Change: It's What Happens Here

Good evening friendly readers,

I think part of what made me take so long to come around to writing a blog is that there is really just too much to talk about when it comes to China. Newspaper headlines in the U.S. alone say it all, especially those speaking of booming economies and environmental issues. When it comes to such topics it is China, China, China, love it or hate it. The good news for me is that I also have a nearly inexhaustible list of topics at my disposal, so we’ll see how I do.

Today’s topic of the day, as shown by the post heading, is change as it relates to China, particularly Beijing. I thought about using the word “progress”, but immediately I paused to think about what that might convey. Yes, to a degree progress goes hand-in-hand with the China of today: economic progress, social progress (some might say), and progress made in standard of living – again, for some – to name a few. However, reread everything I just wrote in that last sentence, and you quickly see that the word “problematic”, this time an adjective and not a noun, also applies, along with a heaping pile of other nasty sounding adjectives and nouns (I also think the same can be said for other positive ways to describe China…ah, the circular logic and contradictions continue, what fun!). In short, I soon realized that progress was not what I meant. I was thinking about something more abstract and inconclusive, and hey, what better term for that than change.

As we’ve all likely heard by now, the buzzphrase for a while now as been about how much China has changed in such a short period of time. Since the passing of Mao and the Gaige Kaifang that soon followed (the Chinese term for the opening of China’s economy brought about by Deng Xiaoping in the late seventies), the country has been anything but static. There are so many examples to draw from, and it not solely out of my own personal laziness that I do not elaborate on this point in terms of what history books and newspapers write. Rather, I want to comment on specific, everyday changes I’ve witnessed firsthand in the city, and what they might mean for Beijing both now and in the future.

I’ll begin with the simplest example I can think of: construction (and demolition). Beijing is a huge city, about 14 million registered citizens, and its size is reflected not only by its booming population but also how ridiculously spread out it is (think of cities like Houston to get my drift). Hence the name of my blog. It was given in honor of a description that fits Beijing for more reasons than one. But back to the story. Since Beijing is big, it came as no surprise for me to find construction of buildings, roads, subway lines, bridges, apartments, you name it, all over the place. My sister, whom many of you know, is also living in Beijing (yes, I know, how adorable – two siblings in the same city. Please. KIDDING! I love my sister and I feel incredibly fortunate that we’re both here at the same time). When I arrived in Beijing one of the first things I did was go visit my sister’s apartment. On my walk over from where a cab dropped me off, I couldn’t help but notice that the sidewalk was being torn up on the other side of the street. I didn’t give much thought to it at the time. However, mere days later I stopped by my sister’s place, and they had the sidewalk complete done, smoothed over, and people busily tramping upon it. Now, I’m no sidewalk-laying expert, but this is a long street that I’m talking about here and quite frankly I had never seen progress (there, I used it!) over road construction achieved so quickly. Then again, I’m from Minnesota so I might have an especially skewed perspective.

Seriously though, I tell this otherwise commonplace observation because it exemplifies just how far down the food chain change winds itself here. If a sidewalk is given that much priority, then think about what these lightening-quick turnarounds might mean for more important matters.

As an aside, honestly, in one respect I find this topic rather difficult to write about for two reasons:

1) No matter how many examples I give, I can do no true justice to the rate and volume at which change is occurring.
2) I know for a fact that even I don’t grasp the full meaning behind change as it exists in China, and that is for the simple reason that I just don’t understand or appreciate it enough yet. I only have what I read about in the news, what I hear from others, and what I observe day-to-day to reinforce my views. Then again, isn’t that what we all rely upon in the end? Ok, I feel better now.

Another quick example to consider is a new pedestrian bridge that went up near one of Beijing’s five train stations, the west one. In early September I remember crossing the street to the station to see my meimei (Chinese for younger sister. More specifically, she is the only child of my home stay family parents) off to Shanghai, where she goes to college. Less than a month later I returned to the same street to make the same walk across, only to find that a bridge was now there for my family and me to conveniently use to cross over the traffic. Again, I don’t know what the record time is for constructing something like that, but I have never seen such efficiency displayed back in the states.

