This morning Y and I went to a market in town where people from all over China sell their wares. It was pretty cool seeing all the stuff, but all the stuff was the stuff you see all over the world in stores that sell cheap things from China and Tibet. It was neat seeing men and women from the far out provinces, including Tibet and those near the -stans. I managed to find a yixing tea pot that I liked well enough and a little draining pot just big enough for the pot. These were extremely cheap—a little over $10 for both.

Lovin' the pingpong.

Every other person at the market was smoking some toxic Chinese cigarettes, which gave me a horrid headache and a scratchy throat. I longed for a Coke or Starbucks or something, so we came back to the Riviera and A drove us in the Merc to the largest Starbucks in China, which isn't in Beijing proper, but in a strip mall (no kidding) next to the largest expat compound (mostly US Embassy families) in the country. I had my poor-man's mocha sitting on a velvet couch listening to Norah Jones. We ordered pizza and Coke from the Dominos next door and ate that there too. A medicinal meal.

Art from North Korea.

Afterward, sated and caffeinated, A drove me back into town to visit a tea shop I visited when I was here last. It is located somewhere in the hutong of Qianmen. The area was crammed with Chinese as it is adjacent to Tiananmen Square and we are still in the holiday week. A couldn't find a way to get the car into the small alleyways of the hutong, so I set out on foot. I walked fast and busted through, but I couldn't find the shop. I remember encountering it while meandering through the hutong, which is a tangle of small grey buildings and alleyways. It would take too much time to explore them. And, the time, if spent, might be wasted anyway if the place has been demolished.

So many of the old neighborhoods that I walked through during that last visit have been destroyed and replaced. Some of that acreage is now the site of a gigantic stadium for the 2008 Olympics. They tell me no one laments the loss of the hutong except for tourists wanting to see the old way of life. The hutong were wretched. The residents are happy to improve their standard of living. When a neighborhood is destroyed, the government relocates people to newer structures. I'm sure it's not all good, but it's probably more sanitary.

I was thinking that the destruction of the hutong does not indicate the destruction of that part of the culture. It just represents the evolution of that social system. Even the newer buildings are built in a more modern representation of the multifamily house surrounding a courtyard: Now they are communities of skyscrapers encompassing a full city block and including community resources such as gardens, stores, fitness facilities, and so on. It's more difficult for tourists to discern the old way of living when it is presented this way, though.

The day was sunny though less clear, so it was nice driving around town—in the Mercedes! Back at the Riviera, we walked with T to a park and played and then bought groceries from the local black market store. We had crepes for dinner, and after I write this, I'll have crepes for dessert.

Tomorrow is my last day here—a half day. I don't have any plans. I'll probably sleep late and relax. I'll check mail before I go. You have my flight info, right? You know, I arrive in Vancouver in time to drive home before my connecting flight to Seattle. What a pain. I will call you if I can.