woman who had been sitting quietly. âThatâs the one drawback of Beijing people: We are afraid of rocking the boat. This is not the Cultural Revolution anymore.â Nonetheless, she refused to let me use her name in the story, though the others were bolder.
This was the first time I had seen the Old Beijing at war with the new Beijing, and it seemed like a cultural revolution of sorts to me. Angry grannies were the ones rocking the boat while nouveau riche bar owners spouted ancient wisdom about fate. Beijing was topsy-turvy.
We stayed in the apartment for almost two hours listening to the same stories told over and over again, hostages to unstoppable windup toys. My limited Chinese skills did not include how to politely end a conversation; I always had to wait for others to initiate the elaborate ritual. But having gotten my story, all my tension melted away and I sat in a glowing haze that verged on the postcoital. I imagined tossing the petition onto Sueâs desk with a casual âthereâs your storyâ élan. I wished someone would offer me a cigarette but instead they kept pouring tea, so we kept nodding until they dismissed us.
Chapter Five
Miss, Youâre Not a Beijinger, Are You?
A s I was checking the proofs of
City Edition
before it went to press, I saw a classified ad for a rental. (âOne bedroom, furnished, great location. 2000 rmb/month. Call Constantine at 13-7555-3334.â) I called immediately and a man with an Australian accent told me he was giving up his big dream of trying to sell bread makers to the Chinese people and moving back home. His landlords were nice and he wanted to find new tenants for them.
âGive it a few years,â I reassured him. âTheyâll be clamoring for bread makers.â
He told me the apartment was on a road just off of the East Third Ring Road. Beijing is laid out concentrically like an onion with the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square in the center. Kublai Khan built the original walled city in the thirteenth century as an earthly mirror of the heavenly order, laying out the streets according to rules dictated in an ancient book of cosmological rules. The city was situated on a strict north-south axis with the imperial palace placed at the cross of the axes, symbolizing the contact point between heaven and earth. The east-westaxis is now the Avenue of Eternal Peace, the palace the tourist destination known as the Forbidden City, and the streets around it the old city of hutongs and courtyard houses where my relatives lived. Chairman Mao had demolished the old city wall and made it into the Second Ring Road. Outside of that was modern Beijing. Then came the Third Ring Road. Then this apartment, which I went to go see.
The narrow road the building was on felt just beyond the edge of the universe. One of the shops just outside the gate was a sex shop. But the apartment had four walls, a ceiling and a floor, a flush toilet, and hot water. I paid Constantine for the newly installed metal security door as well as for the price of the classified ad (he was indignant that Iâd nabbed the ad before it was published), and the apartment was mine. His bad fortune was my good fortune. It was the first sign that the city wanted me to stay.
When I told Bobo and Bomu that I was moving out, I could see they were relieved. It had been a long month for all of us.
âYouâre living alone?â asked Bobo.
âYes.â
âDonât you want a roommate?â asked Bomu.
âNo.â
âBe careful. If people know a woman is living alone, theyâll wait for her to come home at night,â said Bobo.
âAnd then?â
âI read it in the newspaper.â
âHow much are you paying?â asked Bomu. I hesitated, almost dividing the number in half as I routinely did when they asked their favorite question. But who cared anymore?
âTwo thousand.â About two hundred and fifty dollars.
âTwo
This was the first time I had seen the Old Beijing at war with the new Beijing, and it seemed like a cultural revolution of sorts to me. Angry grannies were the ones rocking the boat while nouveau riche bar owners spouted ancient wisdom about fate. Beijing was topsy-turvy.
We stayed in the apartment for almost two hours listening to the same stories told over and over again, hostages to unstoppable windup toys. My limited Chinese skills did not include how to politely end a conversation; I always had to wait for others to initiate the elaborate ritual. But having gotten my story, all my tension melted away and I sat in a glowing haze that verged on the postcoital. I imagined tossing the petition onto Sueâs desk with a casual âthereâs your storyâ élan. I wished someone would offer me a cigarette but instead they kept pouring tea, so we kept nodding until they dismissed us.
Chapter Five
Miss, Youâre Not a Beijinger, Are You?
A s I was checking the proofs of
City Edition
before it went to press, I saw a classified ad for a rental. (âOne bedroom, furnished, great location. 2000 rmb/month. Call Constantine at 13-7555-3334.â) I called immediately and a man with an Australian accent told me he was giving up his big dream of trying to sell bread makers to the Chinese people and moving back home. His landlords were nice and he wanted to find new tenants for them.
âGive it a few years,â I reassured him. âTheyâll be clamoring for bread makers.â
He told me the apartment was on a road just off of the East Third Ring Road. Beijing is laid out concentrically like an onion with the Forbidden City and Tiananmen Square in the center. Kublai Khan built the original walled city in the thirteenth century as an earthly mirror of the heavenly order, laying out the streets according to rules dictated in an ancient book of cosmological rules. The city was situated on a strict north-south axis with the imperial palace placed at the cross of the axes, symbolizing the contact point between heaven and earth. The east-westaxis is now the Avenue of Eternal Peace, the palace the tourist destination known as the Forbidden City, and the streets around it the old city of hutongs and courtyard houses where my relatives lived. Chairman Mao had demolished the old city wall and made it into the Second Ring Road. Outside of that was modern Beijing. Then came the Third Ring Road. Then this apartment, which I went to go see.
The narrow road the building was on felt just beyond the edge of the universe. One of the shops just outside the gate was a sex shop. But the apartment had four walls, a ceiling and a floor, a flush toilet, and hot water. I paid Constantine for the newly installed metal security door as well as for the price of the classified ad (he was indignant that Iâd nabbed the ad before it was published), and the apartment was mine. His bad fortune was my good fortune. It was the first sign that the city wanted me to stay.
When I told Bobo and Bomu that I was moving out, I could see they were relieved. It had been a long month for all of us.
âYouâre living alone?â asked Bobo.
âYes.â
âDonât you want a roommate?â asked Bomu.
âNo.â
âBe careful. If people know a woman is living alone, theyâll wait for her to come home at night,â said Bobo.
âAnd then?â
âI read it in the newspaper.â
âHow much are you paying?â asked Bomu. I hesitated, almost dividing the number in half as I routinely did when they asked their favorite question. But who cared anymore?
âTwo thousand.â About two hundred and fifty dollars.
âTwo
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