A quick one before getting underway

A final shot of my daughter's school, taken after going there to pick up her diploma 

Rest and recuperation is supposed to be exactly that. My current tour in Beijing 北京 allows up to 3 R&R trips, a reflection of both the unique challenges faced when working in China, and of the particular hardships that occurred during the COVID-19 crisis (more on that later). Our first opportunity to escape Beijing took place at the end of last year, when we traveled to Sydney. R&R trip #2 kicked off for me this past Saturday as I flew solo from Beijing Capital Airport 北京首都国旗机场 to Incheon in South Korea, and then from there to Seattle. After ten months or so accumulating unhealthy amounts of stress, the result of trying (without much success) to live up to the expectations of a demanding supervisor, in theory this visit should be an opportunity to refresh my batteries, ready to take on anew the challenges of the workplace under a new regime.

However, unlike past getaways, this one will be tinged with a touch of melancholy, as the main purpose of spending time in the U.S. (other than seeing family again after a couple of years overseas) will be to see our one and only child off to college as she prepares to begin life as a university freshman. To prepare for this momentous step, Amber and Shu-E preceded my arrival in the States by a couple of weeks, staying with my sister as my daughter takes care of various adult matters of business, such as obtaining a driver's license, opening a bank account, signing up for a cell phone plan and shopping for all the things she will need upon moving into her dorm room later this month. Before I hopped on a plane, the girls sent some photos of life in my sister's backyard:

And here's Amber receiving her flu and Covid booster shots courtesy of her cousin, who conveniently happens to be a pharmacist technician: 

Unfortunately, after months of laying the groundwork for this trip, I found out too late that the dates away from the office almost exactly coincide with those of this year's bidding season. Along with the employee evaluation review process and language training, bidding is one of the worst parts of toiling away in the State Department, an ordeal of institutionalized ass kissing job-hunting as you compete with hundreds of others for a limited number of choice positions both in the U.S. and overseas. I've never been very good at prostituting selling myself in stilted telephone or Teams conversations, with the end results so far being job offers for positions other than those I've really wanted*.

What's going to make this bidding experience especially unpleasant is the fact that I'm going to have to do it while trying to access government systems from "home". And, of course, after being assured by the IT pros in Beijing that I shouldn't experience any problems doing so, I can't log into those systems. I spent 45 minutes on the phone this morning in an attempt to restore access, though at the time of writing I remain locked out. 

And if this can't be resolved, then there's a very good chance my final tour (and it will almost certainly be my last) will take place in a genuine hardship locale, or worse, in Washington, D.C., where the cost of living will leave me bankrupt and my daughter burdened with student debt.

I'll end this wallowing dunk in self-pity by sharing a few photographs of some of the things I did before arriving in the Pacific Northwest, plus an additional few since I've arrived...

I frequently share photos online and in this blog of the colorfully-lit nighttime scenery along the Liangma 亮马河 canal. Like this:

However, one evening I went for a stroll before getting ready for bed and learned the lights go out after 2300 hours:

The Saturday afternoon before last I did something I haven't done in far too long a time - walk more than 10,000 steps in a single outing. The route I took was one devoid of any Instagram-worthy photo ops as once you get away from the tourist sites, your typical Beijing neighborhood outside of the hutongs 胡同 isn't as interesting as, say, the average Tōkyō 東京 residential area. I took a few photographs nonetheless, like this narrow lane lined with small restaurants:

The Chinese characters just say "I am a shop owner" so I'm not sure where the Buddha part comes in, most likely because I focused on the phrase and paid next to no attention as to what kind of business this Buddhist owns. Which I why I also didn't notice the words "The Japan Pride" until after I uploaded the picture onto my laptop. Aware of my surroundings I am not:

Came (?) attractions for a drive-in movie theater:

The next day I went for a bike ride, another activity I hadn't been doing enough of lately. For this occasion I eschewed bicycle trails and rode on the city streets, though before you're taken with my bravery and toughness, it should be noted Beijing's roads frequently have special lanes for cycles and motorbikes. I still had to maneuver through a busy traffic circle at one point, noted for its large-scale model of a traditional Chinese ritual bronze (perhaps a ding 鼎?):

The Overseas Chinese History Museum 中国华侨历史博物馆. I've wanted to take Amber there, but that will probably have to wait until when she visits us between terms:

My eventual destination following a short trek of around half an hour turned out to be Tongjiao Temple 通教寺, a rarity in Beijing in that it's an active Buddhist place of worship. The original temple was erected during the Ming Dynasty 明朝 before being reconstructed as a nunnery during the Qing Dynasty 清朝. Most of the existing structures, however, date from after 1942:

Most of the complex is off-limits to visitors but the small courtyard can be explored. The gaudier of two incense burners on the central path:

Bang a gong, get it on:

You can ring my bell:

I don't want to work, I just want to bang on the drum all day:

Notice my cycling kit, carefully assembled so I wouldn't look like a twat. Helmet? A U.S. Embassy baseball cap, purchased from the commissary for the express purpose of using it to absorb sweat. Jersey? A Shanghai Shenhua F.C. 上海申花足球俱乐部 top that's on the verge of becoming too small to continue wearing. Not pictured are pants (an aging pair of shorts that is progressively difficult to zip up) and hand protection (an old pair of batting gloves):

History is around every corner in Beijing:

Come Labor Day I took the subway to the Nanluoguxiang 南锣鼓巷 hutong, a traditional alley with a long history that has since been turned into a tourist zone replete with small shops selling snacks and tourist tat. I was hoping to pick up some souvenirs for the R&R visit but almost everything I came across was either too cute or tacky. In the end I came away empty-handed but with my sense of aesthetics bruised but still intact:

Earlier I referred to the legacy of the recent coronavirus, one being the number of R&R trips. Another was the generous cap on the cost of airline tickets, put in place when the cost of flying reached astronomical levels during the epidemic. Although the cap has since been reduced to reflect the current situation, I was able to get my request approved in time to be able to take in the pleasures of flying business class (from Incheon to Seatac, anyway), from waiting in the lounge before boarding...

...to being able to stretch my long frame...

...to actually enjoying a meal on a flight:

While on my way to the boarding gate in Incheon, I caught a glimpse of a KBO League game on TV. We probably won't have time to take in a Kia Tigers on our upcoming trip to South Korea, meaning I won't be able to see the Pikki Pikki dance in person:

My first time eating out on this trip back to the U.S. of A...at a Taiwanese restaurant located in a shopping center anchored around a large Asian supermarket:

Lunching at a shopping mall food court:

As my daughter pointed out this afternoon, this area has become a lot more Asian since the last time we were here, including these two outlets (here and here) which are frequently encountered in Beijing:

Time to end this rant on a more positive note. Technology headaches are a fact of modern life (especially in my line of work), so all I can do is let those who manage the systems try to make things do that which they're supposed to. In the meantime, there's a laundry list of personal to-do items to see to, family to spend time with, a country to get briefly reacquainted with and, of course, a child to send off into the real world. 

Here's hoping the next post will be more upbeat in tone...

*Though for the record I did enjoy being in Addis Ababa, at least for the first half half of our tour in Ethiopia, before the coronavirus and the conflict in Tigray turned the posting into a real hardship. And here in Beijing, despite struggling to learn a new set of skills from what I'd done before, I was relishing the challenge...until a new supervisor arrived who combined micro-managing with inappropriate comments regarding my age and health. Which just goes to prove that it isn't where you work, but whom you work with, that is the determining factor in whether or not you feel satisfied in whatever it is you need to be doing in order to eat (or put a child through tertiary education). 

The following musical selections hopefully go some way toward explaining the apparently bad puns in the above temple photos: