Fire fire!

While I was happily sipping my green tea over lunch, a young waitress caught on fire. I didn’t see how exactly, I think she was refilling a meths burner on someone’s table. There was a huge, ceiling high cloud of flames as a combination of her nylon uniform and the large meths bottle went up a treat.

No-one in the growing crowd seemed to know what to do with the poor girl, who had pretty much frozen from the shock.  The flames were smaller now, steadily eating away at her clothes and she was eerily silent. After the initial surprise, I jumped up and went over to try and encourage her onto the floor to help put out the fire. However, she didn’t want to go! And why would she listen to a wildly gesturing foreigner with crazy ideas?

I felt like I could hear the seconds ticking by, dreading the injuries she might be sustaining with every passing moment. Thankfully someone found a broom and began beating the flames out. She was ushered to one side and some colleagues herded her to the sink where they feebly splashed water on her arm and cooed over her somewhat reduced fringe. Very luckily, that appeared to be the extent of the damage. She still hadn’t made a sound.

Feeling like there was very little we could do, given our lack of mandarin, we retired to our tea pot. We were left wondering how on earth a hot pot restaurant, which has stoves on every table, has not a single fire extinguisher or fire blanket? Not even a handy bucket of water or sand? Why is no-one in the whole place trained in first aid, or putting out fires? And why are the waitresses all wearing highly flammable uniforms?

Half an hour or so later, the injured girl re-emerged, got into a taxi and was, I hope, taken to hospital. To my absolute horror, there was a dry, white fluffy towel draped around her burned arm. Writing this now, I feel terrible that I didn’t do more to help her. I could have plunged her arm into the fish tank! That would have been far more effective than little splashes from a tap. I could have taken the fluffy towel, wet it and put it back. But the language barrier is so great and these ideas so foreign. Why would she or her colleagues have allowed me to do any of these things? Should I have tried harder?

We might get fed up with the sometimes over-zealous health and safety laws in England, but the responsibility and duty of care that employers legally have for their employees is literally life-saving.  

Before I left England a friend, who lived in China for a while, advised me to try not to get too emotionally involved in things I might see here, because there’s nothing one can do to change it. Today, for the first time, I remembered his advice. 

Think happy thoughts!

I’ve had a few disappointments and down days recently. Instead of blogging about what has made me miserable, I’m going to grit my teeth and think of some positive things to say. Here are some nice things that happened recently:

1. Cycling home from work in the cool night air last night, I looked up at the sky. It seemed to be alive with twinkling stars. Checking no-one was about to step in front of my bike, I took a longer look. They weren’t stars, they were kites: special night time, lit-up kites flying very high in the sky, their glowing tails flickering in red, white and blue. A handsome sight which brought me a smile.

2. I met a colleague today with a delectable northern English accent. In an ocean of Chinglish, it was like listening to music!

3. Having got over the disappointment of a series of stultifyingly bad Chinese lessons, I braved a new class. It was really excellent- interesting, relevant, pitched at the right level and good fun to boot. My brain fired up at the stimulation and I relished every stimulating second of it!

4. Today, for the first time in 5 and a half months, I was cold. I got caught in a thunder shower and as people ran past me holding things over their heads, I slowed down to a stroll.  I stopped to listen to the thunder and breathe in the same earthy smell you get when it rains  heavily in England. There's something so universal and healing about heavy rain. More please! (but not too much!!!)

5. National week is coming up... To celebrate the anniversary of the formation of the People’s Republic of China, the entire billion-strong nation gets 4 days off. Given the general scarcity of annual leave, this is a real special treat. Add my weekend on top, and I now have a blissful 6 day break. Aah. Someone put the kettle on!

There- I've done it! That wasn’t too difficult! 

Water, water, everywhere and not a drop to drink!

I’ve travelled to many places and been told “Don’t drink the tap water!” only to see the locals bemused at my buying bottles of the stuff. But here in Beijing, even the locals won’t drink it. It only seems sensible to follow suit so apart from brushing my teeth in, it never passes my lips. Instead, we painstakingly haul all our drinking water up 6 flights of stairs.

It always strikes me as bizarre, in a city which is developed in so many ways, to see people queuing to refill their water containers from the water dispensing machines on the street. I haven’t figured out why people trust these slot machines to provide safe drinking water, but not their taps.

