健康和快乐比什么都重要

"Health and happiness are more than important than anything else."

The subject of last week's lesson from 汉语口语, and a topic that's come up frequently since.

The very first thing I did in 2009 was board a train at four in the morning bound for a tiny village in Lianoning Province. It's name is Ge Jia Cun, and my connection with it is based on no more than the fact that my comrade-of-a-female-persuasion's mother once met one of its residents on a train and as I gather offered to help pay for their son's tuition during that journey. All of the families in this village are very poor, but life there isn't too bad because everyone has a roof, a heated stone bed (kang), probably a television and certainly an allotted area on the mountainside to grow pear trees (which size depends on the size of their family). I spent my time there helping out making corn dumplings, planting beans, breathing cigarette fumes and trying to avoid drinking too much or bankrupting every family that hosted me, as they would put quite literally everything they had in front of us at the dinner table (by which I mean kang).

During the summer we were invited back again to attend a wedding. This time was much the same, except everyone was wearing their best, drinking their most and spending money they'd carefully saved for many years to pay for it all. Meanwhile even I joined in the smoking (out of respect for local wedding traditions, you understand - and just one puff).

Fast forward to September, and the news from Ge Jia Cun is not so good. One of the women has contracted cancer, and in this country that would pride itself on a state that cares, her family now faces the prospect of unbearable debt or unbearable loss. The hospital in the nearest major city (Shenyang) told her they weren't capable of dealing with it, so they sent her to what is ostensibly the best one in China - where they have now removed who-knows-how-much of the cancer (and they're at no pains to explain it in much detail) at a cost of 25,000RMB. They have borrowed from everyone they know (what bank would help?) and will probably work decades to pay it off.

Here's a heartwarming aside: the hospital that bankrupted her family also charges for food - at prices far higher than you could find across the street at a regular restaurant. Like the others in the ward where I met her, she and her husband had since the operation forsaken all meals save for one bowl of rice gruel (zhou, tastier than the word "gruel" would imply) a day. That which we brought was of course refused, and then reluctantly accepted.

Her husband - who without enough income from the pear trees must risk his own life working on inner-city construction sites for half the year - now faces the prospect of more jobs and longer shifts. And if his wife needs another operation? Her stated wish is that she'd rather die than get them into more debt.

So when my teacher introduces the word 社会 ("society") with the example "China is a socialist society", I almost laugh out loud.

Of course, it will never be able to afford a state healthcare system unless it taxes its rich properly - and judging by this article there's a long way to go.

A change in the air

Finally we're moving into the best season in Beijing, which will last all of a few weeks before succumbing to the worst, and then the second-worst. As the leaves at Xiangshan turn to brilliant hues, we can all breathe a sigh of relief (or just breathe) as the atmosphere clears and the exposed Tsingtao-bellies are packed away.

Meanwhile preparations continue apace for the October extravaganza, with mysterious lines of empty buses pouring into campuses around the city to pick up students with nothing better to do, and schoolkids working through the holidays (sacrebleu!) so they can practice holding up tiny pieces of enormous Chinese characters. They had a whole run-through of the event at midnight a few nights ago, which rather worryingly must have meant a lot of bleary-eyed soldiers driving missile launchers up Chang'an Avenue - just one more reason not to go anywhere near the place for a month. "Everybody's going a bit crazy," said a friend at lunch today, as a security guard poured water into my glass in the 拾年咖啡, presumably because one of the regular girls is manning a tank somewhere.

好好学习... you know the rest

Started Chinese lessons yesterday under the terms of my new visa (I realise that makes it sound like a prison sentence). Me and 5 other clueless souls (he says to make himself feel less stupid) huddled around some warm textbooks coaxing our neurons into 汉语.

99% of the lesson is in Chinese, with the odd moment where our teacher (VPNTS*: find out her name) breaks into a mixed sentence that's even more difficult to follow.

