Beijing Now

This has been neglected lately, for a number of reasons. I've been busier than usual lately (actually, I should maybe say that I've stopped being less busy than usual. Or something), and I've also had hassles with my internet connection which made it a bit less worthwhile to put new stuff online. Plus, as the situation in Beijing returns to normal, less people are reading which makes me less inclined to write.

I'll decorate this entry and the two or three below which never got pictures, with some photos I took a couple of weeks ago in Zizhuyuan (Purple Bamboo Garden, or maybe Black Bamboo Garden, depending on which entrance you take). I had planned to write about all the fascinating and amusing things I saw there, although now all I can remember is that there are bits of grass you can lie on, as opposed to bits of grass you get shooed off as is usually the case in parks in China, and also there was a man with an accordian. Those pictures that aren't obviously parklife are from Wutasi, a small temple complex that now houses Beijing's Stone Carving museum, along with 5 stone pagodas that are so many years old the number is too big for me to remember. Unfortunately the pagodas were closed on the basis that they were too delicate to go spraying disinfectant on. I've had a few messages from people saying that I should give directions to the places I mention so . . . for the park, the easiest way is to head for Beijing Library (the one north of Baishiqiao, not the one taxi drivers claim exists somewhere else) and walk south a a little. For Wutasi cross the road from the park entrance and follow the canal till you see the totem poles. And if you can, let me know what I should call the totem poles, I know that's not the right name.

The WHO has removed its travel advisory for Beijing, which has been proclaimed as 'victory' by newspapers and the blackboard downstairs. Life is now back to normal in most respects. There are still reminders, the 'disinfected' signs which adorn everything a member of the public is likely to come into contact with - shops, taxis and chopsticks - and the temperature checks either administered by bored guards wielding devices that generate random numbers between 16 and 40 or high-tech infra-red video camera things which nobody actually seems to be monitoring. Having your temperature taken may become as much a part of visiting China as staring and crowds.

It's been a week since I updated this. Apologies to the hundreds of thousands of you who've been sitting blankly in front of your computers hitting the reload button in hope of an update during this drought.

I've been doing some work in area of Beijing where all the embassies are, which is one reason why I've not been writing much. It's a strange area, as they have huge barbed-wire fences wrapped around all the buildings and armed guards every few dozen meters. I'm not sure, but I suspect they're from the People's Armed Police Force, a kind of heavy-duty police force used to guard sensitive places like government buildings and so on. I could be wrong about that, and I daresay someone will tell me if I am. Either way, they don't exactly inspire confidence as they all look like they lied about their age to get in and while I'm no expert on health and safety rules in China, I'd like to think there's a regulation somewhere which says 'sub-machine guns should be held pointing skywards when not in use' rather than 'sub-machine guns can be slung on your hip, pointing pedestrianwards, when not in use'. Actually there are very few of the heavily-armed guards around - most of them just seem to carry some kind of heavy-duty stick. They all came in handy the other day when I lost my way to work though - I was able to ask a policeman for directions at every junction. Street crime probably isn't much of a problem round there either.

Beijing's been raining this week, and it's kept the temperature down and the smog hanging around the horizon rather than blocking the view across the road, which is nice. 'June weather in Beijing is like a woman', I've been told, and you can interpret that as you will. I suspect 'volatile and unpredictable' was what was meant, but I'm not sure you can call the rain now unpredictable - it seems to have an uncanny ability to hold off until rush-hour.

Buses in Beijing are still much quieter than they were a few months ago. I was the only passenger aboard when I got on this morning, and they wound up taking the number out of the windscreen and heading straight for the terminal, where I was getting off anyway. I had a shouted conversation from the back of the bus with the driver and ticket-seller, answering the usual 'where froms' and 'how muchs'. They didn't ask me how much I earn until I was getting off, which was a pity as I make a point of returning the question. It's interesting to see how much different jobs earn here, although the nature of research means that about 97% of my data relates to taxi-drivers, who either all earn vastly different amounts or tend to lie.

So really, I thought, how wet can you get dashing to the bus stop? The answer turned out to be 'Wet enough to need to wring out your underwear, if you ever make it home'.

I probably made it about 10 metres before getting wet enough it didn't matter if I got wetter, though there was a bag full of books to worry about. It's that special dry-seeking rain that appears to be coming at you head on, but is clever enough to richocet off nearby surfaces if it misses you first time round. I managed to get across the subway station forecourt and a road before sheltering between the side of a newspaper stand and the wall of water pouring off the top of it. Next made a crouched sprint along the hoardings of a building site, until I collided with someone doing the same thing in the other direction (he won, as he had the wind behind him) and attempted to shelter under a bus shelter. Unfortunately the bus shelter had been designed to shelter skinny people from less enthusiastic rain, and wasn't doing much for the huddled masses below.

