See As Distinct

A meeting in the north west, then back east to Wang Jing.  No time for lunch, we’re late for a meeting all the way out in Shang Di.  I had a twelve-year-old I needed to get home and celebrate with.  Tonight she turns thirteen.  I was trapped in the corner of the room.  Between me and the door was the host.  And he wasn’t bothering to breath during his monologue.  

I do get energized discussing China with the guests who come.  This is what I enjoy most about this work, I suppose.  People who are soaking it up for their first time.  Some are intrigued.  Some are turned off.  But either perspective is a challenge and a refreshing perspective on what I can no longer see as distinct.

The ride in.  It will be the time to do all the things that haven’t been done.  But someone dear is having a terrible day back home and I call her and talk and its important and the right thing to do.  Many things remain undone when we arrive and I hop out the cab.  “This is the west side.  If you walk through the east side by the ring road is right over there.”  I trust him.  He was telling the truth.  I note the air is getting polluted.  Yesterday I bragged about how clear the skies were.  No such luck today.  No.  This isn’t so bad.  There are days when it gets much, much worse. 

Coming home I was certain I was late.  I was certain that my daughter would be upset.  I considered that if the shoe had been on the other foot and my wife was showing up this late I’d probably berate her.  But I called and they were still getting their selves together.  We met up at Lisa’s and had a good dinner and wished the young lady a happy, happy birthday.  They serve old-Beijing madoufu there.  It’s a good, thick, musty bean taste.  You can’t get it in other restaurants.  No one else wants any.  I finish the bowl. 

Thursday, 09/21/17