in my last post, i described beijing skyscrapers as glinting in the sun. i now realize that is a completely inaccurate way to describe the beijing skyline. most of the time, like today, i am barely able to make out the edges of the large buildings in the white haze.
thinking back, the only reason that image of glinting skyscrapers existed in my head was because a few weeks ago, for five days straight, beijing was pollution-free.
for five blissful days, i loitered in patches of sun, enjoying the warm tingle on my skin, the cool wind on my face, and the arid desert weather that reminded me so much of california. i drew in deep breaths of spring air until i was lightheaded. and after the dizzying euphoria of each clean inhalation came a deflating sadness, with the constantly returning thought—this is what beijing could be like.
but of course, this is not true. beijing could never be this blue-skied, pink-blossomed paradise. the ever-present smog comes from the same massive exhalation that breathed these skyscrapers and cars into being, that powered the monstrous engine behind the city’s rapid growth.
besides, smoggy beijing has its own alien-planet, dystopian kind of beauty.
the daytime is almost always dispiriting. starting each day requires overcoming the dull pang of dejection upon waking up to the dim light filtering through the curtains and drawing them open upon a scene of hazy gray.
but at dusk, sometimes you can stare directly at the dusty red sun, and there is something thrilling about it.
and at night, on the way home in a taxi, wide lanes stretch ahead into soft darkness, and the lighted signs atop buildings appear as huge words with neon halos, floating baseless in the sky.
and no matter how long i spend hiding from the pollution indoors, or behind a face mask, the smog finds its way into my body anyways, manifesting itself as a tightness like a fist in my chest. i can only spend so long trying to keep the city air from entering my body, especially now that i am coming to love the sounds and smells it carries.
and so, every now and then, i close my eyes, breathe in deeply, and let the dirty air into my lungs.
—
在我上一篇文章中，我描述了北京的摩天大楼在阳光下闪烁。我现在意识到这是一个完全不准确的描述方法。大多数时候像今天，我几乎无法在白色的薄雾中描绘出远方大楼的棱角。
回想起来，那闪烁的摩天大楼的形象存在于我的头脑中的唯一原因是因为，几周前连着五天北京没有污染。
那五天幸福的日子，我在一片一片的太阳下闲逛，享受那温暖的阳光，那凉爽的风。那干旱的沙漠气候让我怀想加州。我使劲呼吸那春天的空气直到我头昏眼花。在每个吸入的快感后来呼出的伤感，不断的想：原来北京可以这么美。
当然，这其实不可能。北京不可能是这阳光灿烂的天堂。北京的污染来自同一个建起这些摩天大楼的，推动这快速发展的巨大雾霾呼气。
此外，烟雾弥漫的北京也拥有自己一种反乌托邦的美。
白天几乎都是令人沮丧的。每天早上得克服沉闷的光线，把窗帘打开，好望上一场灰色朦胧的风景。
但在黄昏，有时你可以直接盯着一个令人惊险奇怪的深红太阳。
晚上，在回家的出租车里，宽阔的大路延伸到柔和的黑暗，建筑物上方的灯光标志看起来像巨大的，在空中飘浮的霓虹灯。
反正，无论我花多少心思在室内躲污染，或带着口罩，烟雾也肯照样进入我的肺，感觉像个拳头在我的胸部。我只能花那么多时间逃避我城市的空气，尤其因为我越来越爱惜这空气所带来的声音和气味。
所以，我偶尔会闭上眼睛，深深地呼吸，让那污浊的空气进入我的身体。
hog maw 