I was in a cab line, or rather, a cab hurdle (winter has come, who would formally queue) during peak hour, and everyone around me transforms into a standing commentary-cum-spectator. When a man cut to the front and got into our (we become an alliance) cab, the people synchronously shouted “xia!” “Ni gei wo xia ba!”, then pulled him out, and proceeded to discuss and review the current taxi situation. It was amusing.
In Singapore, I despised cab queues. Hated it so much I’d contentedly spend over a thousand per month on called cabs. Perhaps now I’ve learnt how to manage my time better, so I can spare the time to embrace the wait. Regardless, someone reminded me of ones ability to change mundane or irking situations into something lively.
When introduced to a topic for the first time, we naturally develop an impression of it, whether it’s parental influence or experiences, some matters are imprinted in our heads as a personal taboo. It paints a picture, a cynical sketch. In Beijing, some people cannot, or refuse to catch up with rapid advancements, therefore the magnitude of shit introduced to them is extreme. An image is stubborn, as our minds, and when in anger, images become haunting negatives one after another. The suppression evokes anger building inside of them – this is eminent is most cab drivers.
I met a strong spirited local woman last night, she was in trading, in antiques, in art dealing, a freelancer – a free spirit. When she spoke to you there was this command of aura, the kind of beam you only get from a lover of actuality. Anyway she said she was sitting in a cab in a peachy mood, when the cab came to a crossing. There was a boy walking across the street incredibly slowly, taking his time, and smoking his cigarette. The cab driver scoffed and started murmuring to himself, when she giggled and said “shifu, it’s delightful. It looks like a painting, look at the boy in the sun, not caring about a single worry, looking around like he’s in his own world, smoking the cigarette, look at the smoke! ” (It sounds 100X more descriptive in Chinese) The driver looked at the boy for a while longer, and then responded with a chuckle. Just like that, you can alter a pessimistic image into a pleasant illustration.
It doesn’t have to make it an agreeable thing, it doesn’t need to change your beliefs, but it can change your spirit, and the way you see things, see the world in animation. Why have such a strong stigma about something, when you can invest your rage into something that could make you shine, even for a little while.
Perhaps I’m being hypocritical, and I’m only being this introspective because, in Beijing, a romanticized moment is indefinite. But the mind’s skill to illustrate is immense, and everyone has a mind, and even if I fall short on thought imagery in Singapore, someone else more imaginative would be happier.
The beauty of Beijing is that it’s a quirky mix of a contemporary urban landscape with fierce culture. How long this beauty will be preserved is questionable, some local people complain that urbanization is sucking away their heritage. But you can still find it, like Maggie had said, “Why would I eat a man tou out of someone’s mouth, if I can find the original one. “ – Still sounds better in Chinese. It’s still here on every corner, the way it invokes an excitement in me on a smoggy day. That’s why I still travel on the trishaw, even if other people see it as impractical, my mind sees it as a shivering girl sitting in wenhua catching up with an urban road – with of course, a cigarette in her hand.
Yakiniku Farewell
