I moved from my hometown Wuxi to Beijing when I was six. Exotic, that’s how I saw the relationship between my family and the city. We lived in the eastern part of Beijing, which used to be a rural suburb. In the 1990s, it became the city’s Central Business District (CBD). Since that time, skyscrapers and shopping malls have been built. Businessmen from all over China went there for better opportunities. As a result, most residents in Beijing CBD were “exotic”: They came from other parts of China.
Compared to the narrow streets and peaceful rivers in my hometown Wuxi, Beijing was a crowded city with wide, Soviet-style roads. The buildings were huge—not that accessible. People’s accent was rude. Traffic jams and air pollution were everywhere. It was hard to walk on sidewalks because most part of them were occupied by cars parked beside streets. If there is a color that can represent Beijing, grey would be my first impression.
My impression of the city started to change when I saw the city’s development. When I was seven, the main road beside my home frequently had traffic jams, which annoyed me a lot. There was a construction site beside the road, but I did not know what it was for. One day, the fence of the site was removed, and I saw a brand-new subway station. I ran into the station, clean, bright, which deeply amazed me. Since then, I went to school by subway every day. The traffic jam problem on the street was solved. This big improvement changed my impression of Beijing. I started to follow the construction news of the Beijing Subway. Whenever a new line opened, I would be excited.
For these years’ development, Beijing has become a modern city. Yet, it still has an ancient characteristic. Because I lived in the new district of Beijing, I did not have much chance to see its ancient part--the inner city. The situation changed when I entered high school, which is located in the central part of the city. The neighborhoods around my school consisted of narrow pedestrian streets called Hutong and traditional Chinese houses called Siheyuan. Some of them used to be houses for old Chinese royalties, and others might have unique stories that were closely related to Chinese history. My favorite thing to do after school was to ride a shared bike, cycle around the inner city, observe historic buildings, and figure out the histories behind them. I could see native Beijing residents—most of them were old people—sitting at the door of their houses, flapping a fan, and chatting with their neighbors who also sat at their own doors. I did not hate the Beijing accent anymore. Although it was rude, it was more “down-to-earth’ like Southern U.S. English. That is the smell of life.
I love Beijing. I’m not exotic to it anymore. I’ve become a part of it. I’m proud of it.
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