beijing rain

As the drought wore on, the weather got warmer, and Beijing became livable--walking outside was pleasant with a light jacket, and groups of old folks were beginning to loiter outside my apartment building again, lending a sense of community to my concrete block.  

Then they seeded the clouds.  At least, I think they seeded the clouds.  That's what the newspapers say...but I have met a few ex-pats who don't believe it.  I think the idea of farmers firing rockets full of chemicals into clouds is too sci-fi for them.  I love the idea of weather control...as I like to say, "we live in the future."  

Just where I want to be.

The existence of futuristic weather control technology aside, the rain sucked.  It brought the temperature down, slicked the streets, made everyone miserable.  Damn the Chinese government for caring about the well-being of their farmers and food supply! (For the cadre who is no doubt scouring this long defunct blog for anti-Chinese sentiment: That was sarcasm.  I am glad the government is caring about those things.)

But it did make life a bit more difficult.  First, midway through the gray morning, my power went off.  Wind blow the powerlines down?  No.  Ice storm?  Nope.  Unpaid electric card?  Nailed it.  

Every so often, I need to travel to the bank and reup my electric card.  You give them the card and money, they add it to card, then you slide it in to the meter at your apartment.  So I ransacked my house looking for my electric card (they are expensive to replace) and then rode my bike to the bank.  That all went well, no hitches, and then on my way back I took a corner too fast, and slid out, giving my arm a bit of road rash and my new jeans a bit of character.  As with my other bike accidents in Beijing, no one seemed to concerned.  I like to think that it's because I'm always sure to jump up immediately, to show how unfazed I am by the pavement, not that the Chinese people as a whole don't care for my well being.  

*this gets a bit heavy here*

On the flip side, the rain did finally wash away the bloodstain from the accident outside my house.  I left my house one day on a quick errand and passed a crowd of people, and ambulance, and a poor man lying on the ground, his sleeve soaked with a fair amount of blood.  At that time, I was able to hope the man was okay, that he would survive, it was a bad break, but he'd survive.  On my way back 5 minutes later, the crowd, ambulance, and man were gone, leaving behind a hat sitting in a pool of blood.  I think if that hat hadn't been there I would have been much more hopeful.  From then on, every time I passed that spot, the base part of my human nature searched out the stain, and I would utter a refrain of horror under my breath--"Oh god, oh god, oh god."  But now the rain has come and washed the stain away, and hopefully, it'll turn back into a just another stretch of street by my place.  

*end heaviness*

The rain also pushed me into a little hole in the wall serving Guilin noodles.  A new experience, and a delicious one.  What really made appreciate the place were placards over each table, much like no smoking signs, warning people of the hot pepper sauce.  A rough translation:  Our hot pepper sauce is really hot.  Please be careful how much you add to your noodles.  

It was spicy, but I'm not sure a sauce could ever be spicy enough to warrant such a sign.  Makes me think of the overly litigous society I come from.

This rain was yesterday, and today it is clear, bright, and beautiful.  Makes me happy that yesterday was yesterday, and I'm in today now.