As urban residents wield greater purchasing power, sophisticated shopping becomes an ever-important status symbol. Those at the top of Beijing’s increasingly stratified income brackets constantly seek to distinguish themselves from the rest of the pack. Conspicuous consumptive habits thus provide instant prominence and luxury companies are scrambling to cater to and expand upon every whim and desire. Designer clothing, sports cars, and jet-set vacations become necessary additions to any ostentatious parvenu enjoying the taste of once forbidden fruits.

This weekend I bore witness to the star-studded opening of Lane Crawford’s department store in Beijing. It’s a four-story behemoth in a glitzy mall and only stocks vogue international fashion designers. Apparently Beijing has stepped into the sartorial big leagues. Whether or not the store will make money is another question. Beijing doesn’t exude pretentious airs quite like Shanghai or Hong Kong yet. Local shoppers prefer to browse the racks and then hit the streets in search of similar black-market counterfeits. Still, this won’t stop major luxury brands vying to cash in on Beijing’s nouveau riche and their swelling materialistic obsessions. Too much is at stake in this potential market.

Unfortunately sipping on Moet all evening and ogling $5,000 USD Raf Simmons leather jackets can only provide so much enjoyment. Such prices smack of insolence considering the average income of rural farmers in China still tops out at around $225 USD per year according to the Xinhua News Agency. Even most city dwellers who average $750 USD per year would be left out of the commodity feeding frenzy occurring in department stores across Beijing. Many disenfranchised economic groups are starting to take action though, and the Chinese state is starting to realize the vast potential of widespread social unrest if income gaps continue to widen in favor of those already lining their closets with Givenchy, Paul Smith, and Prada. Even though the potential for a luxury backlash looms ever on the horizon, for now nothing seems to stand in the way of these corporate giants.

See “China’s hunger for luxury goods grows” for an excellent description of Chinese yuppies aka chippies.

The #5 subway line was all the rage when it first opened earlier this month. Locals lined up for blocks to catch an inaugural ride on the latest edition to Beijing’s underground. Although initial excitement soon subsided, people’s expectations for more and better transit options reached new heights. The slick #5 subway cars sported flat screen monitors displaying local news, spotless interiors, and exacting temperature control. The antiquated #1 and #2 subway lines still run on time, but now stand out as the ugly stepsisters of Beijing’s expanding public transportation system.

The opening of the #5 subway line also reshuffled Beijing’s suburban housing market – everyone wants to live next to a subway line these days. Traffic congestion is without a doubt the largest drawback stemming from recent surges in urban wealth and population density. Beijing’s newfound love affair with the car might come to a grisly end if traffic levels continue to rise at the current pace. Nobody can escape the mind bogglingly clogged expressways after 5PM. I would rather shoot myself in the foot than face such a cataclysm on a daily basis. The northern terminus of the #5 subway line thus stands to become the newest haven for low-income workers looking to escape increasing housing prices in the city center while maintaining a relatively short commute.

Picking an appropriately dreary afternoon, I headed out to investigate the new residential developments at the end of the #5 subway line. The area in question encompassed the last three subway stops and bore the unsettlingly kitschy name Pathway to Heaven Gardens (天通苑). If your idea of paradise includes high-rise concrete housing blocks arranged like a precarious domino set, look no further. These hulking domiciles symbolize the pinnacle of China’s insipid community planning; even the grassy fields surrounding the development appeared devoid of life. Only the occasional movement of tenants scurrying in and out of the complex lent a breath of vitality to the concrete jungle.

The only redeeming value of the area was the people living there. I stuck out like a sore thumb and soon struck up a number of conversations with inquisitive locals. My favorite included a gang of young security officers from Hebei Province skirting their duties and hanging out underneath the end of the of #5 subway line. They were happy to have jobs in Beijing but found the community lacking the warmth of their hometowns. It’s not hard to imagine such difficulties would occur within the migratory population, but their living environment did nothing to establish new bonds between the residents. I plan to revisit this area throughout the year so expect more reports concerning the Pathway to Heaven Gardens.

The 17th National People’s Congress taking place this week in Beijing has solidified President Hu’s grip on the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) and insured his ideological musing will be engraved alongside those espoused by previous leaders of China. Calling for a “harmonious society” that implements the “scientific concept of development,” President Hu’s moralistic yet vague proclamations also provide cover for the real issue at hand: no one knows how the most critical decisions regarding China’s future are being handled and whether or not economic or environmental reform will actually be implemented. While the “democratically” elected People’s Congress with ethnic minority representatives in full native dress put on a good show, they are mainly there to give a nod of approval to predetermined policy. No one has the slightest clue as to what goes on behind the closed doors of the Politburo.

Even though transparency within the CCP’s decision-making process will not come to light in the near future, President Hu looks good on paper. The China Daily has recently put together an impressive collection of propaganda articles that introduces us to the lighter side of President Hu. My favorite part has to be the slide show entitled “President Hu meets people.” Truly inspirational. Even though the China Daily still remains a mouthpiece for the CCP, they did surprisingly post a few articles criticizing the government’s inability to implement a green GDP system and highlighting how the complaint bureau remains the busiest office in Beijing due to widespread corruption. Luckily President Hu is “meeting people” and has called for officials to remain, “sober-minded, firm in politics, [and] pragmatic in style of work.” What a fine man we have at the helm of the most populous nation in the world. I already feel myself being lulled into indifference.