At this point I gave up any hope of not spending the evening drying things, and made a sprint for the next bus stop (where the buses actually stop, the first one is a decoy) which I got to just in time to paddle onto the 105 and get laughed at by the conductress, who asked me why I hadn't waited inside. Fortunately I'd temporarily forgotten the Chinese for 'Because I'm stupid enough to think I know better than everyone else' so I didn't reply and just pretended not to know anything about the pools of water gathering at my feet.

Someone getting off the bus at the same stop as me offered to walk me the few dozen yards home under his umbrella, which was very kind. However the fact that he was himself absolutely drenched made me doubt the point of an umbrella for one, let alone two. Sprinted home past little islands of people sheltering under phone booths, inside newspaper kiosks, under footbridges and handbags and rapidly disintegrating newspapers. There was an audience of guards, lift attendants and older residents who appeared to have gathered at the entrance to the building in order to giggle at everyone coming home from work clad in rain, and who can blame them?

That's enough about rain. I'm off to see if my shoes, money, residence permit, mobile phone, digital camera and books have dried out yet.

I'm actually writing this on Saturday, but predicting it's going to be Sunday before I finish and get this online. I've been having real trouble getting online lately, as the internet connection at work keeps on getting cut off, and my line at home has been very unreliable.

I've been around the embassy district lately, partly for a job interview with a company there and partly to try and make all the guards nervous by asking them if they know any embassies with lax security procedures. I think I've got a tendency to dismiss that area as all motorways and office buildings, which is unfair. There's no shortage of that, but it doesn't take more than a few minutes walk at right angles to any of the major roads and you can be in peaceful, tree-lined streets full of old men playing cards and Chinese chess with their caged songbirds hanging up on the trees. Looks like a very pleasant way to spend a retirement to me, though the birds may have opinions.

I'd be very interested to know if the infra-red temperature-taker things that lots of places use now are actually accurate. They've got one at the entrance to the Silk Market now, though it seems that people are actually put off more than reassured - it was quieter than ever. I'd certainly be dubious about a device that's probably come off a production line that was making remote controls four weeks ago, wielded by an employee whose main qualification is being able to sit down on a stool for hours without complaining. I know that when I flew back to Beijing I had my temperature taken 5 times, and on the three occasions when I was told what it was it ranged from 34.2 to 37.2.

I've started eating out again, which I hadn't done while restaurants were closed or empty. Side street neighbourhood restaurants are still generally quiet, but those on main shopping streets are much livelier than they have been. There are lots of signs up telling you the restaurants procedure for disinfecting utensils, and at one place the entire kitchen staff was lined up in the restaurant having their temperature taken, raising the two questions 'Why can't they do that in the kitchen?' and 'So who's cooking my food?'

The authorities in some parts of the city have closed down a whole load of businesses that operated underground (literally underground, in basements. Not illegally, or outwith mainstream culture. Although you never know . . ) on the basis of inadequate ventilation. I'm not sure if these are new regulations enacted recently or just the stricter enforcement of older ones.

I took a taxi back the other night, and got a type of taxi driver you probably get in about 5% of Beijing taxis - the kind who talks incessantly, with absolutely no regard to whether you've understood or not. It's like you've accidentally sat on his imaginary friend, but they're both too polite to say anything and just carry on with their conversation. There were even pauses for me to respond, although everything carried on just the same regardless of whether I'd said nothing, nodded politely, or pointed out he was heading for the wrong ring road. The best bit is when after a 13Y ride of nodding and 'yes, yes'-ing the driver hands you your change and compliments you on your excellent Chinese, despite you're having said nothing of more substance than your address.

"Business isn't very good, made 30Y this morning, that's rubbish, you didn't use to be able to turn right here, you can now, I'm not sure why they changed it but it's convenient, how much does a taxi cost in Britain, they're expensive aren't they, we all know London's big black taxis, HEY ARE YOU CRAZY!!?? who gave him a car? How long have you been here that's a long time are you going to marry a Chinese girl ha ha the roads are really quiet now but that's no good if there's no customers they're building a new subway here for the Olympics I think more subways will mean people taking less taxis but if it brings lots of people into the city its ok I reckon it'll be at least two months before everythings back to normal there's someone stopped by the police they don't usually stop us if they see the taxi belongs to a big company heres your change your Chinese is excellent mind how you go"

Beijing appears to be pretty much back to normal. There are still restrictions on entering campuses and residential compounds, but I've seen some that have been relaxed from 'Don't come in' to 'Come in, but sign yourself in'. Most places officially always wanted you to sign in anyway, it's just so rarely done that you'd get strange looks if you asked to do it. Restaurants are lively, or at least those that have reopened have. Shops are busier (though you could move at IKEA at the weekend, and that doesn't usually happen), and I haven't had a bus to myself for days. . .

