The five mascots of the Bejing have a rather sweet naming convention. Each one is based a Chinese character in the sentence “Beijing welcomes you” doubled to sound like child’s pet name. So you get, Bei-Bei, Jing-Jing and so on. It must have all sounded so adorable and clever when the ad agency was putting the concept together, and a whole merchandising campaign has been built around these five rather cute characters. Each has their own little personality, but I confess, I am not a big enough fan of the morning cartoon shows to be able to differentiate them, but I suspect any child of seven could do so quite correctly.

Recently however, one begins to wonder if a character is missing from the quintet and a sixth character Bu-Bu, needs to be added to the line-up. Bu-bu (named for the Chinese word not) lacks the sunny personality of his five friends, but without him this particular team is loosing touch with the unfolding reality. Beijing does not welcome you as warmly as Bei-Bei suggests and without Bu-Bu to at least whisper some unpleasant home truths, the soft centred message is beginning to sound awfully thin.

It doesn’t help that I am just back from a “visa run” and found the experience more than usually unpleasant. Although I am very familiar with the processes, I found myself anxious this time lest, for reasons beyond my ken, I might be refused a new visa. That the Hong Kong papers were full of new regulations and reports that tourist numbers are well down on expectations, did little to lighten my mood. There is a plethora of new and unevenly applied regulations and they make the process of getting a visa expensive and uncertain. In effect, I lost a working week and am considerably out of pocket for what was, until not so long ago, a minor inconvenience only. I should hasten to add that, though I was very sensitive to Bu-Bu hovering over my application like a malevolent angel, nothing untoward happened; the entire process was uneventful and I am once again back in the capital. Thank you Bei-Bei!

It isn’t only the visa run which is colouring my attitude, there really are increasing signs that Bei-Bei’s sunny welcome is being countered by Bu-bu’s heavy handed concerns for security. Two bus bombs in Kunming don’t help, and will have given the powers that be, every reason to be nervous. The large media pack add to the situation. Many are here only for the Olympics, have no experience of China and want to fill out their background pieces with overly simplified examples of the contrasts within contemporary China. I have been approached more than once, to help round off, with my Bu-Bu perspectives, the “dark cloud behind the silver lining” story under which China seems permanently to be filed. I am committed to standing with Bei-Bei and cheer on the marvellous achievement which these Games represent and but to my surprise I shiver whenever Bu-Bu’s shadow crosses my path, which it is doing rather too frequently at the moment to be entirely ignored.

Beijing itself does not quite share my gloom, everywhere there are earnest young volunteers oozing beibei-esque hospitality, and were I to counter their earnestness with questions about pollution or the migrant problem I would be dismissed as the Olympian equivalent of Mr. Scrooge humbugging Christmas. Perhaps it is a bit churlish of me to want to introduce Bu-Bu to the mix, just because he is messing up my life a little. Bu-Bu may be a part of the story, but it is too easy sometimes to be a naysayer. For most people, Bei Bei caputures better the mood of the moment. Buildings are gleaming, the city is looking beautiful and the enthusiasm for the event is palpable. Maybe its better to go with the flow, and let the Games begin!

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Tags: Beijing Diaries, bricks, olympics

As a foreigner, living in Beijing is to be exposed to extraordinary contrasts almost on a daily basis. One gets used to the excellence of the transport system, the availability of all but the most obscure of home comforts and a standard of living unsustainable at home. At the same time my work brings me into contact with those at the bottom of the economic ladder, who are those whom, in any society, struggle for recognition, but as residents of the Chinese countryside are not even guaranteed a place on the first rung; I speak of the handicapped, and the disabled, those who can be abandoned at birth here as being of no value, but whom the Irish language refer to graciously as “God’s People”. Recently, I came across a group of Sisters offering the possibility of a life to these children whom society has rejected.

