Sunday, August 10, 2008

Trip 2: Week 12 The Long Awaited 8.08.08 at 8:08 PM




An official bomb diffusing devise in a subway station.



Strictly Speaking, since China is on Military Time or the 24:00 HR Clock, the Opening Ceremony should have started at 08:08, as in AM. Instead, Bush opened the new Embassy near Ladies Street. A humongous building that flew in "American" workers to build the structure to save from any information from being leaked. We aren't the only ones to fly our own in. And when all is said and done, it probably is not a bad idea. Just expensive and seems like something made up for the movies. But as we have come to realized, life does imitate art. I use the term "art" loosely here.




One of hundreds of new "soft monuments" planted around the city.



So, lets see. It is Sunday, August the 10th. This week has been a bit of a blur and not in a good way. The Olympic opening ceremony was chilling. So, over the top, that I couldn't hardly stomach it. It lasted over 4 hours btw, so be glad that tickets weren't easier to get! The city felt much different than I imagined it might. There wasn't excitement in the air or masses in the streets enjoying China's big moment in the spot light. Instead, the air was thick with humidity and a strange ghost town air. Most of the city looked deserted. I headed to the center of town to the Forbidden City with my friend Mia to photograph what we could. Its not what I would usually do, stick myself in the middle of a huge tourist trap, but I figure, its a historic moment and it is close to home, so I could jet if things got too sticky. Well, we took a can from 798, after a hyped lecture by Norman Foster and Ai Weiwei, that I conveniently couldn't get into. Mia went and gave me the brief version sans having to stand in a crowd to hear it. Instead, I enjoyed a coffee at Time Zone cafe across the street from Ullens Center, reading a year and a half old men's magazine. All the available zines were 2006 or 2007, so this was new-ish. Fascinating article about a young American who went to South Korea to teach English and got busted smuggling hash into the country from a trip to the Philippines. How he spent 3 years or so in a Korean jail and eventually went home and wrote a book about the experience. I was captivated.




Hard to see, but the little specks are thousands of people walking the streets around the southern gate of Tiananmen.


Back to the FC (short hand for Forbidden City)...Mostly Chinese tourists. Few foreigners sprinkled in the crowd.
All the Chinese seemed to be wearing Olympic paraphernalia and shooting off their cameras to record evidence of their presence in front of this historic structure. There were multiple umbrella stands, where police and other uniformed gentlemen stood. Each there to carry out some crowd control duty.

I had my Leica instead of my Holga and brought my digi too, but didn't bring it out. It felt more like a Leica moment though I'm not a journalistic photographer. But I do like to document for my personal archive. I'll upload any good ones I get as soon as I get the film back.

The heat was unbearable. The FC had fountains spraying water in a grand display of water ballet, but there wasn't a vendor around to purchase drinking water from. I think they had been banned, along with other outdoor friendly activities to clean up the streets for the Olympics. Not sure how true that is, but there was no arguing that they were no where to be found.







Mia and walked the eastern perimeter of the outer streets around Tiananmen Square. The whole square was cordoned off and no public traffic was allowed to enter. So, we along with the bazillion Chinese tourists, waddled along photographing towards the empty space. We were heading toward Qianmen, the new old city, which had just opened the day before. Its the place Henry wrote about, where many of the generations old family residents, where being pushed out in favor of high end development. An outdoor mall with all the prestige brands. We didn't quite make it there because we just were exhausted from the exertion. We are not used to being shuffled around like cattle in that kind of heat and humidity, without proper hydration and air! We found our way to a safe haven from the thousands of pedestrians. The new Legation Quarter. It is the site of the old US Legation Quarter established in 1862. The first US embassy was built there in 1902. The Architecture still stands out today as very classical Western architecture, mimicking English estate architecture with a grand entry into an open space surrounded by an arch of buildings. Now it is the hot new place to dine and see the whose who. There is even an art gallery in the complex. I've heard the salads in the French restaurant are 200 RMB (roughly $30). That is high even at New York prices! Well, to enter, you are met by two standing guards at a gate with an ominous grey stone blockade just beyond. Like a cross between a ballast and a huge "Welcome" wall at the entrance. Needless to say, there were no Chinese tourists accidentally wandering into this compound. You must be in the know and walk in with confidence or the guards may question you. At least that has been my experience walking into guarded entrance ways. It is the curse of looking "Chinese." Once I was stopped by a new guard at Henry's Apartment block. As soon as I rambled in English he just waved me in, but its like that.

