Daily Delights
Finding delight in Beijing, a city of more than 25 million.
1 July 2016
It's no secret Beijing struggles with a pollution problem. There are days where you feel utterly coated in the smog. So on our rare clear days, expats and locals alike breathe deep and enjoy the beauty. For me, nothing beats a mountain view as I walk to work. Usually, my 20-minute walk is pretty mundane - I bob and weave around slower pedestrians, parked cars and cyclists under an increasingly hot sun. But on days like today, I make my walk a little longer and take the stretch of road that has a perfect view of the mountains out west of the city. It's on those peaks you can hike up and look out at the sprawling, delightful mess that is Beijing. And until I can hike back up to the peak, I find a big smile in the chance to just gaze out at them. I guess the Colorado gal in me still yearns for her mountains. |
21 February 2016
In my six months living abroad, I had yet to put much effort into dating. So with a few free days before our semester started up, I figured I'd give it a shot. I met a guy I'd been chatting with via Tinder and then WeChat, and we walked over to a tiny bar tucked in a small alley in the Chaoyang District. Gin and tonics in hand, we headed to a small table in this muted, cozy spot. The conversation was lovely, and the drinks were delicious. Then, a cat strolled by. A beautiful, fat tabby cat. I was mesmerized. A cat owner in my America past, I dearly missed having a pet of my own. The cat, however, had no interest in me. Not at first ... but after an hour gesturing that he join me, he pounced up into my lap. Thrilled, my attention was now solely on the kitten and his loud, content purring. I named him Steve Mason, and he and I built a bond for the next hour. Looking up, I noticed I'd rather neglected my date. He smiled, insisted it was OK - evidently my rudeness translated into being cute. Thank goodness, because Steve and I are destined to be friends. |
15 February 2016
My travel partner and I were settled into a home stay in northern Vietnam. Just after enjoying lunch with our host family, Mr. Thien and his wife, Giang, went about cleaning up and continuing the chores of their day. Their son and nephew, though, had earned a break. Thanks to a surprisingly good WiFi connection in their little village of Ha Giang, they were able to stream cartoons on their laptop for the kids to watch. Today's choice: old-school Looney Tunes adventures, complete with park rangers and Donald Duck and two mischievous chipmunks. Sitting behind them, I was as enthralled with the cartoon as they were. These were the classics kiddos in America had long forgotten. As we watched, I laughed along, forgetting the cold breeze as Donald was bested again by the two little pranksters. Little did I know, my friend was enjoying the show from across the room - the entertainment being me, just one of the kids. Such a beautiful moment, one of many in our time in Northern Vietnam. |
23 January 2016
Just minutes away from my apartment, cafes sit atop the clubs on a particularly busy block in Wudaokou. There's one in particular, though, that has a couch I adore. Plush, overstuffed and worn out in a delightful sort of way. Curled up on this sofa, I drape my coat over my legs and pull the table close. I settle in with a good book or my Chinese characters and work for hours. I hadn't realized how much I missed this sort of comfort. But when I'm at the Sculpted in Time Cafe, I feel like I'm back in my Colorado living room, ready to relax for the rest of the afternoon. |
15 January 2016
After a particularly long day at the school, my friend talked me into a train ride across town. A bunch of local bands were hosting a jam session at a great bar in the Dongcheng District, and she insisted live music would cheer me up. So I begrudgingly boarded the subway. But all my troubles melted away as the mismatched group of musicians hopped from Neil Diamond to Tenacious D. I swayed with the crowd with my Beijing-brewed beer, smiling and singing along. |
6 January 2016
Twice a week, I spend an hour and a half with Sara and Lisa - two little girls who are six and eight and full of big opinions. They tease me for my crazy hair and for wearing my parka inside every day. When I wore my new glasses to class, though, Lisa couldn't stop staring. "Teacher," she said, "are those glasses new?" "Yes ..." I said warily. "Oh teacher, they're just too big. Too big for your face. You're even more crazy now." And so began our reading class. Click here the full story on how I procured these crazy glasses. It's easier than you think, and completely affordable to find the pair of glasses that's too big for your face, too. |
20 November 2015
As I sat outside a nearby malatong restaurant, a Chinese family approached my friend and I. Hesitantly, the mother is pointing at her phone with an inquiring smile. “Picture?” she asks. “Sure!” I say. The little girl eagerly runs up and her mother poses her next to me. With her two fingers in the “peace” sign in front of my face, we smile and a flash temporarily blinds us both. Why so delightful? Other expats have told me this fascination has worn on them, but I love bringing a smile on others' faces with something as simple as a photo. Their fascination was so innocent, their giggle infectious.
As I sat outside a nearby malatong restaurant, a Chinese family approached my friend and I. Hesitantly, the mother is pointing at her phone with an inquiring smile. “Picture?” she asks. “Sure!” I say. The little girl eagerly runs up and her mother poses her next to me. With her two fingers in the “peace” sign in front of my face, we smile and a flash temporarily blinds us both. Why so delightful? Other expats have told me this fascination has worn on them, but I love bringing a smile on others' faces with something as simple as a photo. Their fascination was so innocent, their giggle infectious.