Luckily this ambiguous situation provides plenty of fodder for China pundits and graduate students forcing out dissertations around the world. Everyone wants to take a whack at the good old CCP chopping block. Fortunately I do not feel qualified to unravel such a skein. My only wish is to blindly submit myself to the nationwide morality drive implemented by President Hu last year concerning the eight honors and disgraces of society: Love the country, do it no harm; Serve the people, never betray them; Follow science, discard superstition; Be diligent, not indolent; Be united, help each other, make no gains at other’s expense; Be honest and trustworthy, do not sacrifice ethics for profit; Be disciplined and law-abiding, not chaotic and lawless; Live plainly, work hard, do not wallow in luxuries and pleasures. Sounds good to me but let’s see what happens.

Beijing’s burgeoning music scene is finally coming into its own. Venues like D-22, Mao Live House, and Yugong Yishan serve up nightly sets of rock, punk, and other emerging talents that defy categorization. When I first arrived in Beijing seven years ago not much could be said about local live acts. Aside from a few diamonds in the rough, cheesy jazz trios and mediocre cover bands dominated most musical engagements. Now I have already witnessed numerous performances that could put New York’s much touted music scene to shame. There is an undeniable energy in these small clubs as more bands emerge on a monthly basis.

Some of my early favorites have to be the Subs, Queen Sea Big Shark, The Scoff, Joyside, Banana Monkey and the Carsick Cars. All of them sport a raucous sound and driving beats that quickly whip crowds into frenzied states. The Subs lead singer Kang Mao deserves special mention. Her inspired performance last Friday at D-22 blew me away – she has a remarkable stage presence (apparently she maintains such intensity at every show). This might be old news for Beijing music aficionados but deserves attention from anyone returning to Beijing and looking for some raw action.

Joyside and the Carsick Cars also just released albums under the newcomer Beijing label Maybe Mars. Their powerful, pop-inflected tunes earn them a deservedly loyal fan base. Joyside devotees are especially notorious for their alcoholic excesses inspired by front man Bian Yuan who bears a marked resemblance to the great Jim Morrison in his tight leather pants and tapered shirts. Lastly, even though I have not met him yet, vocalist Lee Lee from The Scoff seems like the coolest dude in town.

Expect more entries about the local music scene in the near future – I have luckily landed myself a gig to take portraits of these musicians for D-22.

A host of unpleasant situations potentially face the Chinese State while it prepares for the 2008 Summer Olympics. Political activists in China and around the planet see the event as an important opportunity to air their many grievances. Groups like Students for a Free Tibet have already taken advantage of the situation and garnered international attention by staging a protest on the Great Wall concerning the military presence and lack of political autonomy in Tibet. Disenfranchised domestic social groups and prohibited religious movements like Falun Gong are all likely to make some sort of appearance next summer and the world will be watching. For many, granting Beijing the Olympics slights the humanitarian ideals the event is supposed to represent.

The Olympic Charter’s second Fundamental Principle of Olympism:
“The goal of Olympism is to place sport at the service of the harmonious development of man, with a view of promoting a peaceful society concerned with the preservation of human dignity.”

Much can be said about the Chinese state’s lack of commitment to such standards but now an even larger blemish has appeared on the face of the forthcoming Olympics: the Chinese state’s refusal to take action against the Burmese military junta’s brutal oppression of recent nonviolent protests staged by Buddhist monks. Such tactics have been employed in the past by the Chinese state and their unwillingness to put pressure on the Burmese military may foreshadow events to come.

Fred Hiatt at the Washington Post has taken an excellent stand on the issue: What We Owe the Burmese

Only those of true revolutionary spirit braved the elements to witness the Chinese flag hoisted above Tiananmen Square at dawn this National Day. Not many survived the long night of revelry to diligently stand at attention on the hallowed ground where Mao founded the People’s Republic of China and was finally laid to rest in his oversize mausoleum. Fallen patriots who succumbed to the cold rain lay scattered about underground walkways leading up to Tiananmen while running dogs of capitalism bustled about hawking their overpriced umbrellas and ponchos to the shivering masses. Luckily I came prepared in my windbreaker and marched resolutely into the square after tucking in a plate of steamed buns at Qianmen.

Jockeying for position close to the flagpole proved difficult when police officers cordoned off various sections of the square devoted to massive billboards displaying nationalistic slogans such as, “Vivaciously celebrate the 58th anniversary of the establishment of the People’s Republic of China!” or, “Steadfastly hold to the great path of China’s unique social ideology!” Nonetheless, the assembled revolutionaries seemed more concerned with the persistent umbrella battle raging amongst those packed closest to the front – many were martyred on spiked parasols wielded by tiny ladies repelling the ceaseless tide of bodies cramming for a closer glimpse of the ceremony. The sea of umbrellas only receded when the stirring drum overture of the Chinese national anthem called the crowd to attention. Everyone then raised their mobile phones to solute the flag and capture the special moment as “March of the Volunteers” resounded throughout Tiananmen.

Arise,
Ye who refuse to be slaves!
With our very flesh and blood,
Let us build our new Great Wall!
The peoples of China are in the most critical time,
Everybody must roar his defiance.
Arise!
Arise!
Arise!
Millions of hearts with one mind,
Brave the enemy’s gunfire, March on!
Brave the enemy’s gunfire, March on!
March on!
March on!
On!

The spirited lyrics of the song struck a deep chord in the audience. Seconds after the final note everyone marched straight to the exit. I remained to pay respect to Mao’s portrait looming over the entrance of the Forbidden City – it’s pastel background reflecting the soft hues of the rising sun.