One final example of construction has to do with restaurants and housing developments. My university, Beijing Waiguoyu Daxue (Beijing Foreign Studies University, also known as “Bei Wai”), has its campus divided into two main sections: east and west campus, respectively. I live on the west side and have all my classes there, but this particular description takes place on the east side. There was a fantastic noodle shop on this side of the street that my classmates and I would frequent whenever the craving struck us. Unfortunately, after during only our first visit, we noticed that areas surrounding the shop were marked with spray-paint for demolition. While a bit odd, I did not think too much of it because it did not seem to pertain to my coveted noodle supplier. However, in the weeks to follow I saw a group of workers clearing out the building next to the shop, and I began to grow worried. After early a month’s hiatus, due largely in part to a trip to Xinjiang (the autonomous region in northwestern China – an awesome place I promise to write about in a forthcoming post), just this evening I walked to the same area just to poke my head around. I didn’t even have to turn off from the main road running between the two sides of campus. From more than a hundred yards away I could see a large, black fence behind which there were only piles of rubble, and much to my disappointment, no noodle shop in sight. This topic was not discussed among anyone I knew, including teachers who live in that same part of the neighborhood. The demolishment simply happened (there’s probably more to it than what I’m describing, but if there is I don’t know about it) and that’s that.

Well, not entirely. From my perspective – and maybe some of yours – this rapid development/change/bulldozing (take your pick) has caught my eye and is something I now look for more and more every day. It is a symbol of a market economy as impatient as any in the world, of a government that decides firmly and decisively, and of a community that, from the looks of it, can do nothing but stand idly by and watch (whether people here want to or not is another thing).

Just to show that it’s not all in the construction, I saw yet other examples of quick, evident changes with respect to the Beijing street vendors. These vendors are ubiquitous here, and can be found on nearly ever sidewalk and side street, hawking everything from kabobs and yams (the yams being a sign that autumn is finally here in Beijing) to pirated DVDs and books. This crowd is a fascinating bunch to watch, and usually even more relentless to deal with in person, though they more than make up for it with their absurdly low prices. Maybe in a later post I will talk more about my experiences buying and bargaining with these guys. For now, back to the story: I bring the vendors up because there a common problem the government – and more specifically the police – faces here is how address unlicensed vendors, people who are selling where they have no (legal) right no be. As a case in point, every day to go from west to east campus I walk under the main road through a small tunnel reminiscent of those you see in subway stations. Usually this tunnel is packed with vendors on each side, and man, you should see this place at night! Oh how it comes alive with people crowding around to get at some of the noodles or kabobs or other skewered treats sold. It’s predominately young people, most students, and you almost feel like you’re in the quad or student center at your respective university rather than in a tunnel connecting two sides of a road.

Well, I had grown pretty accustomed to seeing this nightly crowd, so I was shocked to one day find the place completely empty, save the people hurriedly passing through and the two police guards sharply dressed and standing at erect attention, one at each end of the tunnel. It was then that it hit me: I had been warned by the associate director of my study abroad program (also my sociology teacher for the semester) in class about the tendency for the government to send in “crack-down” teams to address the illegal occupation of the vendors. More often than not these “economic police” (as they’re called here) rarely make arrests, as their mere presence is enough to send the sellers packing/fleeing in every direction but that of the police. If word doesn’t get out fast enough of the economic police’s arrival, it is common for the lawbreakers to pay (read: bribe) the police to either avoid arrest or to continue selling at the given location for however many days the law enforcers will allow. The associate director said that usually the economic police’s stay was temporary, and that it was common for vendors to return within hours, or even minutes, and carry on with business as usual. Therefore, my initial shock of having viewed this process, or really the after effects as I never saw the actual “raid”, stayed with me throughout the week as each day I would walk down to the tunnel expecting to find the vendors, only to see the same sight of emptiness and two stern looking guards. Interestingly enough, the vendors did not disappear completely (and therefore the original problem never fully addressed), but rather some of the braver ones relocated just outside the east entrance to the tunnel, evidently far enough away to satisfy the guards.

Finally, this past weekend, by some accord unbeknownst to me, the vendors reappeared, and the guards were suddenly nowhere to be seen. I exhaled deeply, as if I had been holding my breath all weeks in the small hope that the little guys would win out, and thought, “this time for sure things are back to normal”. Less than twenty-four hours later I was again proven wrong. The econo-cops (guards) were back, this time donning winter jackets due to the recent drop in temperature here. To my most recent knowledge, at this point the tunnel vendors are either just outside the reach of the guards or otherwise unaccounted for, but this, like many things in China, is subject to change.