in the city. The banner above the chalkboard reads: "please turn off your cell phone, unless its Allah calling", ok maybe not that last part.
Evening prayer
Inside the cavernous library of wooden printing blocks, still very much in use today.
Dan with Monkchkin.
Based on what the Chinese says, it appears they meant to say "No pissing".
Lady construction workers, a not uncommon sight.
Me and Dan outside the caves:
More flaming mountains:
The Turpan oasis:
The musical fountain provided a festive backdrop for dinner and beers.
After the show was over, a local policemen kept on eye on the crowds, resting beneath a neon sign that reads: "Scientific development, constructing harmony".
