ChinaBlog Day 30

I'm amazed at the sequence of events that led me to this place. It is 7:30 in the morning, and I'm huddled on a stranger's balcony overlooking the main square of Caochangdi village outside of Beijing. Freezing to death. Between me and the torrential, icy stare of mother nature is a cotton shirt one size too small and the acceptance that I may have overlooked a few items during my morning gatherings. In my defense, it is the third day of June and this is the first of this weather I have encountered in Beijing. At the overcast crack of dawn it looked like I'd be good to videotape the village's morning routines, but my camera has long ago scampered into the driest corner it could find, useless. I arrived at my elevated perch one hour before, having cleared the permissions with owners of the nearby apartment. I set up my very much not waterproof (nor even mistproof) camera pointing down at the square, anxiously awaiting the explosion of activity that signals each workday's hello. Rocking back on my heels with a whistle, I waved confidently at some passers-by who had noticed the camera and sat down on a little plastic stool next to the tripod. Just as I began to hate myself for not bringing a book a frigid, sloppy splash shook me from my silent contemplation of a strange black bug on the railing. You would think that would be the point at which I realized I was in trouble. Instead, I did the next obvious thing, which was to hold my backpack over the camera in the accumulating rain with the vain hope of it letting up before my arms fell off. It was only after I had sapped every ounce of strength keeping the ever-weightier sack over this tiny piece of electronics that was now recording absolutely no one down below that I began to question my decisions on this matter. With a tremendously heavy heart, I shut down the feed and waltzed my backpack-over-tripod into the only spot completely sheltered by the small eve above. I slid my sopping stool as far clear of the stinging torrent as was possible, and sank onto it with a splash.
--Now I'm just waiting. Waiting for Mother to drain her fury. Waiting for people to return to their outdoor lives. Waiting for any bit of clear so I can try to salvage this utterly bizarre morning. A few minutes ago an elderly lady who lives in the apartment behind me came out to gave my soggy bones a sympathetic smile. A pity poncho would be more useful. I tried to explain that to her, but my limited vocabulary of 'hello', 'goodbye', 'right turn', 'left turn', 'straight ahead', and 'I am an American' only caused her to frown ruefully while slowly clicking the door shut in my face. The few people braving the slop below haven't taken notice of my plight, but that's kind of the point. I'm on my own, and it's just a matter of principle whether or not I pack up and leave this ice cave. So, to kill time before my inevitable defeat, I imagine the incredible sequence of events that led me to this moment.
--Sure, I woke up this morning with my camera charged and nothing but filming on the agenda. But if I'd checked the weather, I would have avoided much of this problem by bringing an umbrella. That would have been sure to guarantee not a single drop of rain. But before even that, I chose to come to Beijing for my thesis instead of staying home to work on it. And before that I made the decision to do a project concerning the movement of people. Before that I was led down the path towards a thesis by attending SCI-Arc, and I chose to go there because of my interest in architecture and my love of Los Angeles. But I could not have begun my studies in this field without an undergraduate degree from UCLA, the opportunity for which was provided me because of the emphasis on higher learning of my high school. But I would not have attended such a place had my parents not known early on how incredibly important a strong education can be. So, in other words, I am shivering in the corner of this drenched metal balcony jotting sloppy wet smudges into my sketchbook, watching the increasingly angry rain inch ever closer to my hiding place, all because of the diligent upbringing of my wonderful parents. Thanks guys, I wouldn't be here without you. :)
-c