Spring?

I could have swore someone told me that Spring Festival ushers in a wave of warm temperatures in Beijing. Today, like so many mornings before, I was surprised to fine a nice layer of snow on the ground. I had to find my boots and winter jacket, which I'd put away for the season.


EVERYONE SHOVELS: When it snows, everyone shovels; police officers, security guards, hotel staff and common people alike


DUTY OF THE PEOPLE: Protecting the people and providing security aren't the only duties of the Public Security Bureau

Seen Around Beijing

I saw this vehicle parked near my apartment complex. A pink Jeep Cherokee. Pink. As I stopped to take a picture, so too did three other people with their camera phones. Pink isn't exactly a common color for cars, or anything else, in Beijing, so naturally it was drawing a lot of attention. I waited around to see if the driver would return but after ten minutes decided to leave. A pink Jeep in Beijing -- weird.

Family Visit

My Mom, brother and one of my mom's friends will be traveling to China to visit for two weeks in April. We've been planning the trip for a few months. My parents were initially going to visit in the fall, but since I came home for two weeks, they postponed their China trips. Only my mom and brother will be here -- my dad has another obligation and will be visiting over the summer.

It will be nice to see them and show them around the city I call currently call home.


FILE PHOTO: My mom, brother and I at the Newark Airport in September 2009

Winter Day at the Summer Palace

Looking to do a little sightseeing and jump back into the role of a tourist, I decided to visit the Summer Palace. My friend Mike, from China Daily, hadn't seen the royal summer grounds yet and I wanted to actually see the palace instead of walking around the entire lake area (recall, the last time I visited the Summer Palace I was taking part in a "race").

Much like the Forbidden City, everything about the Summer Palace is elegant. Built on the side of a small hill overlooking a lake, which was expanded a few times to accommodate the needs of the numerous royal families that used the lake during the summer months, each building has an individual design with intricate carvings and vibrant colors. Red is everywhere.

The lake was all but drained, with a few icy patches near the center. Despite the "Do Not Walk in the Lake" signs, a large number of people were out and about, slipping and sliding their way across the once-full lake instead of walking around it.

But one of the more impressive aspects of the Summer Palace is the marble ship docked next to the main palace buildings. The ship is exactly as the name describes it -- a boat made of stone. While not meant to actually float, the Marble Boat was more of a symbol of longevity, that the current dynasty would last as long as the stone used in the ship. The funds used to build the structure were originally earmarked for a new Chinese navy.

There were a few other special festivities as part of the Spring Festival and, of course, food. But unlike my previous visit to the Summer Palace, I opted out of walking around the whole lake. Maybe in the early summer months, when it's a bit warmer.

New Year's Day...again

Happy New Year...again.

I went to one of the many miao hui (temple festivals) today. Full of fun, food and typical carnival stuff nobody should ever buy (but do anyway) the festival reminded me of the many fairs I went to as a child back home -- only there were about six times the number of people crowded into the small park I was walking around.

Aside from incense burning, I was disappointed to see that everything seemed to have a Western feel to it. The games all had prizes of big stuffed animals, many from Western cartoons. I also didn't get to see the dancing dragon cutouts (you know the ones) that I see in all the movies.

But like all festivals, the food was good, and cheap.


YEAR OF THE TIGER: It may be my Chinese zodiac year, but those kind of stripes are not my style


WHAT'S UP DOC?: Not sure why Bugs Bunny was at the festival. He must have thought 2010 was the year of the "wabbit"


CARNIE GAMES: Pictured are large stuffed animals that are impossible to win and over priced to play for


RED, RED, RED: Apparently, during a person's "year," they are to surround themselves with red and wear or carry an article of red clothing or red object with them at all times to ward off evil spirits

Let There Be Light

The bombardment began around 8 a.m. Saturday morning. Someone outside my apartment complex decided to start setting off fireworks at that time and not stop until later the next morning. Around midday, a slew of other people in the neighboring communities followed suit and by nightfall the city was full with a variety of fireworks lighting the night sky.

It was time for Chinese New Year.

POP. EEEEEEEEEeeeee. CRACK!

To be honest, it sounded like a war zone, if not for the bright red and green colors in the sky.

I decided to find a nice open area to enjoy the show -- Hou Hai, the lake area I enjoyed visiting during the warmer summer and fall months. I arrived at about 11:30 an already fireworks were going off. Then, minutes before midnight, all across the city trails of light and smoke could be seen.

