Brave in Beijing

I can’t begin to tell the world how many beautiful and soulful humans I met in the two days I’ve been in Beijing. Yes, I did arrive with a tiny chunky prejudice fed by early-life memories, the tone of news articles and the sheer limitations of our binary world views. 

So far, I visited four neighbourhoods in this colossal twenty-one-million-resident city and I haven’t registered any other white expat. The treatment I received everywhere has been heart-touching. In spite of the language, cultural, political and infrastructural barriers (or maybe because of them) the human connection has been triumphant, life-affirming. 

There is something precious about communicating with our eyes and smiles. We cannot care less about political beliefs, sexuality or intellectual tastes. The message is the connection. 

I can’t begin to tell the world how many humans caressed me with their eyes, waitresses mothered me with gleeful smiles, cabbies befriended me with apologetic, childlike grimaces. And we understood each other instantaneously, without the complications of intellect and identity. 

These are the things we forget when we wage wars and inflict harm - with weapons on battlefields or with prejudice in our heads. We forget that what we see on the surface is filtered by the spectacles we choose to wear and that at the core (whether it’s deep down or high up), humans are beautiful and kind. And when we dare to remember, we realise that the biggest bravery is to be gentle.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Banya

My recent visit to the traditional Russian “banya” in the London's Docklands is an event I shan’t forget anytime soon and one I’d strongly recommend to anyone with a taste for the authentic. A dear friend of mine had dared me to go and witness “the most raw & real bathing ritual”. It was a challenge I could not resist. The outside was intimidating enough. The dingy alley along the railway track in Canning Town where the establishment was situated reminded me of a back street in Bangkok minus the heat and the radiant mango-selling grannies. Barricades of rubbish led me to the entrance of what resembled an unemployment centre in Northern England, left to its own devices since the 70s. The reception area featured a plain eatery / vodka room with a constellation of sturdy square tables covered in green vinyl tablecloth - undoubtedly high-camp material in Shoreditch…but not here. Two big-belied comrades in baggy swimwear had positioned their giant pyramid torsos in front of a tv sc
Read more

The tailor

Once upon a time, there was a tailor called Saeed. In his tiny studio he was making outlandish garments for future brides. Day in, day out, the tailor was singer-sewing, humming the sweet tones of Mon Amie la Rose and Soleil D'Egypte . His eyes would glisten with glee every time his long fine fingers added a touch of lace to a delicate design. One day, a fairy  knocked on the door of his tiny studio. This was not entirely uncalled for. Fairies had often visited the tailor in his dreams but this was the first one to appear in the flesh. The fairy was a spitting image of Saeed and she was wearing one of his bridal dresses. For the first time Saeed could see how his work complemented him. "You a just a man in a dress", Saeed couldn't help saying. "Why have you disguised yourself like this?" "It's an acquired habit.", the fairy answered calmly. "Being eccentric is all about expressing yourself through acquired tastes and habits." T
Read more

Life on Langkawi

Let me tell you about Langkawi. I am lying on a chaise longue amidst a patch of radiant green growth and the gentle morning breeze is tickling my bare feet and forearms. Running water, buzzing insects and the velvety timbre of birds' vocals form a soft blanket of sounds, the morning's background music. It feels like I have never not been on Langkawi. Night after night, in my bed in London, I would repeat the magically sounding word like a mantra trying to fight insomnia and visualise the colours, shapes and fragrances behind the otherworldly name. Lang-ka-wi, lang-ka-wi, lang-ka-wi... Now that I am here, I spend my time admiring marvellous fruits or watching blackbirds drinking from the pool, their reflections quivering in the turquoise water. After a swim in the sea, I stand still against the wind, eyes semi-closed, watching semi-blurred water cones forming at my pulsing fingertips. I pay attention to my hands and my feet. I have managed to catalogue all the teeth in my mou
Read more