I've been working on a translation all day, with the result that I have neither news nor time. Suffice to say there's plenty of traffic on the street, plenty of pedestrians on the pavements, and occasionally traffic on the pavements and pedestrians on the street.

More importantly, there's cold beer in the fridge and a pile of unwatched DVDs on top of the pile of watched DVDs, so I'll leave it at that. And if the particular household spirit that is responsible for dial-up internet connections looks kindly upon me tonight, I might even manage to get this online before the end of the week. . .

I found out there is a suspected case of SARS in the residential part of the campus our school is on, where I used to live. This is presumably why I couldn’t go in the north gate on Wednesday. There were posters up at work detailing the measures taken, and reassuring everyone there was no need to worry. If the closest I come to SARS is the discovery of a suspected case in a building near where I used to live before Spring Festival then I’ll be a happy man.

Must be a great time for people who like posters, they’re all over the place. They’re piling up on top of each other at the entrance to my building, and though I haven’t had time to read them all those I have read don’t say much beyond ‘wash your hands often and fight SARS? There was a new one this morning, but it’s got a picture of a cute puppy on, so I probably won’t bother reading that.

There’s also a blackboard with a ‘XX days with no cases of SARS? currently at 23. This mystifies me slightly, as it’s hardly something we inhabitants can take all that much pride in. ?5 days without a drink? or ? months with no court injunctions?might be understandable. However, the absence of SARS from the building is due to good luck rather than willpower and moral character, and we might as well have ‘Two weeks since anyone tripped on the stairs? Moreover, were a case or a suspected case to occur, we’d presumably be informed by people in biological-warfare suits turning up at the door, disinfecting us, and telling us we can’t step out the door for two weeks rather than the guard resetting the blackboard to zero.

They’re counting from May 1st, but actually there has never been a case of SARS in our building, so we could count from any date they choose. The building is probably a few decades old, so we could start from then and have thousands and thousands of days up there, or maybe even start counting from the Big Bang and use eons as your units.

There are also plenty of larger-scale efforts on billboards, almost like when there’s a big political meeting and businesses rush to ‘Warmly welcome the 25th National People’s Congress?and ‘Use Jiang Zemin’s Important Three Representatives Thinking to Improve Customer Service?and so on (ok, I made the last one up).

Final year students at school have gone back to class, although with no small restrictions. Those with temperatures over 37.2 degrees are being sent home, and one school is placing all school-bags under ultra-violet lights for 3 hours. I’m reminded of when Europe was trying to prevent Britain’s foot and mouth epidemic from spreading and Spain (I heard) sent a team to stand at the French border and rigorously disinfect the passenger side of every car that came into the country.

The earthquake in Algeria flattened a dormitory housing Chinese workers, so that knocked SARS off top-spot in at least one newspaper for the first time. Apart from that, SARS continues to dominate the news.

There was also a very interesting article about one of northern China's first SARS patients, to whom the outbreaks in Inner Mongolia and Tianjin have been traced, telling of her attempts to get treatment for SARS when all the hospitals were telling her she had a cold. I'm planning to translate that fully when I get a chance.

Stormy weather today, and there’s thunder rolling across the city as I write this. At least you can put the bad visibility down to the weather rather than pollution, which is always nice.

I've not got a great deal of new insight into Beijing at the moment, apart from the usual 'bit busier'. 15 new cases reported today, 11 from suspected cases, and 22 new suspected cases. SARS is still by far and away the biggest news story, but others are starting to get a look in. There were a number of Chinese (3 confirmed) killed in the earthquake in Algeria, which is getting a fair amount of coverage (much more that 81 being killed in a n explosion in a Chinese mine did recently . . .)

Thunder and lightening outside, after a muggy humid day. I've spent the whole day hunched over a dictionary and a translation I'm doing, hence the lack of interesting observations today. The only incident of note was that my experiment to see what happens if you don't pay your phone bill came to fruition. Predictably enough, your phone stops working. It did take three weeks after the bill was due though, which was nice of them, and it started again a few hours after I paid the bill.

Got Chinese characters floating in front of my eyes after looking at the all day. It's strange how you can think you understand something, but when you try to put it into English you realise that you're not actually all that clear about what it realy means.

