I like to watch the beautiful women of Beijing spit on the street.
My journey to get to the capital of China was arduous. I got an hour of sleep on the plane. My first 24 hours here came without closing my eyes. That first evening, a friend insisted on giving me a long walking tour of the city.
Over the next few days, I visited the Forbidden City and Summer Palace, and they were awe-inspiring, like a movie. Crowds and long lines. People like to push and cut in front of you here, it's just the way it is.
I know I'm a quiet person, but it turns out most Chinese people are extremely loud.
I've been running in the mornings. The first morning past Tiananmen Square, and I thought about what happened all those years ago. The second morning up the old shopping street Wangfujing, an old clock tower chiming. The hutong, the old houses in small alleys, are disappearing.
The city is changing, and I wonder where all of this history will go.
People look at me and I wonder what they see. A strange man who's not quite sure where he is or where he belongs at any given time. A wayward soul stumbling toward self-discovery in his parents' homeland.
