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| Gulou (Drum Tower) |
Beijing. An ambush on the senses that puts American cities to shame - no wonder we [Americans] feel so blasé about our surroundings that for lack of creativity seem manifested from singular streams of consciousness (or perhaps it's just me?). Beijing is a place unlike any other, a surreptitious beacon of debilitating metaphysical stimulation transpiring into the realm of reality. Centuries old temples and hutongs loom in stark contrast to glimmering glass and steel skyscrapers abutted by bustling shopping malls mega-arenas. The sour taste of communism usurped by sweet capitalist enterprise, evident by zealous young people touting their Louis Vuitton bags and zipping their exotic sports cars past 80-year-old [peasants] collecting recyclables to put on their 'pick-up' bicycles. The affluent come home to apartments adorned in marbles, granites, rich woods and crystal chandeliers, greeted by their ayi(s) [live-in servants] while the peasant slowly pedals to their one room home down a narrow, dirty alleyway. THIS is the REAL CHINA.
It's difficult to convey in words my reflections on a long, drawn-out experience that for better or worse not only shapes one's transition to adulthood but also weaves his fibers of what can only be described as 'cultural character,' that is, extinguishing all concept of precognition in favor of embracing self-devotion to opening one's mind for all life's possibilities. I am but one of many whom have experienced this 'je-ne-sais-quoi' in China, her energy measured in units of foregone bias and life-changing friendships. For all that was my time in Beijing, I embrace that which I came to love in this first installment - Beijing: The Good.
