北京麻雀 (Sparrows of Beijing)
北 Beijing 2008 - 6
6
On a condo on the First Row
2008
Not what you would call, a glamorous condominium – more duteous and sparer. Though it was large for all of that. It had two bedrooms, a living room, and a full kitchen – which made it very large for something so close into the city. It was not design by a consultant because it had little beauty or feng shui. What would irk a more fastidious traveller,1 was the blooms of laundry they gathered to and from, red like the flag, with gold stars here and there like twins. Once a week a hardworking maid came in and industriously cleaned things up, otherwise, the word “mess” did not do it justice. Mathematically, clean was a point, and mess was a black line. (An exciting inadequate container of theory that rains continuously.)
Here, it was no problem to actually see Tiananmen from here in all of its grand glory. Which was like taking a picture of the White House in America – all that was centered here in the name of government.2 It should also be noted that they were on a very high floor making it black silk. If one knew the socio-dynamics, one would guess that the owner of this building was either very rich – which could not be the case because there were very few accouterments – or very highly placed inside the government. This was true, but it was not the current owner of the place but her father who had died rather early, leaving her to inherit.
Herewith, you looked outside through the enormous window, you could see not only Tiananmen Square but the entire place where one city was being replaced by another. The older city was, primarily, flat and basically of one and two stories, many of them hutong, which had been called a small alley in Chinese – a style of architecture from the Empire and the Republic. But this was rapidly being replaced “by the vast evolution into a modern metropolis” - as one publication deftly put it. There were small rectangular bricks, much longer than the Western kind, and even greyer than even the grey ones of London. Therein each hutong there stood siheyuan – the small buildings that housed. At every doorway, there was an air conditioner, because it became rather hot. The doorways were painted red or egg white, both to welcome those who were friends and keep out anyone who was not invited there. This duality was part of the culture. He could see a few hutongs left, but they were being cleared out for new high-rises, like the one he was standing in. If he stood on one leg, he could feel the swaying of this building, because it was not built for permanence. And even the lease said it was only owned for 50 years. Then he looked back into the dining room and saw her watching the enormous television set and drinking tea. This is all she had for breakfast because she wanted to be thinner for him. And while she was in no way thinner, she was thinner than she had been – and he noticed that, and while they were close his hands clung to her in an affectionate way.
“Do you not think it is beautiful? Though I would rather like it to be less cloudy.”
“Yes, it is gorgeous in a Party way, but I rather suspect that Beijing will be cloudy as time goes by, it will be only on certain occasions when the party wants things to be with a blue sky. The rest of the time, they will not care if it is cloudy. They have other things on their mind. Dictators love the people to be united. It makes it so much easier to kill the dissenters all at once and bury them in a one-year-old field with a mouth.”
“For example, last time I came here, there was only light traffic on the rings around the city. Now for about two hours in the morning and two in the afternoon, it might as well have been a parking lot for all the good the rings are. It's obvious that traffic is not their primary concern but the wealth that the cars bring in.”
“I believe he said in a message: Never be the meatware in a spam-cycle. It is one of those lessons in the consulting book. Thus, I take the Metro. We are young but getting old before our time.”3
“They would fine you rather than punish you for that.”
“The resources have to go somewhere.”
There were the rings around the city, ring number one is the most inwardly facing, and there are rings after that. And he was right about how they clogged up in the morning and in the evening to the point where no one moved. She actually had a car but took the Metro to work, it was quicker. The only people who took the rings were people who were coming in from a long way. This meant, of course, they did not have the pull to get themselves an apartment that was close to their work. In this, as with everything else, either money or “Guangxi” got you the better apartment. Everyone else needed to drive much further away.
“So, I have to go in to work at the firm. Why don’t you spend some time wandering around and meet me someplace?”
“Where do you have in mind?”
“Why not me here at 7 o'clock, and I will take you to a restaurant which I think you would like. It is, of course, Beijing-style cuisine, but I know that you like that.” As she did this, she put some things into her bag and started upwards by accident as if by a tripod with a small opening.
“That seems pleasant, I will meet you down at the lobby.” He reached into his pocket and jangled an eighth of a tael of ancient coins.
“Just remember that the girl by the elevators has to push the keys - it is her job, and she takes it very seriously. Even the useless half to have a job. Oh, there is a book by Muir, I pick it up for you.” There was an interlude of him waxing aesthetic over one chapter of a bread famine: “The airs beyond the flock range full of the essences of the woods is growing sweeter and more fragrant from day to day, like ripening fruit.” She glared over the teacup at him with a wicked grin, with the other hand holding a black book. But she was thinking about the girl. The Capitalists would not have a use for her, and the Communists would do something useful - and though the People's Republic was technically communist, in truth it was neither one nor the other; the Politburo liked it that way because almost all of the rings of power were in their hands. There was a large amount of corruption, woe to the people who got themselves caught - though they would not send a bill for the 9mm, they would do everything short of that - and no one would mention the name again. They both knew that already, it was the anatomy of revolution, or a trip to the Finland Station – as Farrar, Straus, and Giroux might say it at 11 PM on a Friday night. A small blue thing like a young head bounced by for the older sisters on the street who observed the projecting teeth.4
They walked out of the apartment, and down to the main floor. They both needed to eat and since he was with her, she indulged herself by having a croissant at the building across the street. A chewed and looked out bunches of creamy white flowers in the flowerpots on the street lamps. The normal course was to have a long thin - almost tasteless – dessert. Or so-called dessert, but it might have well been a desert for all the taste it had - there were rumors that it had sawdust in it around the hoed-up soil. But now there were numerous bakeries which had rather excellent food – purple seeds for majesty. So, it is only the poor who eat such things. There was even Starbucks along many of the main billions of boulevards, though they were rather expensive for most people who slept in dregs. She turned once and gestured over the smooth off-white towering walls as if to gesture, “да” as if to stab.5 A symbol. A letter. A character. A word. She disliked the white tinted walls.
But in Beijing, people were actually paid something like a reasonable wage. Or at least the top part of the wage scale. The rest of the people did what they were told to do – which is why at 5 o'clock people were scrubbing the streets for two dollars a day and getting soaked. And there were young men who guarded the streets, in bright green uniforms throwing of restraint. If one was not part of the lower society, one did not mention them at all. Or you would whisper, only to hope that one stayed above the female of domestic animals who are struck every day. “нет?”6
“Do you know what you are going to do today?” It was a question with some intent from her, but not too much. She waited for his response. He wants me but only part of the time.7 It was clear that the crisis was driving the spirit from the corner of his eye.8 Like rotted meat spinning with flies.
There were people choosing a breakfast dish or deciding whether to take it out or stay in with a thick slice of meat to succor their conversation. Once again, there was only her face which remained fixed, since all others were in motion. ἀπὸ μηχανῆς Θεός.9 In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
1 Intentional.
2 In her fine script, Ardelle Li signed in her penmanship:
I can’t breathe
Saturday White House
Surrounded 1.7 miles
The Nixon Fence returns
Racism, policism, down at Lafayette
Assembled thousands
Homemade bromides
8:46 Chauvin
Killed while sleep Black
Mountain Stone
Evolution metaphor
Internationale infamous to the elites
Protests capital capitol
Meet the Press
Pandemic participants
consistently community completely college
Unfamiliar South Tekklit
No justice, no peace.
3 Joe Jackson, “Steppin' Out”
4 Reference to Suzanne Vega, “Small Blue Thing”
5 Yes.
6 No.
7 'Til Tuesday, “Voices Carry”
8 Doctrorow, Ragtime Chapter 29
9 Deus ex machina