Meanwhile, the armed forces and students of Beijing are preparing for a march on Tiananmen Square - only this time there'll be a pretty parade and lots of music and flowers. Yes folks, just one month to go until the 60th Anniversary of "New China". I wonder if CCTV will be outdone again?

* Very Public Note to Self

Renewed interest

I've just returned from a family visit to the UK, where I saw much-missed relatives and enjoyed clear air, rain and other homely delights. While I was there I also found the time to take a look at my old China diaries from 2005, and a thought I've often had before resurfaced: that keeping a journal is important for two reasons:

1. It will give you pleasure later in life.
2. It reminds you of your goals and progress, and thus keeps you sane (though not necessarily good).
   *
   

Regarding the second part, here's the narrative so far:

1. I completed an AIESEC internship for VanceInfo, which mostly involved teaching my charming colleagues English, learning Chinese, and eventually getting some technical work sent my way (as originally promised).
2. I helped a number of companies with freelance IT services, and am learning iPhone development for a project involving Chinese training for students and schools.
3. I'm about to start daily Chinese lessons at a language school in Wudaokou.
4. I've traveled to 20 Chinese cities, several towns, one S.A.R. and a tiny village in the mountains of Shandong.
5. I did some voluntary teaching (English for the elderly), was interviewed by TV crews twice, planted beans, got photos published in a magazine, went to a music festival, saw Eason Chan in concert, caught the Olympics in three different venues, got lost in the Confucius family graveyard, fought a hernaic fellow from Essex in Imperial garb, smoked and ate silk worm larvae with a factory boss on a train, experienced the joy of fire cupping, lost the will to live on a freezing holy mountain, been to a village wedding (and made a speech), saw a total solar Eclipse (partially), risked life and limb in all manner of vehicles and worn out umpteen pairs of shoes.

I close with the promise of more of this nonsense.

* 3. Narcissism.

---

Two places you should visit in Beijing:

St. Michael's Church on Dongjiao Minxiang, and the former legation quarter with its other surprises.

What? Bar on Beichang Jie.

The Games and I

If you'd asked me a month ago, I would have told you in regretful tones that despite living in the host city I didn't hold out much prospect of seeing anything. But thanks to several rounds of good fortune all that changed...


On the 8th of August I caught the opening ceremony of the XXIX Olympiad on a big screen in the Sanlitun area, next to the Apple store (yes really). I was with a large group of friends from AIESEC, the Chinese among them able to explain some of the more obtuse historical references in what everyone agreed was a memorable spectacle. The crowd was diverse and enthusiastic, with every country in the athletes' parade receiving a cheer and many inspiring spontaneous flag-waving, hip-shaking performances from those present. Yours truly made some noise for Team GB, but unfortunately lacked a giant flag.

The following week some friends arrived from the UK bearing good news - they had been able to obtain Olympic tickets back home! They were for women's football in the city of Tianjin. Here you expect me to say "beggars can't be choosers". Well that's true, but we were fortunate enough to see the Chinese women's team play - and as anyone here will tell you that's a lot more promising than a game featuring the national men's squad. You may be surprised to know that this was my first live football game experience - the result was a draw, but the crowd were impressed and generally respectful.

So all was well and good - during my friends' stay I was able to show off my Chinese, my boat-piloting abilities (again) and the not at all narcissistic article I had published in the company magazine.

Then cityweekend came through for me - deciding that my riff on the chances of Team GB's footballing glory (zero: they don't have a team) was adequately amusing to win their latest competition - and the prize was two tickets to see, well, you can guess. It was my fellow trainee Angel's last full day in Beijing before she headed back home to Hong Kong, so she seemed an appropriate choice for the other ticket (far more deserving than me anyway).

Italy vs. Belgium, men's teams! Naturally as a true Brit I supported the latter as underdogs, and we were both thrilled when they turned out to be less "under" than we thought. The style of play was in predictable contrast to that of the women; two red cards and four yellows were testament to that. Final result: 3-2 to Belgium. A great day was topped off with dinner at a conveniently-placed Belgian restaurant opposite the stadium, followed by 6 straight hours of KTV starting around midnight.

