Notes from China (2)

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Changchun, the capital of Jilin Province in the northeast, is the place where I call home in China. I was born in the city and my mother and two of my sisters live there today. I took an overnight soft sleeper train from Beijing to Changchun and arrived at 6:30 A.M. Despite my insistence on not meeting me at the station during a weekday, I heard the familiar voice of my sister Wen the moment I stepped out of the train station. My regret for taking the train and negotiating the push and pull of the Labor Day holiday crowd in Beijing dissipated when I saw the smiling faces of Wen and her husband Mingfu. I knew I was home.
As always, everywhere I turn to look, there seems to be changes. In addition to the new buildings and streets that emerge like mushrooms in the city, the most striking sight that catch my attention this time are the gated communities, with civilian guards lifting automated bars for passing vehicles and residents using magnetic cards to go through the side metal doors. The Aviation Garden where my sister and mother live follows suit as well. The muddy construction site three years before is now neatly lined up with nine 11 or 12-floor condo buildings, complete with paved roads, blooming trees, small parks, and of course, a guarded gate. The ground level of the three buildings facing a busy street is designed for commercial use and most of the space has been occupied by restaurants. From the 5th floor of my mother’s apartment I could see their flashing neon lights. I’m relieved that the smell of the stir-fry dishes permeating the air below doesn’t reach this high.
Thanks to my jetlag, I’m up at 4 A.M. every day. I write for a couple of hours before taking off for a nice jog in the South Lake Park nearby. I start each day with anticipation: the sudden rise in temperature bring the blossoms of cherry and lilac trees; the dirt on the side streets being dug up one day and filled with bushes the next; the green produce spread out on the ground at a nearby farmer’s market, and the fresh tofu I pick up each morning on my return from the jog. I observe everything with the curiosity and excitement of a visitor. Part of me feel right at home, but the other part is keenly aware of the land that I’m no longer so accustomed to.
Jian Ping, author of Mulberry Child: A Memoir of China. www.mulberrychild.com.
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