Last Days

For those who don't know, these past few days have been my last in Beijing.  I'll be moving back to New York City after a seven-year hiatus, which fills me with joy and trepidation and excitement and basically All The Feelings, which will have to wait for another blog post because this post is about Beijing.

I just reread my post from my first days here, and it's a little odd (but completely satisfying) how these last days have been their echo.  It is mildly-to-grossly polluted, just as it was when I arrived.  I went to Tiananmen Square on the way to the Forbidden City yesterday, and still managed to be bewildered by the place: surely I'd never gotten that close to the portrait of Mao before?  Was the flagpole always that far away?  (Answer:  you came into the square from a different subway exit, Crawford, ya ding dong.)

Divestment

Last night, I stayed in the Holiday Inn down the street from my apartment. Mine was the kind of hotel room that I dreamed of when I was little:  a colorful little pod, it seemed to have sprung out of Tintin: Explorers on the Moon or some half-remembered Babar title.  The shower wall curved in wavy fish glass against the neat white queen bed, a minimal-but-comfy green sofa was tucked into the corner by the window, and a bright blue space-conserving Murphy desk completed the picture.  The whole effect was simple, clean, warm, and cozy: a nest.