No one really in there, so we could take a breather and go see some art in an air conditioned building. It seemed so bougie. There are moments where you realize that the new China is not exactly for "the people," but for the elite and White Euro looking foreigners. Those moments I am glad Henry told me to keep my passport on my at all times, but it still sucks that I feel like I need to. Just in case. A Chinese friend of Henry's told me she just has to make sure she is dressed really well, to distinguish herself to get the appropriate treatment. As a low key American and "artist-type," I am usually dressed in an understated manner, but maybe just the sense of entitlement I have to give off, gets me by. Its a curse and a blessing to not stand out racially. If I could speak Mandarin, I could get discounts but I might get refused at the door of some snotty place like the Legation Quarter. Who knows.





Its hard to know what is the best way to get the most of what you want out of this city. Saturday an American couple was attacked my a Chinese man, who evidently came to Beijing to carry out some crazy act of violence against some foreigners to have his moment of fame and not die without distinction, as he threw himself off the Drum Tower. You've probably heard a lot about this, but that is all I know. Details about his motivation have not been made clear. But it seems that they were not chosen for any reason other than obviously being foreign. The American man died due to injuries and his wife is alive, but without her husband. It seems so senseless, but I keep hearing about these desperate acts of violence in repressed societies, mainly in China and Japan. There must be more to it than an isolated incidence. A bubbling up of a deep festering sore. Something to fight the helplessness. This has cast a dark shadow on the whole situation here in light of how much emphasis has been put into the show aspect of the games, rather than the individual human stories. Here the athletes are manufactured. There aren't personal stories of a love of the sport or personal triumphs against all odds to become an Olympic athlete. They are like little bonsai trees in the art exhibit at the Legation Quarter. I think that is why when they win, the whole country can claim a victory, but when they loose, they can just be discarded. There are a billion where that one came from.






Do I sound jaded. Why is that the term to describe this feeling? Jaded.
I like the connection to Chinese/Japanese Jade better! But please read on.

AH HA:
entry from the Word Detective to root it out...
(AK, is this you?)

Dear Word Detective: What can you tell me about the word "jaded," meaning "world-weary" or "worn out"? Does it have anything to do with "jade," the mineral? -- A.K., New York, NY.

You know, when I first started writing this column, a question such as yours would really get me going. I'd race to the bookshelf and spend hours plowing through obscure tomes to glean every last nugget of information for my readers. Now, for some reason, it just seems such a chore. I'll make you a deal -- you go look it up and I'll go watch TV. Let me know what you find out.

Wait, come back! I'm not really jaded. I love reader questions, and this is an above-average question. So just sit back and I'll be with you right away.

Ok, I'm back. It turns out that no, there's no connection between the two "jades" -- they are completely separate words. Although we tend to associate "jade," the green stone, with jewelry and sculpture from Japan and China, the word itself comes from Latin. The Latin word "ilia" (which became the Spanish "ijada" and eventually our English "jade") means "kidneys," and in Roman times jade was thought to cure ailments in that part of the body. Apparently the Greeks had the same idea -- another name for the mineral jade is "nephrite," from the Greek word for kidneys.

The other kind of "jade," found today only in "jaded," comes from an Old Norse word, "jalda," meaning "mare." Imported into English as "jade" in the 14th century, the word originally meant just "mare," but then came to mean "old, broken-down mare." As a metaphor, "jade" then was used to mean "worthless person," or, more specifically, "prostitute." This noun form of "jade" is now obsolete, but the sense lives on in our word "jaded," applied to someone who has, as they say, been there, seen that, and done it all.





To end on a humorous note, here is an amazing image I saw on the street.
It is part of a banner advertising the Olympics. Look carefully at her right eye (that is your left side).
Notice literally an eyepatch!
This is to illustrate my new favorite bad word:
Cha bu duo.
Its a kin to the Vietnamese saying,
Same Same, but different.


See Lost in Beijing. A brutal portrait of life in Beijing. Amazingly profound.

Updates on screenings to follow...
tonight I'm beat.

Signing off,
Good Morning New York & Good Night Beijing.

PS
Henry and I will be in New York mid Sept, so pencil us in to your social calendar.

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