It is quite possibly due to the massive mistrust of the government here. No-one believes anything they say, despite the museum erected in the name of quality tap water (poetically named ‘The Beijing Museum of Tap Water’ which I have yet to visit). In the same way that everyone turns to the American embassy’s air pollution data, the government’s repeated testing of water samples does little to persuade anyone. "All tap water in Beijing meets quality standards," said Cheng Jing, head of the Beijing Water Authority. And what exactly are those quality standards Mr Cheng?

It comes out of the taps clear, doesn’t smell and I have tried drinking it and felt no ill-effects. I get the impression that the problem is not a biological one, more likely a chemical one. Perhaps its long term rather than short term damage that is the worry? Finding any data about Beijing tap water seems impossible. I wonder why that is?

All I know is that a small pool left to dry leaves brown stains on my white kitchen worktop. Hmm.

New guest post- check it out!

Check out my new guest post at The Middle Kingdom 

It's run by Matt and Kara who are very nice people, also blogging about life in China. They have lots of useful info if you are planning to live here or if you're new to Beijing.

Open a window

Zhu Rong Ji, ex-Chinese Premier*, said "When you open a window, fresh wind blows in. But dust and flies will also come in." He was referring to the idea of China opening up to the West about 20 years ago, and allowing more of an exchange of business, culture and ideas.

A student told me this quote this morning as part of a lesson where we were discussing the effect of the West's influence on the health of the Chinese people. I'm afraid there were quite a lot of flies!! Mostly in the shape of hamburgers, pizzas and alcohol.

Apparently Zhu Rong Ji added that putting a net over the window can keep out the dust and flies. This is where the romance of the window analogy breaks down for me, but it still has an important meaning. He was saying that if we keep our own minds, we can hold on to traditional culture whilst remaining open to new and positive ideas. You'd have to ask a Chinese person what those new and old ideas are and I suspect you'd get many different and varied answers.

I like this quote because I think it is not only true but applies to many situations. When you try something new or open your mind to new things, there will be both positive and negative things that come along for the ride.

So go and open a window and let some fresh air in... but keep the fly-swat handy!

*Zhu Rong Ji was Premier from 1998-2003, and was succeeded by the current premier, Wen Jiabao.

Taking a nap

Today was the day I took my first ever nap at work. With a full belly after lunch, sat in my comfy chair in the warm office, I fell asleep. I was serenaded by the quiet chatter of my Chinese colleagues and the regular dripping coming from the leaking ceiling (don't ask!).

When I first began working here, I remember being slightly shocked by the number of heads slumped on desks around 3pm. I talked to a student about it and I explained that its not really done in the UK and it would be both amusing and a little shocking.

James (the student) is planning on moving to England soon and so has a keen interest in cultural matters. He asked what should he do if he feels sleepy at work, and looked pretty alarmed as I broke the news to him. In disbelief, he asked "But what if you're really tired?" 

"Just carry on!" I replied, in true British spririt. As the words came out, I suddenly realised who's got it right. Is it really a good idea to soldier on regardless, producing low quality work because you're so tired that you can't concentrate properly? Why not take a quick power nap, feel refreshed and then resume with renewed effort? What a cracking idea!

And so it was in this spirit that I decided to join the club today. When I awoke ten minutes later, feeling ready to tackle that lesson plan, no-one even commented. How wonderful!

Manhole misery

Manholes in Beijing just don’t get a good press! Before I moved here, I barely gave a thought to those plates of iron which separate us from the world beneath. However, recently I can’t help but read about horror after horror caused by the humble manhole cover, or lack thereof.  The most recent stats I can find say that in 2006, 47 people were killed in China as a direct result of stolen manhole covers and 10,000 people injured. I know, I know: China has a population of 1 billion people, what’s 47? But it’s such unnecessary suffering. 

The authorities in Beijing are constantly fighting theft of the cities’ 600,000 manhole covers. According to Wikipedia 240,000 covers were stolen from Beijing's streets in 2004. Night-time robbers crept in to remove the metal covers which could be sold for scrap at a decent price (US$2.4 dollars per manhole, back in 2004). 

You don’t have to look very hard to find chilling tales of manhole hell, such as the 4-year old boy in Changchun, capital of Jilin province, who fell down an uncovered manhole and drowned in 2008. Here’s a couple of more recent episodes:

Manhole horror story #1

In the recent terrible floods, this story caught my eye: A woman narrowly escaped death after being suddenly swept 100m down a road by floodwater, and then sucked down an open manhole. She was trapped in the giant plughole, with water gushing over her head. Eventually the poor woman was pulled free after 5 or so minutes.  

