Part of my regular commute is literally lined down both sides with Chinese Communist Party propaganda. Recently, it was lined on both sides with vandalized Party propaganda. Someone took out all propaganda posters within a couple blocks’ radius, tagging or slashing dozens of posters.
About two weeks later, the slashed ones have been replaced, but the tagged ones have just been whitewashed a bit.
We don’t often see this kind of graffiti. 99.9% of what we do see scrawled on walls is just advertising. But this particular wave of Party propaganda has achieved higher levels of saturation than the previous waves. Our district is full of it.
We’d rather have clear skies, of course, but the smog/fog can make for almost fantastical looking views from the slopes of Qingdao’s Fushan 青岛浮山。
Air pollution has been in the mid-100s for much of March and April, but that’s not enough to keep us indoors. (At 200, we turn on extra D.I.Y. air purifiers.)
There are plenty of decent picnic spots to be had.
It’s that funny time of year where we go out in shorts and t-shirts while our Chinese friends wear sweaters and jackets, because we dress for the weather/temperature, and they dress for the Chinese lunar calendar/traditional Chinese medicine theory.
Being male in China means navigating the drinking culture, which varies from region to region. If you want to be healthy and not get drunk on a regular basis, this can be challenging. Not drinking would seriously hinder your social interaction with other men (never mind your ability to conduct business). That’s just how thoroughly embedded into the culture alcohol is. A lot of people — foreigners and Chinese — don’t see any middle ground; it’s either get sloshed or don’t have many male friends.
Just the other night a neighbour came over for a Christmas dinner. He brought me baijiu as a present but said he’d prefer to drink beer with dinner, and to drink slowly. That started a conversation about drinking in China, during which he explained that for two thousand years it’s been proper social etiquette for a host to display generosity by getting his guests drunk, and that only recently has this begun to slowly change toward the more “civilized” drinking of the West, where, in polite company, people can enjoy a little alcohol together but there’s no expectation or obligation to drink extreme amounts. (Turns out most adults don’t like getting routinely wasted — who knew?! ;) )
But that was an exceptional situation. Typically in Qingdao, a half-complete dinner between male friends looks like this:
It’d be easy to find bigger bottle displays to photograph; I just happened to snap this mid-meal on the way back from the bathroom the other night. To North Americans it might look like a lot of beer for a family restaurant, but to me it looks like *not baijiu*. Qingdao is the beer capital of China, and that means that — unlike our foreign friends in other parts of China — I don’t have to choose between dealing with baijiu or having male friends.
This not-yet-opened overpass arcs between brand new apartment complexes on its way to eventually run past three big shopping malls and a subway transfer station. But one last patch of protested, illegally bulldozedpíngfáng 平房 currently stands in the way.