Greetings to Beijing!

We left UB when it was still dark out. Driving to the airport I am watching the stars thinking how here I am oriented differently yet they still remain stars. This leads me to thinking about the Saul Williams poem, that Saul Williams song when he says, “you contemplate the setting sun, unaware of your disorientation. Disorient, turned away from the east, shifting currents.” And I have to wonder why I have stayed away from here so long, why I have not come sooner.

The sun rises half way through our flight and it is beautiful. We fly over Beijing and watch the smoke stacks poke through the smog. My first view of China is one still pink and yellow with the morning’s sun.

This city has an incredible feeling. It could be the shear amount of living bodies bustling and talking and laughing. It could be the tiny picturesque brick framed neighborhoods with courtyards (Hutongs) or the old men smoking and playing board games. It could be the streets that circle the square in neat rings or a city almost completely run by Volkswagens. It could be the boys reading tiny books as they sit on there bikes…waiting, or it could be the fact that the moment we stepped off of the plane… boys on bikes! Girls on bikes! Old women on bikes! Couples on tandems! Grocery men on bikes! Paper-boys on bikes! Bikes! Bike lanes wider than the streets... bike lights that appear in tiny bicycle shapes… underground bike tunnels! Yippee!


All I can do to keep from screaming my joyous excitement is to imagine being on a bike again. When we arrive at our hostel we walk down a fairly wide alley lined with Volkswagens. We walk into our hostel courtyard and there… all lined up on a nice brick wall… a row of little white bikes! I ask our guide and he informs me that they are free to ride, and I am overwhelmed with excitement! Later as Todd, Safa, Norah and I pedal through the city I know that this is why I came here. This is where I am oriented. I am collected, calm, and unbound, piloting my way through more bikes than I have ever ridden with. I am firmly planted as a present part of this city. I am secretly comforted that I have not lost my bike riding skills and I after a bit I allow myself to ride faster and look around. I put my camera on Auto and shoot with one hand for a while as my other guides me past the city’s afternoon duties. Our little bike team (the Bodhi Riders), plot a route, go in circles, go underground, get a little lost, get back on track, steer down a cool alley, pull over to take pictures of art, get a bit lost, fix derailed chains, stop and eat food we order without direction, and a few hours later emerge from a clump of beautifully active hutong’s to find we are home.