A few people setting off fireworks got a little trigger happy with their displays. A round or two went off feet from where I was standing and it wasn't till the next morning that I got my hearing back.

The display itself was amazing. I read somewhere that the fireworks set off in Beijing are the largest, uncoordinated (and probably unsafe) show in the world. I think I may have seen more red, green and white explosions in 30 minutes, all around me, than I have in the last 23 years. It was awesome.

The mess afterward was equally awesome. Heaps upon heaps of red paper littered the streets across Beijing. Smoke filled the air (in the video, notice how the visibility in the area quickly deteriorates). I smelled like sulfur and gun powder by the time I left.

I think the fireworks, at least in my area, stopped around 3 or 4 a.m. That's when I finally fell asleep -- and was promptly woken up around 8:30 a.m. with a new round of explosions.


TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT: I tried to use as many trees and Chinese people for cover as I could while video taping the firework display


CITY VIEW: Fireworks went off across the city and nation, possibly visible from space (much like the Great Wall)


SO MUCH FOR THE RULES: A warning sign outside my apartment. Off camera is a group of Chinese setting off a chain of firecrackers


THE MORNING AFTER: Walking to the super market to buy groceries for breakfast, I was greeted with a bang... literally


FOLLOW THE RED COVERED ROAD: The street outside my apartment was blanketed in red paper from the remains of fireworks that had been set off since 8 a.m. Saturday morning

Eye of the Tiger

While the Gregorian calendar celebrated the beginning of the new year on January 1, the much more interesting Chinese year begins on February 14. I say "more interesting" because each Chinese year represents a different animal. Last year was the Year of the Ox, and the year before that was the Year of the Rat. But this year, this year is special. 2010 marks the Year of the Tiger, but, more importantly, it is my year.

The Chinese New Year revolves around 12 animals: rat, ox, tiger, rabbit, dragon, snake, horse, sheep, monkey, rooster, dog and pig. For some reason, the panda -- which is the Chinese equivalent of the American eagle as a symbol of the nation --was excluded from the list.

Much like our monthly zodiacs, each animal has certain characteristics. Those born in the year of the dog are loyal and obedient people. Tigers are strong passionate people, but are often impatient.

The Lunar New Year begins on February 14 (also Valentine's Day). Celebrations usually begin the day before (or two days before) and last throughout the following week.

Goodbye old friend

For as long as I remember, there’s been a cat who called my house home. When I was young, I think the number of feline friends numbered eight, coming in all shapes, sizes and colors.

But the one I remember most came to us when I was in the fifth grade. Her name was Snowball, and if you can’t guess by the name (and pictures) she was a furry white cat.

She lived with us for twelve years, with three other cats. Over the years, as Snowball aged, she lost her hearing, ate less and lost weight and began to lose mobility in her legs. But as sick as she was, she always pushed on. For an “old lady,” as my mom called her, she was actually quite chipper, running around and behaving like a much younger cat. She still kept our other cats in line, starting fights if someone ate her food or took a nap in her spot.

But last week Snowball’s health took a turn for the worse. My dad emailed me to say Snowball had suddenly become sick and was going to the vet. Later that evening, I got another email.

Snowball hadn’t come home. After tests, the vet said she had some kind of cancer and fluid surrounding her heart. She was in a lot of pain and there wasn’t much that could be done.

Snowball was -- not by choice -- my cat. She liked my room best and could often be found sleeping on my bed. Even when I went away to college, she would still sleep in my room, waiting for me.

When I was home in September, I could tell she was glad to see me. She would follow me around, or search me out when I was in different parts of the house. And she always wanted to sit on my lap when I was in the middle of reading or working on my laptop.

I enjoyed the time at home, especially seeing my cats, because I somehow knew this would probably be the last time I saw Snowball -- her last winter as part of our family. I'd be gone another year -- a long time in cat years -- and it seemed Snowball was reaching the end of her life.

Before leaving for the airport, I found all four of my cats, saying goodbye to each of them, but my goodbye for Snowball was different. This wasn't a "See you later" goodbye. This was goodbye, forever.

Snowball was sitting on one of our radiators, in the sun. There was enough space for two other cats, but when Snowball sits on the radiator, she likes to sit by herself. The other cats, out of fear, seem to acknowledge this, sometimes. I patted her on the head. Goodbye old friend, I thought to myself. Goodbye.

New housemates

Vivian moved out last week. Her lease was up and she wanted a change of scenery.

