I stood over the sink, violently coughing. My lungs ached. It felt like they were filled with lead and every breath seemed to weigh them down more. I'm not a chain smoker, but I was unfortunate enough to travel for an hour across Beijing one Saturday morning last month as the city was hit by one of the biggest sandstorms in recent memory.
The Western woman sitting at the other end of the subway car, talking in her cellphone, becomes clearly agitated, raising her voice so everybody else can hear.
Can Beijing's subway stations be made safe against suicide terrorist bombing attacks? Last month's pair of blasts in crowded Moscow subway stations, which killed scores of commuters, has naturally focused attention on this question.
Red Dawn, a ticking time bomb of a movie, is set to go off in November, when it hits cinemas in the US and overseas.
I finally decided to rent a flat after 10 days' hunting, not because the place is ideal but because I was exhausted. I recently moved to Beijing and I realized renting a flat is much more difficult than I imagined.
Last weekend, I attended the 2010 Social Game Summit in Beijing. Dozens of gaming companies were represented, including about 40 from Japan.
Since March, a freakishly cheerful cartoon character girl has been beaming down at passing traffic from oversized billboards on Beijing's east side. Her name is Luo Baby and, with a jolly hop, she promotes Chaoyang's latest public service slogan: "Civilized Chaoyang with Magnificent Me".
The other day I ran into an old schoolmate from high school. Reminiscing about those days, I was surprised when we both mentioned one name: the history teacher.
Nanluoguxiang is a hutong area near the Drum and Bell Towers that are both romantic and artistic. They are popular among foreigners to seek out a little Chinese culture, while the Chinese who come do so mostly for coffee and pizza. The areas are full of bars, cafes, shops, and of course, visitors.
It was a cold, windy night as dark, ominous clouds started to gather around a bright full moon. I was standing at a lonely bus stop in the far eastern reaches of Chaoyang district waiting for my ride home. As I berated myself for not wearing an extra layer, I heard a bus grinding its gears in the distance, I turned to look, hoping it was the one I needed. Instead, to my horror, as a flash of lightening tore a bright gash in the night, I saw the numbers 666 on the bus slowly lumbering my way.
After seven years of living in New Zealand, I returned to China only to find myself in a rediscovery of the magic of my homeland.
In other countries, buying groceries is just a chore. The supermarkets are all designed the same: efficient but unimaginative, whereas, in Beijing food shopping is an event, by virtue of both necessity and variety.
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