Manhole horror story #2

This is the utterly horrific story of the woman who earlier this year fell down one of Beijing’s many loose manhole covers. Unfortunately, the story does not end there. Waiting below was litres of scalding steam and boiling water from a broken heating pipe. She suffered 99% burns and died later.

Needless to say, I now step around all manholes. In Beijing though, sometimes you're trapped between a herd of determined pedestrians and a front of hooting cars, and manholes are simply unavoidable. At such times, I just have to close my eyes and hold my breath.

The internet is full of news stories saying that the Beijing authorities are clamping down on manhole cover theft, but there is very little recent information available. I read that manufacturers are working on a composite manhole cover which would do the same job, but not be valuable for scrap and so be less desirable.

Even the intact manholes can be dodgy. There's a few near my office and I see the ground around them bend and buckle as cars ride over them. Indeed, general pavement maintenance leaves something to be desired, as this poor girl found out. Many pavements, designed to bear the weight of humans only, are used as car parks and so the tarmac and paving quickly cracks and breaks. Heavy summer rain pours in and washes away the soil underneath, leaving behind a very precarious situation. 

Stay safe out there folks: if the manhole cover looks loose or wobbly and the pavement looks badly cracked, step to one side!

Falling at the first hurdle

It was great to see some live Olympics for the 1st time today. An announcement was made at work and people promptly gathered around the TV for the much anticipated 110m hurdles heat. The usually quiet reception area was humming and felt like I imagine the Queen's coronation might have been like for many people back in 1952- lots of people huddled round the nearest TV set. The Chinese athlete Liu Xiang was running and after the disappointment of Beijing 2008, the pressure was on. There was a palpable sense of excitement as people chattered about the events of 4 years ago during the pre-race build up. The gun went and the race began and was over with a few seconds, as Xiang literally fell at the first hurdle.

I was focussed on the British guy in lane 7, who shortly won, but the rest of the room was silent. I held up my arms to celebrate a win for the UK and was about to shout hurray, when I detected this would not be wise. No-one was crying but no-one spoke either. The CCTV channel played and replayed the fall from every possible angle, for another 10 minutes. Eventually they brought out a presenter who sighed deeply and struggled to find any words.

My heart was with poor Xiang who probably felt the billion strong weight of his nation willing him on. How wonderful to have so many people supporting you, but what crippling disapointment he will face now.

He heriocally hopped the rest of the course and at the finish was helped to his waiting wheelchair by the British winner. Congrats to Andy Turner, not only for his speed but also for being a nice guy too.

Falling back in love with Chinese food

After a bout of food poisoning, recently I have been put right off Chinese food. In fact I spent my last weekend trying to get hold of some home comforts- pasta, bread, jam, fresh coffee, and real milk. All expensive and I had to go out of my way to find them, but they were soooo delicious and my poor stomach was so glad of them.

However, on a wet rainy day like today, it seemed too far to walk to anywhere that served Western food. Having said that, I’d had a rough morning at work and I needed to get out of the building. So I ventured back to my old favourite, the food court in the basement of my local mall. The wonders of this place are numerous:

1. None of my colleagues go there, preferring McDonalds or Subway, so I know I won’t be disturbed.
2. It is a mall but it’s not flashy or westernized. There’s no Gucci or fancy shop fronts, just little stalls pedalling their wares.
3. Being in the basement, it’s always a comfortable temperature. When it’s hot outside, it’s cool inside and vice versa.
4. The greatest wonder of this place is the incredible variety of freshly cooked Chinese food. When I say fresh, we’re talking cooked in front of you and ready to eat within a minute of ordering. Mmm-mm!
5. The staff are so friendly. They always remember me and what I like to eat! As I walked down the row of stalls, it was nihao after nihao. 

Where was I? Oh yes, I’d had a crappy morning at work and it was a wet and unseasonably chilly day. I was welcomed back into the fold and I headed straight to the baozi stall. The lady warmly greeted me and knew exactly what I wanted. I was presented with a piping bamboo steamer and a pair of kuaizi. The dumplings were nestled together, proud and cosy and reviving. I looked around me whilst savouring the doughy warmth of the baozi and saw the benches full of people chatting and like me, finding comfort in their lunch.  Knowing the Chinese people’s love of food, this place feels like the beating heart of china. This is where the food is made that fuels and comforts the workers. Where people reconnect with each other and with food.