So now I have two new housemates -- Prudence and Stephi.

Prudence comes from London, working in Beijing with the British Council. Her job involves climate change work. She's been in Beijing for three months.

Stephi is from Indonesia. She's here in Beijing, where I'm guessing she lives with her boyfriend part of the week -- she's absent from the apartment most days --and works the remainder of the time at a restaurant.

Let it Snow

I woke up yesterday to a pleasant inch of snow on the ground. It was nice seeing weather that resembled the sporadic conditions of Pennsylvania - nice and sunny one day followed by a snowstorm the next. This morning (Sunday) I woke up to an additional three inches, which soon totaled a few more inches by the end of the day.

It's a week late and a white Christmas instead of just a cold Christmas would have been nice, but hey, some snow is better than no snow.

I hate the cold, but I love snow. There's just something about waking up to a fresh coat of the powdery mix, putting on my boots, a scarf and gloves, and taking to the streets. This time, I was able to find snow people. No Snow Mao's, but amusing snow figures none-the-less.

Yes, I love the snow... as long as I don't have to shovel it.

Breaking with Tradition

For the past three years I've spent New Year's Eve in New York City. I wasn't there for the pan-ultimate New Year's experience of standing in Times Square as the ball drops, but rather to spend the holiday with my best friend, Mike Roman, his girlfriend and their families in Brooklyn and Queens.

But this year, my global location prevented me from making the two hour pilgrimage to NYC. Needless to say, New Year's wasn't the same.

Mike and I were roommates in college at Penn State University our freshman and sophomore years. I'd say we became friends out of necessity - we lived in supplemental housing with five other guys and the rest of our floor was predominantly girls - but how we became such good friends is somewhat of a mystery.

Mike - a Puerto Rican-Dominican who's lived in Brooklyn almost his whole life - always wore fitted hats and used terms like "Sup son" and "What's poppin yo" while I was from a small town in the Coal Region and apparently had a funny accent. Mike didn't know Penn State had a football team, let alone a good football team, while I'd been bleeding blue and white for some years. But we did share an unbreakable addiction to Jeopardy, watching the TV show almost every night and keeping score (last I checked, the score was 54-3 in my favor).

Somewhere along the line, I was invited to Brooklyn for New Year's, probably because Mike was too scared to come to Tamaqua, land of the white man.

The holiday has become something I looked forward to every year. I've been able to meet Mike's older brothers and his girlfriend's, Gianelle, family (the WHOLE family). Mike and Gianelle's families have always welcomed me into their homes for the annual event and I've always enjoyed the evening. The Hispanic food is always great, the music is lively and it's kind of nice being the minority for a change. Everyone always has an interest in my small town in the woodlands of Pennsylvania.

This year I had to break that tradition, spending New Year's with a new group of foreign friends: the French.

Through my former roommate, Alexia, I made quite a few French friends. And let me tell you, they know how to celebrate the holidays.

But as much as I enjoyed my Beijing New Year, part of me wished I were home with my friends, or that my friends from home were here in Beijing.

The food this year was good, but it wasn't the delicious plates of chicken and other Spanish-like assortments I was used to. The music was fun but it wasn't the same as Suavemente or the playlist at Gianelle's house.

New Year's in Beijing was full of fun and new friends, one of the best holiday's I've celebrated in a while. But it won't beat Brooklyn.


FILE PHOTO: Mike Roman (left) wearing one of his 6,000 hats (no joke)

Beijing Review New Year's

Click the link to see the staff of Beijing Review. Look for me in the Editorial Department photo.

Beijing Christmas Brunch

Food possibilities are endless in Beijing. Chinese, German, American, French, Spanish, Mexican, Pakistani, Japanese, Russian, etc. But for Christmas I wanted something simple, much like my Thanksgiving dinner at the Great Wall. Instead of just finding a Mom-and-Pop style restaurant with turkey and mashed potatoes, I gave in to suggestions from my other foreign friends and went to the Beijing Kempinski -- one of the major hotels in Beijing.

The dinner was buffet style, but had more than just the typical Christmas necessities. At my fingertips was duck, goose, various sea creatures, vegetables of all sorts, desserts-a-plenty, wine, wine and more wine, venison (sorry Rudolph) and -- an unexpected treat -- prime rib. I haven't had prime rib since coming to China and I probably wouldn't have the opportunity to eat it again until I go home, so I piled my plate.

