This Is Not Your Mother or Father's China

Pristine and brilliantly-polished granite floors. High tech steel beamed architecture. Gucci, BMW, and Clarins Boutiques. Jean-clad men and women talking animatedly on mobile phones as they navigate Beijing International Airport (symbol, PEK), this is China today. It is clearly not your mother or father’s China. We arrived exhausted, but filled with anticipation as we moved toward Immigration and Customs, where our health forms were perfunctorily collected with nary a glance, leaving me a bit cynical about my thoughtful consideration of whether to check snivel or psychosis as recent health conditions. Immigration was similarly a breeze, and the agent stamped my passport whilst I studied the several buttons available to me at the counter which afforded me the opportunity to evaluate his service. I pushed, “Excellent,” which included a smiling face icon, and thanked him for his help. He smiled broadly.



On clearing Customs and Immigration, we moved to the exit to find Lily Li, our guide who would serve as our ambassador for the days to come. As we drove into Beijing, Lily and I discussed if we should use the afternoon to begin sightseeing, and I voted for immediate immersion. We headed for Temple of Heaven, built in 1420 CE during the Ming Dynasty and expanded under
the Qing Dynasties. Chinese emperors considered themselves “Sons of Heaven,” they built their own dwelling, “The Forbidden City” smaller than this dwelling for Heaven. Ming and Qing Emperors traveled each year from the Forbidden City to the Temple of Heaven on the winter solstice and in the first month of the lunar calendar to worship, offer sacrifices to heaven, and to pray for good harvests.

Small groups of Chinese sat around walls playing card games, singing, and chatting in the Long Corridor leading to the temple. Numerous souvenir hawkers approach us with Prada and Rolex knockoffs, postcards, and Chinese musical instruments. We would see in the days to come that these entrepreneurs would find us at every turn, and since at this point we were not fully immersed in the barter culture, we merely walked on. The first view of the Hall of Prayer took our collective breaths away, and our dozens of cameras made their appearance.

From ancient to new age, we headed next into Beijing, where in preparation for the Olympics, the city has undergone a complete facelift. The streets were clean, free of Los Angeles-style potholes and litter, and filled with new and beautiful cars. Unlike Southern India, where the women wear classic salwar kameez and sari, not a Mao suit was in sight, and I looked to no avail for the Mandarin collar, so popular in the United States. The Chinese dressed so Western in style, that I found myself a bit disorienting. I mused that perhaps the fact that they produce so much of the clothing we wear in the West, it was no stretch to imagine that with the loosening of the government’s restrictions on apparel, it only stood to reason that they could wear whatever they wished. New construction was everywhere, and the city took on a War of the Worlds-style appearance with its ubiquitous metal monsters situated at each turn. As we arrived at our lovely hotel with its vast marble floors and massive porcelain vases, I wondered just what would differentiate China today from any European city. It became my small mission to begin to create a Venn diagram of similarities and differences between China and the West. What would I come to discover about China’s place in the world today? How might it be relevant to us in the United States?


What would I learn about leadership in a global society? Would I be able to do what I was asking of my students, namely, to withhold judgment and allow the experiences of the days to come to wash over me? The hot shower prior to dinner that evening in a bathroom no different from any I have seen the world over, did indeed wash over me and permit the dust and the travel weariness to float mercifully away.