Lost in thought and still a bit clumsy with chopsticks, I managed to drop half a baozi down my front. The lady opposite handed me a tissue. I thank her and using my basic mandarin, we had a little conversation. About food of course.

And that’s how I fell back in love with Chinese food. I love this place!

Shiny China

Whilst sipping a cappuccino this morning, a rather interesting scene unfolded before me. I was smiling as I watched the tiny tots spin round on the carousel in front of the cafe window. The parents were waving and grinning, cameras flashing and their expectations higher than the children’s. Everyone was generally having a good time, me included, when the ride slowed unexpectedly to a stop and the families were ushered away by men in suits. The kids’ smiles began to crack and tears pricked their big beautiful brown eyes.

A slim female celeb in a floaty dress took her place astride a horse. She was soon joined by a flashy looking interviewer who smiled and joked as he tried to keep his balance. The horses  lurched forwards.

In the background, an old man was minding his own business whilst sweeping the street. A crew member grumpily snatched the broom from his hands, gave the place a cursory brush and then pushed the old man away. Looking pleased with himself, he rejoined the suits. The street sweeper was united with the disgruntled families, kept at bay and craning his neck to see what was happening.

That's better. China was looking shiny and new, ready for the CCTV cameras.

Looking back... first impressions

Well,  it’s pretty much the end of July and I can’t believe that we are a third of the way through our time here already. It seems that we have become accustomed to life here and that some changes have happened so gradually that I didn’t even notice. There are things that used to really stand out that now just blend in. Looking back at some scribblings of mine from the first few days here in China, I wanted to write about some of my first impressions of this country.

Leaving the airport, I felt relieved as I was efficiently packaged into a taxi and the English speaking airport official instructed the driver where to take me. One of the first things that struck me was that very suddenly, I became completely illiterate. The second thing I noticed was that apart from the happy but jet lagged face of my boyfriend, I didn’t see another non-Chinese face all day. 

I had expected Beijing to be a thriving multicultural metropolis, but it turns out that’s Shanghai. What was really noticeable was the weirdly high number of Western faces in adverts pasted all over the city. A white family, grinning and looking insanely healthy advertised a Chinese dental surgery. Emma Watson demonstrated the youthful effects of L’Oreal’s latest product all over the Beijing subway. A pretty but timid looking white woman recommended the local gynecological hospital. For a city that’s almost 100% Chinese, where are the happy, glowing Chinese faces?

Coupled with the prevalence of skin whitening products and apparent general fear of tanning, I started to wonder how the Chinese feel about being Chinese, or at least how the advertisers want them to feel about it. Starting my new job, one of my students spies my olive skin, tanned by the strong Beijing sunshine and wearing the kind of expression you might reserve for a bereaved friend, she says “You look tanned. I’m sorry.”

Getting fruity

As the days tick by here in Beijing, their passing is marked by the changing colours of fruit on the street sellers' carts. When we first arrived, they were a bright strawberry red, the fruits painstakingly laid out in regimented rows. Later, cherries became king, heaped in crimson mountains, dusty and leafy. The cherries have been overtaken now by increasingly cheap watermelon. Mini-vans park up on the road side, boots open and jammed with a tumble of large green striped fruits. Every week, the price drops further and their delicious flesh gets sweeter. 

More recently, the mounds of furry peaches have been growing, complimented by gentle pink lychees. Now the grapes are beginning their take over; green, dark red, juicy and full-bodied.

These tasty, fruity delights add a splash of colour and vibrancy to this oft’ grey city. What a delicious way to mark the passing of time.

Patriotic? Me?

I watched some of the 2012 London Olympics opening ceremony today, not as I had expected, in a bar surrounded by tearful and cheering expats, but in IKEA. Having stopped off for a spot of lunch en route to Cao Chang Di (a fab little art district beyond the 5^th ring road), we found it being played on a big screen in the canteen. There was no sound on though and surprisingly little interest from the scores of Chinese people eating meatballs and lingonberry gravy around us. How strange it felt to be in a Swedish cafeteria in Beijing, watching the London Olympics!

I think that we Brits are a humble nation and we tend to be very self-critical. In the UK, patriotism and national pride are all too often associated with the racist bigotry of the BNP and anyway, we wouldn’t want to come across as arrogant or too proud. Danny Boyle’s magnificent and inclusive efforts were a joyous celebration of so many wonderfully British home-grown things. I don’t know what the diners around me thought of it all, but I'm not sure that it matters one little bit. I don't care if the children weren’t as tightly choreographed and as in-time as the highly trained Chinese ones in 2008.  I was just so proud to see all the performers so clearly having the time of their lives and basking in the glory of all things GB. It was the images of dear old Freddie Mercury that first got my eyes filling up as I was so glad to see him remembered and included. Moving too was the splendid multiculturalism on display, which is so valuable and such a contrast to the virtual monoculture here in China.