I joined my former China Daily boss, Mike Peters (who also went to the Great Wall Thanksgiving dinner), for the late afternoon Christmas brunch. I got there around 1 p.m. and made several journeys up and down the buffet line until it closed around 3 p.m.

Although a bit expensive, the live music, ice sculptures, Christmas trees and overall atmosphere was worth the price. I mean, where else (even at home) would I get to have goose, duck and prime rib on Christmas?



Food, food, food.

I made Mike wear the Santa hat. The night before, he was "volunteered" to be Santa at the China Daily Christmas party.

A Barbie doll sized ginger bread house.

There were a lot more people there than are in this photo. They must have all gotten up to get more food.

I'll Be Homesick for Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and throughout Beijing Review,
Not a [Chinese] soul knew it was the holiday, no one had a clue.
And yes I had my spirit, and my Coal Region Christmas cheer,
But I was stuck working, while my friends were out drinking beer
(and probably eggnog too).

That about sums up my Christmas Eve this year. Just as I wound up working on Thanksgiving, so too did I find myself in the office late Thursday reading over pages and making last minute corrections to the magazine. All the while, some of my other friends were out celebrating Christmas at bars and pubs across Beijing. I had even been invited to a church service somewhere in the city.

I should note this is my first Christmas away from home. The first Christmas I won't see my family for this momentous holiday. This first Christmas I won't go to church and sing every [single] Christmas song (minus Frosty the Snowman and Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer) known to man. And the first Christmas I won't be able to open gifts with my family under a proper Christmas tree. It's a lot of firsts, and not ones I'm particularly glad to be dealing with.

A week ago my parents sent me a Christmas package with all the essentials to make me feel as if I were home (sort of). Included were: a Christmas stocking, small gifts for the Christmas stocking, a small fiber-optic Christmas tree with changing colored lights, Christmas candy and Christmas cards and photos. It was a truly wonderful package.

I'll admit, in the weeks leading up to the holiday, I've been a bit anxious. A few of my Beijing friends were heading back to the States, traveling or had already left China for their home countries. It seemed like Christmas was going to be pretty bleak this year.

And then I got homesick. Not extremely homesick but enough to make me want to do Christmas things I never did back home, like go Christmas caroling or bake Christmas cookies. Or even go ice skating on a real frozen lake. Since I'd heard from friends and family that practically the entire East Coast of the United States had been blanketed in about a foot of snow, I even began to miss shoveling the welcomed, yet dreaded, white powder from the sky. Beijing is just cold and windy this time of year unless the government decides they want it to snow (long story, Google it).

But I made the best of it in the days leading up to Christmas. I went out and bought Christmas decorations (which quickly fell apart), listened to Christmas music (which only made me miss home even more) and found myself a nice Santa hat. I wore it once, looked in a mirror and decided it was too much. Plus, my facial hair was dark and scruffy, giving me more of a homeless look than the Jolly Ole Saint Nick appearance I was going for. But I had to try. Apparently, Santas don't exist in China, since I've been hard pressed to find even one miniature version of the red suit-wearing man anywhere in Beijing.

Instead of moping about the lack of true Christmas spirit in Beijing, I decided to force the Christmas spirit on my colleagues at Beijing Review. I'd tried this tactic on Halloween when I brought a jack-o-latern pail filled with sweets into work and told everyone they could only have a piece of candy if they sang a Halloween song. It was a prank but no one got the joke. For Christmas, I was able to find different flavored candy canes -- blueberry, cinnamon, watermelon, but no peppermint -- and brought them in for everyone. No singing was involved this time, but I did warn them that the blueberry canes might cause their mouths to change colors.

I also brought the Santa hat, my Christmas stocking and the small tree in as well. If I had to work on Christmas Eve, I was at least going to make my tiny cubicle look and feel like Christmas.

The rest of the day was ho-hummish. I read stories. I read pages. I read more stories. Going to my home church for the 3 hour Christmas service was starting to sound like a viable alternative to reading pages.

When everyone else in my office had left, I turned on some Christmas tunes but kept the volume low. I just wanted to enjoy the moment of peace and tranquility with Rockin Around the Christmas Tree in the background.

Beijing Review feeds the foreign experts when they keep us late -- usually a rice dish with meat and vegetables from Yoshinoya. It's never bad, but tonight I came prepared, bringing with me a brick of cheese (having been unable to find a cheese ball covered in almonds) and some weird sausage that would have to fill in for the Pepperidge Farm brand my parents always had at home. Ritz crackers were about the only part of the Christmas snack I was able to find. And so I had myself a mini-Christmas feast: cheese, weird sausage and crackers.

