Dear Beijings, pt. 2

Maybe not the local citizens this time, but rather, a different contingent of people/persons that litter the streets of Wudaokou like ubiquitous yangrou chuan'r sellers, only not as scrumptious or welcoming a sight.

European Men

I'll be honest: I own a plain zip-up hoodie from H&M. And my favorite pair of jeans that I have at the moment are a 130 kuai pair of stonewashed, faded blues from Jack & Jones. But that's it. No floral patterns or T-shirts with a pullstring for me, thanks.

Maybe it's from being raised American or from hanging out with people as cynical, if not moreso, than myself, but I have a natural aversion towards silk scarves paired with tight plain white T-shirts, one which causes me to furl my eyebrows until migraines rear their ugly head.

Now, I know some of you are thinking, "C'mon, Robert, you're describing a metrosexual male, or a male who is fashionably conscious and keeping up with the changing times." No I'm not. There's a reason a term "metrosexual" exists in America, and there's also a reason we refer to these men as simply "European."

I know some of you are also thinking, "what's wrong with expressing yourself through your clothing?" Yes, I own some 8-bit videogame themed T-shirts, clever ones at that. I have no problem with fashion sense, or lack thereof. There's also the philosophy book by Derrida tucked under the arm at all times, the plain black leather laptop bag with the MacBook peeking its unique, non-conformist, one-of-a-kind head ever so accidentally out of the unzipped opening, and the Chinese girl dangling on the arm and hanging on every poorly constructed English sentence and malapropism he manages to sputter out of his unshaven face. Great. Thanks, guys. Now I get to put up with awkward conversations about nothing whenever I sit down and try to study for the goddamn LSATs at my former-favorite coffee shop.

Goddamn it, I did it again. I think I'm just describing White people in general. Ah, well.

Get a haircut, assholes. Put on a fuckin' Quiksilver shirt, and for god's sake, try to be more like this guy:

That's the real motherfucker right there. Mmmm-hmmmm.

Dear Beijings, pt. 1

Technically, almost every single post I've had since coming here qualifies as a heretofore to be known as "Dear Beijings" entry, but here we go.

The "Dear Beijings" section will be a forum in which I rant, bitch, or just observe (don't count on that happening too often) certain things in Chinese society, albeit a microcosmic representation here in Beijing, that either bugs me or that I find funny.

So without further ado...

Bottlenecking

I did a search on "Answers.com" for a good, concise definition of what a bottleneck is, and so far, I've got:

1) A narrow or obstructed section, as of a highway or a pipeline
2) A point or area of traffic congestion
3) A hindrance to progress or production

Now, as of this writing, there are over 18 million people in this crazy little city. Even though I've lived here before, I still consider myself to be somewhat of a new hand here in China, in that I still haven't and probably never will be accustomed to sharing so much space with so many people at once.

What does "being accustomed" to living with so many people entail? It's somewhat of a "chicken-and-egg" problem, in that the problem is created by a source, which in turn is exacerbated by the problem the source creates, ie. too many people. What this has led to is people who push, shove, cut in lines, and people who make the streets utterly unnavigable at times. I understand where this comes from; with so many people all vying for similar things, you've got to cut out your own piece of the pie (or in some cases, the crust).


But here's where the bottlenecking comes in. If you've got thirty motherfuckers pushing and shoving to get onto the subway, guess what? No one's getting on or off the damn train. The Chinese have difficulty reconciling the "First off, then in" rule, in which passengers who have reached their destination get off first, and then people who are boarding get in second. They also have difficulty giving right-of-way in traffic, no matter how few cars are on the road. Once again, this is all part of conditioning via one's environment, but I mean, come the fuck on.

There's too many people in China. That's a problem. But problems are called "problems" for a reason... there's bound to be some kind of solution, so it's not unmanagable. The difficulty in this is, people, by nature, adapt to rather than confront unfavorable situations. Again, too many people in China, but no one's willing to work together to face the issue. How else do you explain the fact that despite being in one of the most densely populated cities in the world, Tokyo commutes are painless procedures where people understand the concept of fairness, priority, and a little thing called "circulating traffic" that allows people to get back home to their loved ones in a fast, if not reasonably acceptable timeframe?

Then again, maybe I am still an idealist. I've only been back here about a month. We'll see how my perception changes as time goes on.

