In the Beijing neighborhood that I stayed in last week, I noticed a wall covered with propaganda paintings (in the US, we might call them “public service announcements”). I’m always fascinated by these paintings and/or posters as they give a glimpse into what the leaders are concerned about and what the leaders think the people should be concerned about.
These propaganda paintings are typically done in the style of “socialist realism” — sturdy, square-jawed hero conquering whatever difficulty lies before them.
But these were different. In terms of color and style, they seemed to be evoking traditional Buddhist art instead of socialist realism. I know that the government has been on a campaign to promote traditional culture and cultural values; this was the first I had seen it reflected artistically in propaganda.
Here are a few examples:
More on Slogans
Slogans That Changed China
Slogans That Probably Won’t Change China
When I moved back to the States 5 years ago, I envisioned returning to China often, so even though I closed up my apartment and shipped nearly all of my belongings, I left behind at a friend’s house a small blue bag with some items I didn’t want to haul back and forth. Think toiletries and a hair dryer.
It’s been convenient because whenever I do go to Beijing I stay with that friend, and she always greets me at the door with my blue bag!
Last Sunday morning, as I was preparing to leave Beijing and fly back to Minnesota, my friend said to me, “See you next time. As long as your blue bag is here, I know you’re coming back!”
And of course she’s right!
Last night while at a restaurant with friends in Beijing, I had one of those quintessential China interactions. It was beastly hot, so I ordered a can of Coke to go with my meal.
The waitress responded, “hot or cold?”
Lest you think she was off her rocker, hot coke is a thing here!
Not the Real Thing
China celebrates International Women’s Day every year on March 8. Usually what that means is women in the workplace are hosted to a lunch or perhaps given the afternoon off. When I taught at a university in China, my classes were in the morning, so I always felt a bit cheated when the school officials proudly announced that we didn’t have to work in the afternoon.
When I lived in Beijing I occasionally got to attend a Women’s Day luncheon, hosted for foreign women in the city at the Great Hall of the People, China’s main government building. The event was held in the banquet hall, which can host a sit-down banquet for 10,000 people!
As you can see, this photo was taken awhile ago. The waitresses are all soldiers isn the People’s Liberation Army (PLA).
I always enjoyed the chance to visit this historic place where President Nixon dined with Premier Zhou En-lai in 1972.
While visiting a Temple Fair in Beijing during Spring Festival one year, I spotted this street performer having a rest on a park bench. I love the colors.
Snapped one afternoon during a stroll through one of Beijing’s remaining hutong (lane) neighborhoods. So much going on: the man delivering coal briquettes; the fresh fruit; the umbrellas. the sign for donkey meat hot pot; the “family style restaurant;” the white sky.
Sigh. I do miss Beijing!
On a late summer afternoon in Beijing, I parked myself on the side of a busy road and snapped pictures of people on their evening commute. This was my favorite.
She was riding due west, into a bright sun, hence the “Darth Vader” hat. And if you think it’s purpose is to merely shield her eyes from the sun, you’d be mistaken. It is to keep the sun from darkening her skin.
You may recognize this as the cover photo on my book, Survival Chinese Lessons.
This is one of the churches that I write about in my book The Bells Are Not Silent: Stories of Church Bells in China. The Xishiku Catholic Church was founded in 1703 and was originally christened The Church of Our Savior.
My fellow bell-hunters and I somehow convinced the priest to let his assistant take us up into the towers to see the old bells. We climbed up the dusty stairs into the east steeple (on the right in the photo) to see the bell hanging there. But where was the second bell?
It was in the west tower, which meant in order to see it we would have to climb into the space between the sanctuary ceiling and the roof of the cathedral and crawl across some ancient dust-covered beams. Spring did her best to talk me out of it, fearing that I might fall through the ceiling and land on the parishioners praying in the sanctuary. But I was not to be thwarted; I was determined to see this bell, her pleadings notwithstanding. (p. 76)
You can read the whole story in the book!