I nipped off for a free refill and a break from all the high emotion. I came back to replayed scenes of the old chap with Parkinson’s disease who, whilst carrying the Olympic torch, got out of his wheelchair and aided by two friendly coppers, rose to his feet and walked the last few yards. I could see that even my boyfriend’s eyes were moist and combined with the images of smiling police and cheering onlookers, the lump in my throat got bigger. There followed HM the Queen in a parachute, James Bond, Dizzee Rascal, a fleet of good old NHS nurses, a surge of Mary Poppinses,  David Beckham on a neon pink speedboat and a magical glowing butterflies on bicycles. What more could you possibly want?!!

It was quite an experience, mostly because I don’t think I’ve ever felt patriotic in my life before! I guess moving abroad will certainly bring out any patriotic tendencies if you have them! Coupled with an emotional celebration of everything that is great about your home country, it’s bound to get the tears flowing.

I can’t wait to watch it again later, with sound this time and a gin and tonic and a box of tissues!

A quick weather report

It still hasn't rained. Nice one BBC.

A worrying forecast...

How's this for a weather forecast?!! I've never seen anything like it!

People are so worried about the weather after last Saturday's unusually massive deluge that lots of people went home early from work yesterday. Hardly any students came to lessons and the streets and subway were eerily quiet for a city of over 20 million people. According to the BBC we have got a fun week ahead of use with rain, rain and more rain. Let's just hope that it's not heavy enough to result in any deaths and/or that the authorities learned something last week about how to deal with a city in flood.

Suicidal

I came back from lunch today and found myself swept along with a crowd of excited people shouting, smiling and running to the back of my office building. Initially concerned about what I might be about to get involved in, I envisaged the British Foreign Office website headlines: ‘riots in Beijing’, ’29 year old woman killed in Beijing stampede’. Before I could further embellish my own death, I emerged from the tunnel into the large open space in which maybe 150 people were standing. I immediately sensed there was no threat; in fact there was more of a carnival atmosphere. Then I noticed everyone was looking up to the 10^th floor, where a pair of skinny legs could be seen dangling from the window, and I could just make out a pair of arms, tightly clutching a baby. I suddenly felt like I’d been badly winded. I looked again behind me to check that people really were laughing. Yep, they were pointing and seemed to be generally being entertained. One woman held her toddler and pointed out the legs, the way a parent might point to an animal in the zoo. And as my eyes focused on the crowd, I could see that many people were taking photos and filming the scene.

I went inside, feeling the need for some quiet space to take in what I had just seen. Back in the office, people gathered at the window to see what was happening. By now, several firemen had appeared. One set up a video camera and the rest milled around. A large inflatable yellow mattress was brought in and pumped up. What with the jolly mood and a large inflatable object, the whole place now resembled a summer fete.

Throughout the incident, I was far more drawn to watching the crowd than the legs in the window.  I’m sure that in the UK a similar event would similarly have drawn a fascinated crowd. I’m also sure that some people would have taken photos. However, I don’t think I’m kidding myself when I say that the mood would more likely be one of somber concern.

After work, I got busy with good old Wikipedia which told me that China is thought to have the highest suicide rate in Asia and one of the highest in the world. Being in a new country which is so very different from my own, I try not to judge. I try to be open-minded and think to myself ‘That’s different’ rather than ‘That’s terrible’. However, it’s hard to do that sometimes. It’s really hard to understand how one person’s tormented battle with life could be seen as a bit of light amusement. In a noodle restaurant near my partner’s office they show ‘suicide TV’- films of similar events. I just hope that the fireman was filming it for professional purposes rather than to make a quick buck.

In the end, the skinny-legged individual didn’t jump. The mattress and the mood were deflated and the crowds dispersed, somewhat disappointed.

Tearing my hair out!

