Отвык
Я отвык—thus the Russians, with uncharacteristic economy, express the idea “I’ve gotten out of the habit / become unaccustomed” So I’ve felt since returning to Beijing. Did I miss it? Not a lick, it turns out. It’s not that I’m displeased to be back—just indifferent. But in some ways that can be a bigger challenge than being displeased.
Remarkable how much changed in the neighborhood in the 7 weeks I was gone. The pre-Olympic frenzy of construction has altered Wudaokou for the better—level sidewalks with potted palms now grace my daily strolls along Chengfu Lu, disorder banished along with tens of thousands of migrant workers in the big sweep for the Big Show. Old stores and restaurants have disappeared, to be replaced by new ones, sprouting like mushrooms after a rain. Regrettably, in the former category is “My Shop,” a bodega catering to Western food tastes, and a reliable source of non-processed cheese and flavorful beer, among other desiderata. Unless it reopens soon as “My SuperShop,” a long cross-town journey beckons any time I hanker for a hunk ‘a, a little slice or chunk ‘a, decent cheese. To everyone’s horror, pirated DVDs are suddenly very hard to come by; the Chinese are such dyed-in-wool scofflaws, though, that nobody can believe it’s anything but a temporary aberration that will disappear along with the Paraolympians in a couple weeks. (Quaintly, the Chinese imagine “the world is still watching,” though I imagine most of humanity is blissfully unaware that there is such a thing as the Paraolympics.)
This overheated reinvention has the effect of making America, with its half-empty strip malls and crumbling roads, seem like yesterday’s news indeed. If you’re not moving forward, you’re falling behind: call it Usain Bolt’s Law. Americans seem to intuitively grasp this—even if they’re too easily distracted by jugglers, conjurors, card-sharps and sideshow charlatans to do anything about it. So much more edifying, after all, to debate the pros and cons of moose burgers and abstinence-only “sex ed” than to actually fix anything; so much easier to worry about “issues” like “patriotism” and “authenticity” than to think about difficult challenges on the Black Sea, the Fertile Crescent, or anywhere else.
And, of course, most of last year’s colleagues/neighbors are off on other adventures, so my social life is rebooted as well. Earlier this week the newbies and I sifted their dusty detritus. An odd, postmortem sort of exercise that made me think with melancholy detachment not of how much I’d miss them, but of how little: bit players in my life that had already strut and fret their hour upon the stage. Some folks you trust to see again someday; some folks you intuitively know you never will.
So an opportunity to start fresh yet again, with all the promise and peril that entails…
