Camouflaged Flags in Jiangmen

"A Story About Something Kind of Wonderful That Happened Yesterday" in Beijing

A series of tweets today by Te-Ping Chen, a Beijing-based reporter for the Wall Street Journal, resonated with me and apparently many others. Her story of discovery is well worth sharing beyond the world of Twitter, so here it is:

1/ I wanted to share a story about something kind of wonderful that happened yesterday. Backstory: I grew up in Oakland, Calif., not knowing really anything about my mother's family -- she was an only child (born in NYC) & my grandparents died before I was born.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

2/ I moved to Beijing in 2014 to work as a reporter for the Wall Street Journal. At the time all I knew dimly was that my great-grandmother was supposedly from here & had apparently lived in a traditional courtyard home. Not much to go on.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

3/ This Feb., I was back home helping my parents clean out the garage. In one corner, piled with old boxes and other detritus, was a trunk full of old clothes, furs & a cache of letters written by my great-grandmother (L) to my grandmother (R) from the 1930s to the 1950s. pic.twitter.com/kRDpjpiMze

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

4/ The letters are delightful, containing details about ice-skating in Beihai, the price of cabbage and electricity & changing fashions. Also talks about her husband's obsession with poetry -- he'd written hundreds of verses, she says. pic.twitter.com/Fymqtic8Bg

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

5/ The envelopes had an address, 57 Shijia Hutong. Astonishingly, given the vast majority of Beijing hutongs have been destroyed, not only does it still exist, but it's one of the city's best-preserved. pic.twitter.com/1GgSW7AxCx

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

6/ I went yesterday for the first time. It's just over a mile from where I live now, have biked by many times without knowing. There's a museum there that catalogues the lives of past residents, including artists and writers such as Ling Shuhua. pic.twitter.com/qC7TQn0F9y

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

7/ The museum is small & didn't yield much, but one of the staffers had a book she shared. It had an address-by-address breakdown, including a section on my great-grandparents, whose Chinese names I'd literally never known. They are 梁秋水 and 罗红庄.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

8/ As it turns out, my great-grandfather Liang Chiu-shui was one of China's earliest newspapermen, a journalist w/the English-language 北京导报, or Peking Leader. He wrote poems including 冀东兄弟行, about brothers on opposite sides of the civil war who meet on the battlefield.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

9/ According to the book, Woon Kyau Lo studied in Honolulu (which explains the English letters). Based on the tone of her writing, she was warm, critical & funny in the way so many Beijingers are -- the voice sounds very familiar today, even nearly a century later.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

10/ Still so many questions. I'd like to know where they're buried and learn more about their lives (& read Liang's poetry!). And I would love to meet any relatives. But for the moment, in a city where so much history has been obliterated, very grateful for what's been preserved.

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

11/ PS: the letters mention two books of my great-grandfather's poetry were being safeguarded by neighbors for family in America, one by "Miss Tsui's No. 2 Sister" and a "Miss Yu." Not surprisingly, so far no luck trying to track them down, but am continuing to ask around... pic.twitter.com/XHeok6JZn9

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

12/ !! And here's that poem of his I mentioned about two ill-fated brothers, 冀东兄弟行, which Josh Stenberg in Sydney kindly helped find. "Woe the evil omen in which the violet tree in the yard / suddenly collapsed from the blow of strong wind." Evidently based on a true story? pic.twitter.com/wwlCAz04Z6

— Te-Ping Chen (@tepingchen) April 2, 2018

A Sign of Democracy in China

One of China's 12 core socialistic values:

On a temporary wall in Guangzhou, Guangdong

A Smoking Game of Xiangqi in Jiangmen

In a post earlier this week featuring scenes from two sections of Baisha Road in Jiangmen, I mentioned that some people might question whether all of the scenes were really from Baisha Road. I felt inspired to put some more effort into the later post promised on that topic than I initially planned, so it will appear next week.

For now, I will instead add to the series of posts with photos of people playing xiangqi with an example alongside Dongguan Road — a road which will play a key role in next week's post about the potential Baisha Road dispute and a few online maps.

Cigarettes vs. Tobacco Pipe

Liquid Complexity in Jiangmen

Seen today outside a photography and graphic design studio in Jiangmen

Silence from the Air Quality Twitter Accounts for the U.S. Embassy and U.S. Consulates in China

Several years ago, David Roberts, the former Regional Strategic Advisor for USAID-Asia, wrote about the impact of the U.S. Embassy and several U.S. Consulates in China tweeting out regular reports of pollution levels.

In 2008, everyone knew Beijing was polluted, but we didn't know how much. That year, the US Embassy in Beijing installed a rooftop air-quality monitor that cost the team about as much as a nice car. The device began automatically tweeting out data every hour to inform US citizens of the pollution’s severity (@beijingair). . . .

At first, the Chinese government pushed back and pressured the Embassy to stop releasing the data, saying that “such readings were illegal”. Fortunately, the Embassy stood its ground. Eventually, the Chinese government relented and began implementing an effective monitoring system of its own. By the beginning of 2013, it had succeeded in setting up around 500 PM2.5 stations in over 70 cities. Later that year, completing its about-face, China pledged hundreds of billions of dollars for cleaning the air and began to implement pollution reduction targets for major cities (now, like the embassy data, defined in terms of PM2.5).