At first it was supposed to be a straight forward visit to an orphanage. The Sisters would be gracious, the children winsome and the decisions made about cooperation reasonable. The Sisters were indeed gracious, the children more winsome than I could have expected, but I left with an overwhelming sense that the home was stuck in a rut, offering barely basic care to “God’s People” when even I could see that more was possible. It was hard to see a child of 10 denied a cleft palate operation because he was also severely mentally disabled and therefore was “less in need of the surgery” or to see a crippled child not get an education because he could not be brought to school. It was deeply disturbing and part of me wanted to shout at those dedicated women for their lack of imagination and for neglecting the children whom God had put in their charge.

Of course to do so would have been grossly unfair. I would be shouting at them for being as poor as their neighbours and for having horizons narrowed by that poverty. These dedicated women love the children; it is not their fault that they have not been introduced to the advances in professional care which we take for granted. So I did not shout, and I hope I avoided communicating some of my frustration at the unrealised potential of this group of God’s People. After all, I will get into the transport they provided and drive back into my shiny Beijing world, while they have to continue to care for these children as best they can, depending on handouts from neighbours as poor as themselves. Ever‎y week a new child will arrive and they will try and care for him or her while I will write a moving article about it from my air-conditioned office. From this elevation one can see so clearly the needs of this or that child, but the Sisters clean up after them and share their very humble lifestyle. I could not do that and the three hours I spent there was long enough, thank you very much.

The Olympics is about the potentials of the most physically able women and men on the planet and the government has built beautiful temples to display their prowess. It is an achievement to be proud of. The potentials of “God’s people” in rural China are more modest, and the temples built by the Sisters are more ramshackled. Still, were there justice in this world, some of accolades showered on athletes and organisers alike would be going to the countryside, to “God People” and those who are care for them, even if the achievements seem, in comparison, very modest indeed.

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Tags: Beijing Diaries, bricks, no child left behind, olympics, people with disabilities

During the height of the IRA London bombing campaigns in the early 1980’s, there were signs all over the underground system inviting us to “Be Alert” for suspicious packages. Eventually as the sense of anxiety waned, the ubiquitous posters become rather stale and graffiti artists began to use them creatively. To me the most memorable was, “Don’t be alert, be aloof, nobody likes lerts”. The Beijing Underground the other day had the feel of the Tube in the early 80’s but the need to be a Lert was delivered in an entirely different way.

At the entrance to every station there is now a baggage scanner, such as one is now used to in airports. Every bag, parcel and suitcase is scanned for dangerous articles (unspecified); slowing the egress of passengers considerably. It is not clear whether this is to be a permanent feature of Beijing’s excellent public transport system or is yet another ways of keeping us safe from Olympic related terrorist outrages. I will be grateful if it is temporary, because otherwise the ease of using the newly installed electronic ticketing system will be negated by the fuss of having to have bags checked on the way through. It is also not clear just why we need to be protected in this way. There has been no perceptible increase in domestic tension, and Beijing is ordinarily a very safe city, but both the process, and the cost of implementation suggests that someone thinks that there is a threat. The expensive scanners at the Underground entrances are announcing very dramatically, that, whether I am liked for it or not, I need to be a lert.

The more rational side of me wishes to remain a loof. I tend to dismiss this level of security as government paranoia. The Beijing Olympics is a major moment for the nation and they have invested heavily in making it a showcase for the New China. I have written elsewhere of the beauty of the venues, and to date all the advance preparations have been meticulous. State ownership of land makes possible projects on a scale well nigh impossible for governments subject to re-election by taxpaying, property owning citizens. The advisability of such sweeping freedom is perhaps questionable but the beauty of the final result is not. But, having created such a show piece setting, and having hyped the Games to a huge degree at home and abroad, the pressure is on to an Olympic Games as flawless in its execution as in the design of its buildings. I suspect people with influence here are beginning to have sleepless nights about potential flaws here and, because they can, are expending extraordinary amounts of resources at keeping their worse nightmares at bay. Continue Reading »

Tags: Beijing Diaries, bricks, olympics