The next week another surprise. My quite ridiculously generous friend from work had ordered tickets to the athletics events, and... you can guess this part too. A sort of early birthday present.

So it's 20th August, and we ride the Olympic line (8 of course) to the big park, see the exhibitions, listen to some French women warbling at a small sort of concert - and catch sight of the new landmarks. The Bird's Nest really is stunning. From a distance it may appear menacing, even brutalist, but when you're close up the lights from inside and the fog of angles on every surface create the impression of something warm and alive. Its concourses are so vast and stairwells so numerous that 90,000 people may enter or leave without a crush, and the seating is more spaced out than at either of the other stadiums I visited.


Among the events we witnessed were:

• Usain Bolt winning the men's 200m sprint and capturing another world record
• The women's hammer throw - and lots of grunting
• Pole vaulting
• Women's 400m hurdles - and a bronze for Team GB's Natasha Danvers
• The medal ceremony for a very amusing Estonian discus-thrower who won gold the day before

Afterwards we wandered around the park at night, gawping at the Water Cube like everyone else.

So the Olympics have now finished. My closing ceremony venue was a bar in Sanlitun (the outdoor area there and Chaoyang park being packed). There were Brits, there was a big red bus, and there was Boris Johnson shambling around in front of a billion people. A less impressive spectacle overall, with 8-minute London segment generating universal confusion but not distaste.

I am loath to pontificate on the lasting impact on the city and the country until after the Paralympic Games, when the traffic will return and the foreign journalists fly home (having only scratched the surface). So that's your lot!

It's China's big day

Whatever your opinions on Beijing's eligibility to host this event or the value of sport itself - today is pretty momentous. In a little under 6 hours' time it's reckoned that two-thirds of the entire human family will turn their heads this way.

I'll likely be at Chaoyang Park South Gate, one of the umpteen "live sites" broadcasting an opening ceremony that promises to astound everybody. It's being directed by Zhang Yimou, once criticised and censored by the government for slamming the Cultural Revolution, now embraced and celebrated for his colourful and "apolitical" epics - a label he claims for himself despite having joined the CPPCC.

Of course everything is politics. The banners are everywhere; support for the Olympics is quite explicitly linked with love for a "united China" and for "scientific and harmonious development", the line oft repeated by Hu Jintao, keen to make a natty catchphrase his legacy.

But tonight I will stand in a smiling crowd of Beijingers and feel happy for them. The vast majority will be good people, to whom too many of us attribute the sins of the few.

In other news: I cooked my first omelette and my fish perished. The two are unrelated.

A proper AIESEC day

Today I had the kind of day that an AIESEC internship is uniquely able to create.

We're welcoming two new interns this week - one from Norway and one from Taiwan - and to celebrate we headed to Chaoyang Park. We rented a pedal-powered 6-seater and trundled around on the pavements discussing point scores for flattening various classes of pedestrian, rode the spinning roller coaster, log flume and spinny-octopus-thing and went to the Sony ExploraScience museum (great exhibits; shame about the café). Later we rented a boat and generally lazed around in under a perfect blue sky.

What a difference taking half the cars off the roads, shutting down the factories and the chance arrival of torrential rainfall makes! Yesterday we were able to see from the middle of town all the way North to the mountains. The city looks wonderful when it's clear.





This evening we went to the AIESEC office and each of us cooked something "native". I went for mashed potato. It was a resounding success (though I say it myself), despite the oddly coloured margarine and UHT milk that went into it. So far no-one has had to bring it back up again, and we all live in hope.



The Olympics start on Friday. We all have the afternoon off, so will either head to a sports bar or one of the humongous outdoor screens to catch the no-doubt arse-achingly long Opening Ceremony in Beijingovision.