Do Want - October edition

I don't care if you've been left and scorned by every single woman you've ever had the misfortune of attempting a romantic endeavor with. I don't care if you've seen the true face of the evil that mankind is capable of committing day in and day out as a forensic scientist working some of the grisliest murders this country has bared witness to. I don't care if you're Charles-fucking-Manson.

Just look at those things and try your best not to go "awwwww!!!111!11!!!one!!1!1!!!eleven!!!!"

Lookit widdle Kwatos! He's got his own miniature scowl and everything! All the God of War sackboys need are their own sacrificial virgins complete with two-toned boobies and unbelievably generous disposition to ravage, and you're set.

Yes, they keep them as pets, too

Our puppy Ein has now been fast asleep for the past hour and a half, and after a few minutes of debating, I ultimately decided to let 'im sleep. It's been a long day for all of us, as the entire day was spent first going an hour out of town, picking up the puppy, getting all of the necessary supplies (for the time being), and training the little scamp not to shit all around my apartment, but it was all worth it. At the end of the day, Zoe and I are proud owners of a two-and-a-half-month-old Corgi pup.

We decided against the name "Chewie" for aforementioned reasons, and after running through numerous names including Tas, Owen, and Carbunkle (see if you can spot the fantasy/Star Wars/loser references), we settled on naming our pup after the reason we so wanted a corgi in the first place: Ein, the lovable Welsh Pembroke Corgi from "Cowboy Bebop". If you're blatantly obvious, no one can call you out for being unoriginal.

Ein has a peculiar fascination with feet. When I tap the back of my heel against my sandal, he comes running full speed, sometimes slipping against the polished sheen of my pseudo-wood flooring. Likewise, when Zoe wears her panda slippers, Ein figures it's a good idea to chase her feet down and assert his dominance as the cutest furry creature in the household. Next to Sawyer, of course, who's been sitting in his cage the whole time wondering what the fuss is about.

Although it's my first time raising anything that requires to be let outside of the confines of a cage, I know Zoe and I will be good owners to this adventurous little creature that has already brought so many death-by-cuteness moments upon us in the span of a day.

Pictures, of course:

Pingyao

So, I'm back home from a three-day jaunt around the Shanxi province, specifically in Pingyao. Aside from the horrendous traffic getting out of and into Beijing, the trip was a blast. Pingyao is a Chinese 古城 or "Ancient City." Unlike modern-day Beijing but like former Beijing, Pingyao is surrounded on all sides by city walls, although the likelihood of a modern-day siege is doubtful.

What was interesting to me wasn't just the culture surrounding the area, but a more expanded idea (on a personal scale) of just how big China is, and how diverse the regions and its people are from one another. And despite all the differences, how similar, at the end of the day, the Chinese people really are. Our tram driver had difficulty saying a complete sentence without adding a "fuck your mother" in between or at the end of the sentence. I can only imagine how he'd respond if you asked him what he thought of the weather: "The weather's good, and your mother's a fucking cunt. How about you?" This is common lingo amongst all drivers throughout China, giving all travelers that warm and fuzzy feeling that they're never too far from home.

Being in China has made me all sorts of camera-whorish, so here be pictures.

The old woman in this picture is a master paper cutter. While in her shop, she wouldn't let me take pictures of her at work, but I managed to snap this shot of her walking down an alley all bad-ass-like.

While in the magistrate's quarters, we caught this demonstration of how the law was laid out back in the day. The magistrate in the middle of the picture sat around and posed for pictures, but I spared him his dignity by opting not to take a picture of him--up close, at least.

If I want to make any kind of physical contact with her in a picture, I gotta pay 6,000 RMB extra.

And last, but definitely not least, is a picture displaying Zoe's adorable tendencies towards older men. She has a long-lasting adoration towards Clint Eastwood, but not "Dirty Harry" or "A Fistful Of Dollars" Eastwood, rather "Million Dollar Baby" Eastwood.

I'm about two years older than Zoe, so I guess that qualifies me as an older man, even though I look like I'm 16. Ah well.

Good times, and the 国庆节 holiday has just started for us. Looks like we're getting that puppy tomorrow. And in gaming-related nonsense, I beat God of War: Chains of Olympus on Zoe's PSP from start to end during the trip. I keeps it real.