My cell phone decided to completely stop working yesterday. It became clear that I could not fix it myself so a very kind colleague accompanied me to the nearest China Unicom shop. As is the way, we took a ticket: number 138. They were currently serving 104. We went back to work and came back half an hour later to find them only on 113. We returned again half an hour later but alas, in some kind of time warping process we were too late and we had missed our number! Faced with only one option, to take another ticket, half an hour later we were served. Please note that we are now 2 hours into this saga. The shop assistant managed to permanently lock my sim card by attempting to enter the pin incorrectly several times so I was then forced to buy a new one. In order to do this I had to show my passport which was then photocopied. I signed a receipt and was given 3 pieces of paper (I have no idea what any of them say).  After mixing up my sim card with her own, the assistant soon decided that my phone was the problem. So 3 hours after first entering, I left the shop none the wiser and late for a meeting.  Aaaaagh! I had to stand on the quiet stairwell, sipping cool water for 10 minutes before I felt calm enough to resume my position!!

Do you know what the wonderful thing about China is? Every maddening, hair pulling experience like this one is countered by something wonderfully positive. I had great fun teaching some students about various illnesses and after the lesson I was told I am a very ‘wisdom lady’- how lovely! Then on the bus on my way home, I struck up a conversation with a Chinese guy who initially asked me if I spoke French. I replied “Un petite peu.” and there followed a challenging but highly engaging conversation in what I’d like to call “Frenglese”. It might just be the most rewarding conversation I’ve ever had in my life.

What was I saying the other day about the ups and downs of life? Crazy!

When it rains, it pours.

Myself and the other 20 million Beijingers awoke on Saturday to grey skies and heavy rain. Deciding it would soon clear ("Surely it can't keep this up for long!"), my boyfriend and I enjoyed some downloaded TV and discussed where to go on our hard earned day off. The Museum of China won our vote and bags were packed. Two cups of coffee and two episodes and of "The Restaurant Inspector" later, the downpour continued and the puddled street had developed a distinct flow. Still hopeful, we opted for a quick lunch at home and threw some frozen jaozi in the steamer. Amazingly, it just didn't relent, not even a little. We marvelled at the scene from our 6th floor window and were glued to the window whenever a pedestrian went by and allowed us to use their legs as measuring sticks to assess the depth of the water. Soon a car crashed and blocked the main road and as the lightning got brighter, the thunder louder and the sky turning a sickening yellowy grey, the mood turned apocalyptic. Searches of China Daily’s website and general googling revealed nothing and we could only imagine what might be happening on the streets out of our view.

It wasn't until the following day, when the skies were innocently blue and barely any puddles remained, that I became aware of the seriousness of the situation. Colleagues told of 5 hour long journeys home, of wading through thigh deep water to reach the subway and of badly leaking ceilings. Photos soon emerged of cars floating around like soap suds and manholes that were transformed into deadly, swirling plug holes for the city’s excess water. The current death toll stands at 37. People were crushed in collapsing buildings, drowned in underpasses and some were electrocuted as live cables fell into the flood waters. Absolutely terrifying. My thoughts are with the families of those whose lives were so suddenly lost to the storm.

Perhaps its the enormity of Beijing, but despite the fact that I live here,  it stills just feels like something on the news. Something happening in a faraway place. There was so little sign of any damage around this part of the city and life continues as normal. More heavy rain and storms are forecast over the coming week, as Beijing hits its very own rainy season. So its time to go and buy some cheap welly boots, keep a brolly on one's person at all times and it seems the safest thing to do if possible is just stay indoors and batten down the hatches.

A Birthday in Beijing

One year ago today, on my 28^th birthday, I hadn’t dreamt that I’d be spending my 29^th under the beautiful Beijing stars. And that’s not just because it’s so rare get get a clear sky here! On July 22^nd 2011, there were no set plans in place to move out here; life and work just continued as normal. And suddenly there I was last night- surrounded by new friends, sipping a cold Tsing Tao on a hutong rooftop, attempting to hug a Chinese guy* and star-gazing in the comfortable warmth of a July evening. Unbelievable.

I moved here almost 4 months ago, perhaps like a lot of people who move abroad, in search of something. I’m not entirely sure what that something is yet, but I’ve decided that I’d like to share it with you. I want to write an honest account of my life here; my first impressions of Beijing, the rocky road that is culture shock, the high days, the low days and the in-between days and any other interesting things that happen along the way.  I’m starting to figure out that wherever you are in the world, life is still a series of ups and downs and the best tactic is to embrace it. Here goes! Are you coming?

*After a few beers,  I misinterpreted his move towards the door as as gesture towards a goodbye hug. It resulted in gymnastic attempts to get out of my way and a very swift exit. Ooops!