Brief again today, as I've been busy. The next few days entries will probably be similar, but I'll try to keep updating daily. However, as numbers visiting the site are dropping off and the SARS situation is becoming more stable (it seems) I'll probably start updating every few days, or maybe even stop altogether in the next week or so.

Overheard coughs (0), No. of times I got a seat on public transport (4/4), Visitors to this page (112)

Not much today, as it's late and I've got a few things to do. Went to Sanlitun for a drink after work. I hardly every go there, last time was in October. Realised it was the first time in three weeks I'd spoken to anyone not Chinese - I hadn't actually noticed.

Beijing lively, and if you didn't know what it is usually like, you wouldn't think anything was wrong. Weather is starting to get properly hot, moving from T-shirt-because-you-can weather to T-shirt-because-you-have-to weather, and we may shortly see the resurrection of Beijing's 'no wandering about bare-chested' rule which caused such a fuss last year. Will probably have to close the windows and turn on the air-conditioning soon. I hope it works, this will be the first time I've used it.

Feedback form comments - I don't provide directions to the places I mention as any decent guidebook or map will tell you.

That's all for today.

I went into work today, not to work but to start my new Chinese studying regime. I walked in through the park, which is always a pleasure - there's so much of Chinese life in the parks here. I took quite a few photos, which you'll see scattered around. It was quite lively, though at 10am I'd probably missed the busiest part of the morning. Certainly plenty of people about - I don't know if it's the reduction in new SARS cases, or people getting used to the phantom threat of killer viruses, or that even close-knit Chinese families can only spend so long together, but whatever the reason the streets, parks and buses were all busier today. Masks are also much less common.

There's a real sense of community around Chinese parks, especially in the morning. Singing groups, sword-dancers, ball-room dancing, knitting, it's all there. There were also a few elderly people walking funny. I sometimes think that Monty Python's Ministry of Silly Walks is alive and well in China, masquerading as the Ministry of Health's Bureau of Elderly Exercise. I'm not being cruel or attempting to be funny when I say that once or twice I've seen people walking around and been unable to tell if they were crippled or exercising. At least, I hope I'm not being cruel.

I was denied entry by the guard at the north gate to the campus, as I didn't have some card or other. I don't know if he wanted general ID like a passport or something specific to the campus itself, but I didn't have either. I thought about trying my building's going-in-and-out card, on the basis that if I'm going to carry the thing about everyday it may as well try to be useful. In the end I figured it would be easier to go in the side gate of the campus, where I walked right in. The woman at the entrance to the building I work in told her mate that there was no point in asking me for a card as I was a foreigner and I wouldn't understand. I saw no reason to correct her.

Coming in the side gate entails walking down an alleyway of 'hairdressers'. Hairdressers in China are often a front for brothels, and I've been asked once or twice how to tell the difference (by people who wanted haircuts). I'd always suggested you look for customers actually having their hair cut, scissors and hairspray on the tables, etc, until someone told me this foolproof method. Go in. Have your haircut. If your hair looks like it's been cut by a whore - it's a brothel. This was told to me by someone who had inadvertently had his hair cut by a woman who knew very little indeed about cutting hair, and it showed. I managed to resist the 'hello's and beckoning though.

I'd actually been carrying around all my passports, residence permits and other cards until a few days ago, as I'd been paranoid the city government would wait for me to pop out for a pint of milk and then decree that ID had to be shown at all doors, leaving me stranded on the street with a pint of rapidly souring milk. However, I stopped a few days ago as it didn't seem to be happening. I guess I'll start carrying them again, certainly when I know I'm going to be walking past any guards. I haven't had to sign into the building again though, so presumably it was a one-off.

The 'seats on public transport' statistic almost went down today, as I got the last seat on the bus. There was also only one person wearing a mask. 12 new cases today in Beijing. The WHO's criteria for declaring an outbreak over is for the affected area to go 20 days without a new case, so that's still someway off. It may be of interest, particularly to those of you in the medical trade, that there's an advert on the internet site from where I got the new cases number which claims that 'Western Medicine fights the symptoms - Chinese Medicine fights the virus'. Bet you didn't know that.

The newspapers are full of stories of people being fined for spitting. It seems to be part of a general crackdown on 'uncultured behavior' - throwing cigarette butts and urinating in the street is also out. There was a story in the paper about a taxi-driver who was made to pick up his cigarette butt and wipe up his spit, who then swore to the journalist that he would never do such things again. Apparently the western aversion to public spitting came about when people came to believe that it spread TB, so who knows, the culture could be a-changing.