Tiananmen and Mao—not much and everything too. No english and few signs, just the pilgramage, chaotic and mysterious. Hard to know.

It's raining chemical warfare, and I'm drenched. The square is bubbly with fallout, but people aren't rushing for cover under umbrellas like they do in Seoul. Instead, people back up under trees and eaves to abide the torrents. Some of these shelters are airless places dank and warm, tuberculoid. I wonder how long they'll last there like that.

Can the rain make the commerce stop?

I wish it could.