“People’s Square, Everytown, PRC”

“People’s Square, Everytown, PRC”

Standing on the bridge, gazing past the fountains at the tai chi practitioner’s slow and concentrated movements, I inhale the calmness that their presence creates. Before I can exhale, the elderly man next to me releases a full-lung bellow that could rival any opera singer. He is unassumingly dressed in the uniform for Chinese men his age: old army jacket, newsboy cap, and canvass shoes.

Like millions of Chinese we have both started our day in the same way, rolling out of bed and heading to the People’s Square, “RenMin Guang Chang”, to stretch our bodies and move our chi. Morning exercises include people screaming and singing, beating fists against their bodies, walking backward, volleying a birdie, choreographed wooden sword fights, and the use of brightly colored exercise machines on the adult playgrounds.

Every medium and big Chinese city (big and enormous by Western standards) has a People’s Square that provides an unfettered view into local life. In a single day the People’s Square will be a gym, bathroom, dance studio, and living room for those who pass through it, and my western expectations of privacy are lost in the crowds.

As morning slips into afternoon the music starts. Middle-aged women wearing microphones attached to speakers on their belts unleash their super high sopranos. They harmonize with old men playing two and three stringed instruments, although my ears never hear a steady rhythm.

The old and the very young dominate People’s Squares. China’s school age children and teenagers are absent, due to a never-ending schedule of classes and homework. Toddlers, mostly boys, accompanied by their grandparents are everywhere.

I make eye contact with a two-year old who has a solitary square inch of hair on his otherwise cleanly shaven head. He has been dressed in so many layers of clothing that his arms remain at a ninety-degree angle from his body. His parent’s clothing choices display an important first lesson in Chinese culture: the enduring belief that cold air, cold water, or cold food will bring immediate and severe illness. This child has no reservations. His plants are split down the crotch and he stops freely to pee, narrowly missing the shoe of an inattentive tourist.

As night settles in the square will change again. On cue the dancers arrive, sometimes their timely arrival is the only choreographed part of their routine. They move their scarves and umbrellas lethargically around an invisible racetrack as recorded music plays in the background. On the outskirts twenty-somethings who have just finished work linger. The couples are in an endless cycle of breaking and mending relationships. Many wear t-shirts emblazoned with creatively spelt Western words, (Guccci or Parda written in rhinestones) or out of context English statements like - “Machine wash. Dry on low heat.” My laughter at this Chinglish is always met with confused glances - I am the only one who knows the difference.