Arrival. August 16th and 17th

The first and most shocking thing I noticed when we landed:
There was blue sky in Beijing, and you could see the blue-gray outline of the mountain range surrounding it.
Last spring and summer, I never saw the mountains even once from the city. The influence of the Olympics is apparent even without going to the stadium.

The countryside just outside of Beijing is really beautiful when the sun is shinning. I didn’t remember the area around the airport being so green. I was pretty sure it was rather dusty last time I was here in the summer. I thought perhaps they had washed all the plants near the airport like they did for the trees in downtown Beijing. And then I remembered that they can make it rain if they want to. And if they want the Olympics to be clear, that can be planned. We turned down a side road and there were people squatting in the green shade of the trees playing chess and others wobbling by on bicycles with a large load or another person sitting on the back of their bikes in and out of the sunshine and splotchy green shade. It looked the same as it might have 20 years ago. Except the people would have never believed you could make it rain, let alone that the world was coming to see their city.

The housing complex where my grandfather's nephew and his family live is called Watermark, Longbeach. (Does anyone know if there is actually a Watermark, Longbeach, in California?) I actually like the Chinese translation better—watershadow. The houses where my family live are about the size of an average American house. Normal for an American, they are huge for an average Chinese family. Funny, the neighborhood is a replica of those fancy houses in California, with red tiled roofs, intricate carved wooden doors and everything. There is even well-maintained grass, a small park, and some large, American-size dogs.

I know many people from other countries, especially us Americans, criticize China for its rapid modernization and worry how it will use up the world's resources by having things like cars (oh wait, which country owns the most cars in the world?). But there are some differences in the way China immitates and modernizes. For example, in this community, what separated it from the equivalent wealthy Califorian community was that the lawns were small (compensated by a park in the middle of everything, the houses, though well-made, were not excessively large, they only had a one-car garage, if that, and in the evenings and mornings there were always quite a few people walking themselves, their children, and/or their large dogs about. There was also a beautiful, long mural of what I assumed was an interpretation of Longbeach, which never would have been allowed in a wealthy American community. It was an old Longbeach—there were ships that looked like the Mayflower, and people dressed like old fishermen. The mountains in the background really looked like California hills, and, as Longbeach may have been in the U.S., the people in the mural appeared Caucasian. In spite of the setting being out of time and place, the quality of the painting was impressive for an outside wall. The U.S. communities could learn something from that, and realize that blank walls are boring. They should also hire crazy people like me to paint them.

My family was lovely. They treated me well, and were so patient with me as I struggled with my Chinese. They figured out how to ask simple questions of me in order to keep conversation up, and I remembered enough Chinese to answer some questions and ask some questions. Cooking, traveling and children also helped bridge some language gaps. Plus smiling and laughing are international and I'm pretty good at those things.

Another aunt and uncle took me and my great aunt out for a car ride into the nearby mountains. The scenery was beautiful. The sun was still out and a breeze coming through. We might call them hills in America, but they had the sharp jagged peaks above the green trees proved that they were mountains. They pulled over next to what appeared to be an orchard of chestnuts to step out and look. They walked across a small steam right into the orchard (I followed them eagerly, assuming that this sort of thing was therefore acceptable in China) and went up to the woman working there to ask her what she was doing. (I thought it was pretty apparent--she was kneeling on the ground pulling up weeds. But I think the question was a precursor to asking more about the orchard.) She said she was clearing beneath the trees so that they could more easily find the chestnuts that fell. (Good answer for what I would have just impatiently called pulling weeds.) She was surprisingly friendly and talkative considering she was on her knees on the ground doing what many Americans really dislike doing, and considering she had probably been doing it since the early morning. My aunt and uncle were also very respectful and talkative considering the difference between their situation and the woman's. I liked the message of the encounter--be respectful, know that the other knows more than you about something and learn from each other. Sounds good to me. The farmers around Taigu have to watch out though, I might come up to them in the middle of their work day and think it's polite to start asking them lots of questions. Maybe it's a good distraction.

As we walked along the dirt road by the orchard a little ways I noticed another borrowing from America. They had three plants growing together: beans, corn and squash. The woman had said they grew the beans, corn and squash as food for themselves. Nice use of Native American knowledge. Too bad modern agriculture in the U.S. forgot about it.