I have personally found the information provided by the tweets valuable on a number of occasions. And the tweets proved useful to include in pollution-related posts here covering topics such as deceptive blue skies and children breathing hazardous air.

So earlier this evening when I saw some comments about recent pollution readings in China, I found it odd that I couldn't recall recently seeing any air quality tweets from the U.S. Embassy in Beijing or the U.S. Consulate in Shanghai, whose respective accounts I both follow on Twitter.

I went to BeijingAir's Twitter page and saw a straightforward reason. The account had stopped tweeting over a month ago on February 13.

With the curious exception of the last report, since February 7 the tweets are all of the "No Data" variety. One possible explanation for the pattern could be a problematic air quality monitor.

So then I looked at the four U.S. Consulates in China that also report air quality readings on Twitter: Shanghai, Guangzhou, Chengdu, and Shenyang.

Like BeijingAir, they all stopped reporting at the same time on February 13. And with the exception of GuangzhouAir, they all ended with a stream of "No Data" tweets.

Whatever is happening, the "single bad machine" explanation doesn't cut it. In fact, it appears all of the air quality machines are just fine. The U.S. Department of State Mission China website currently displays recent readings for Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou, Chengdu, and Shenyang.

So the data is out there. And links to the respective twitter accounts still appear on the websites of the embassy and three of the consulates. Yet for longer than a month all of the U.S. Embassy and U.S. Consulate twitter accounts for reporting air quality information in China have been completely silent. This is a remarkable change.

I find it peculiar, at best, that I can't find any public explanation. So what's going on?

Late Night Lanterns in Jiangmen

Scenes from Two Sections of Baisha Road in Jiangmen

One section of Baisha Road (白沙路) in Jiangmen has a much older feel than other sections. Below are four photos capturing a bit of the life on that stretch this afternoon. For a contrast, the fifth photo captures another section of Baisha Road.

Some people may question whether this is all really Baisha Road. A later post will highlight some of the apparent disagreement on that issue.

Flowers and Rinds on a Park Bench in Jiangmen

Yesterday I saw red silk-cotton tree flowers and tangerine peels drying at two neighboring places. Today as I passed through a park I noticed the two items sitting out together.

Nearby, I noticed a couple more flowers on the ground.

I picked one up and then saw something fall to the ground with a thud. I picked up this fresh red silk-cotton flower as well.

Shortly after that, I saw another flower off to the side.

And now I had three hefty flowers in my hand.

A passing duck did not display any similar interest in the flowers as it swam by — not so surprising since ducks don't drink five flower tea.

Looking up, it was easy to spot the two trees that had produced the growing number of flowers I noticed on the ground.

As is often the case, I wouldn't have noticed the flowers high up in the otherwise barren trees if it hadn't been for the flowers on the ground, especially since the trees were intermixed with leafy trees of other types.

Although I was now the proud possessor of three fine flowers, I realized I probably wouldn't be able to put them to good use, such as five flower tea.

So soon there were three more flowers on the bench.

Sun Drying Flowers & Peels in Jiangmen

Yesterday shortly after going outside in Jiangmen, I saw more red silk-cotton flowers. These, though, were being dried in the sun.

Around the corner from there, more red silk-cotton flowers were drying.

Possibly some people are planning to use them to make herbal tea. The flowers are also used for soup and congee.

Next door, another item was sun drying.

Xinhui, a nearby district in Jiangmen, is known for its dried tangerine peel, used in a variety of foods, soups, and teas. So it wasn't surprising to see these tangerine peels on the ground, even outside a mobile phone repair shop.

I saw these three examples of drying during a brief outing which didn't cover a lot of ground. Undoubtedly, more could have found on that sunny day in Jiangmen.

Bountiful Bombax Ceiba Flowers

The previous post included a single photo of flowers I saw in Jiangmen. Around this time of year I have come across these flowers before, mostly in southern China. I took the above photo almost exactly one year ago elsewhere in Guangdong province at the Guangzhou Orchid Garden. Although the flower isn't an orchid, Guangzhou is a particularly fitting setting since this is the city's official flower.

The scientific name for the tree which produces the flower is Bombax ceiba. The tree is also known by a variety of other names in English such as red silk-cotton and kapok. The name "kapok" is used for some other trees as well, such as Cochlospermum gillivraei and the more closely related Ceiba pentandra, also known as the white silk-cotton tree. So it may be better to avoid using the name. At least in this region, the typical Chinese name is 木棉 (mùmián), which literally translates as "cotton tree".

Whatever you want to call the tree, I welcome seeing the large deeply-colored flowers. And they are one of the key ingredients for Five Flowers Tea (五花茶 - wǔhuāchá) — a traditional herbal tea common in Guangdong and Hong Kong which I drink simply because I enjoy its strong bitter flavor (no sugar, please).

I didn't mention any of these details before because I wanted the earlier photo to stand alone. But viewing the photo while sipping some Five Flowers Tea would probably work fine.

Red Flowers in Jiangmen