And before I knew it, it was time to leave. It was 11 minutes before midnight.

The cab ride home seemed to take longer than it needed to, given that there were few other cars on the road. We passed a few decorated buildings, saw a few Christmas trees and finally arrived on my side of town. I told the driver what alley to drive down and when we arrived he turned around and said "Shengdan Jie Kuai Le!" with a huge grin on his face. I looked at the clock in the cab. It was just after midnight -- Christmas.

I returned the greeting, paid the fare and got out.

"Merry Christmas," I muttered to myself, smiling as I walked to my apartment. "Merry Christmas."


Decorations from home; food that reminds me of home.

Ringing in the New Year (Early)

To celebrate the holiday season, China International Publishing Group held a reception for their foreign experts working for the seven CIPG magazines. The event was held at the Beijing Shangri La hotel in the northwest part of the city. The event was similar to the dinner at the Great Hall of the People in October, but specific to CIPG employees. The food was equally sumptuous -- a combination of dishes of creatures from the air, sea and land. And of course there were toasts all around from the bosses of CIPG. The best part were the small stuffed tigers everyone received, a prelude to the upcoming Chinese New Year -- the Year of the Tiger. I can't say I'm a big fan of stuffed animals, but now I have one less present to buy for someone (I'm not sure what the code of ethics concerning re-gifting is in China, but I'll soon find out).

Au Revoir

My French roommate, Alexia (the non-Chinese girl in the photo for those of you who were unsure), left for home yesterday morning. She had been in Beijing since May, interning with Airbus. She'll be home for about three weeks before she leaves again for America where she'll study abroad at the University of North Florida.

For the past month I've been prepping her for her semester-long stay in the States by teaching her useful phrases (like "what's up"), college terminology and, most importantly, drinking games. My time as a college student may be over, but that doesn't mean I can't live vicariously through my former roommate.

Tears were plentiful between Alexia and our Chinese roommate Vivian, but I was happy for my French roomie. She'd be spending the next six months in Florida, the "cool" American state where the sun shines and Spring Break venues are plentiful. And she'll have infinite access to YouTube and Facebook and everything great about American Internet access, little things I've come to live without but miss nonetheless.

Already the apartment seems a little less complete. True, there are fewer dirty dishes in the sink (no one in the apartment liked to clean, especially Alexia) but the lack of French babble and European ascents has created an awkward culture void. My only hope is that the next roommate comes from some Western country, otherwise I'll have no one to talk to about cheese (real cheese), wine (real wine), burgers (real burgers) and how God awful Chinese liquor (pijiu) tastes.

It's Beginning to Look A Lot Like Shengdan Jie

If you haven't figured out what shengdan jie means based on the first few words in the blog title, then you aren't listening to enough Christmas music. The season to be jolly is in full swing in Beijing -- lights hang from trees, stores display Christmas knickknacks and employees all around wear read and white Santa hats. I have to wonder if they fully understand the significance of the holiday or just know that when December rolls around it's time to smile, be jolly and dress up like some old fat white guy with a snow colored beard.

To my enjoyment the last month, the walk home from work has allowed me to see a few Christmas decorations outside the shopping center next to my apartment. I haven't seen too many Santas sitting in big chairs, waiting to hear Christmas wish lists read off by annoying little kids, but then again I haven't really looked that hard just yet.

Here are a few pics from around my area. I'll post more as I get out and about the city looking for some Christmas cheer.

Homeward Bound

One of my first friends in Beijing, Marisha Thakur, left for home today. She returned to Mumbai (Bombay), India after a year in China working for China Daily. Marisha was one of my bosses during my summer internship working on the international news section of the paper.

Marisha and one of her friends, Arlene Chang, showed me how amazing the Beijing Ikea is on numerous trips to the goliath of a superstore. The three of us would also get iced coffees, while the weather was warm, and babble about new happenings in each others lives. Arlene, for a while, was looking for a new job in Beijing but eventually returned to Bombay ahead of Marisha. The two were friends before working together in Beijing at China Daily.

On my birthday, Marisha, another friend from work and I went to the China Open.

Now that Marisha has left, I have one less friend in Beijing. But that means I have one more friend in India, a nation on my list of places to go, especially after watching the movie Outsourced a half dozen times.


Marisha's brother and sister-in-law came to Beijing to help her move. One of her friends from Beijing also came to say goodbye.