real eyez

I'm pretty sure there's time when words can spill from your fingers. Today, is not one of them, nor are most. But I find myself wondering about the world, so I might as well type away.

I was walking home from dinner today and realized one on those things that's right in front of your face but veiled by the monotony of everyday life. Within the walls of my apartment complex there's a little fruit and vegetable stand. The couple that owned the stand were closing up. It was dark and getting progressively frigid. They had hung a tarp to protect their produce from Beijing's freezingness, and were beginning to cook their dinner outside on the sidewalk on a small gas stove. It smelled great as I walked by, so I looked twice. First glances tend to be cursory, second glances tend to aroused by a need for more substance. And it was on glance number two that I realized what I already knew, this couple lived with the fruits of their labor. (I just liked how that sounds, but the meaning is weak.) But their fruit stand is the same as their home. Their kitchen is the sidewalk. Squatting down in front of their front door for light and heat, they ate their food.

Beijing is getting cold. Really cold. Every night in our apartment, I'm freezing, and getting up in the morning is impossible. Beijing still hasn't turned on the heat. It's hard to imagine that this couple sleeps in their fruit stand in the depth of winter.

So something I already knew became real to me. And I think it's important to mention that this is life in Beijing. And as easy as it is label this couple's standard of living poor or unfair, such a description doesn't fit.