It is without doubt an overstated claim to call myself a prisoner but it was with some shock on Wednesday that I realised I had not left the apartment for four days and with the sun shining and work complete I was determined that day to escape my self imposed prison.
I had one more room to paint when Monday 15th of December rolled around; exploding into being with a beautiful dramatic sunrise and it took me another two days to finish the revamp of the apartment. I had promised myself that the work would be completed before Christmas and though I could have taken a little more time it was difficult to live in the apartment when there was chaos in one of the rooms which meant the quicker the better. I have never been known for my swiftness to complete tasks or indeed, accomplish anything; in fact in one role, working for a film location caterers, my nickname was ‘Swift’ in deference to my blindness to the pressure of time constraints and for working to my own beat, my own slow and steady pace. However, given the focus I can accomplish most things I set out to do and this task was no exception.
It was a surprise to some that I I was proficient in the DIY realm but I had been decorating since a youth; painting the living room of our family home and applying some interesting design to my teenage bedroom in the same Harrogate home. There was a penchant in the seventies for ceiling tiles and I adopted a black and white chess board theme to them and to the walls. Virtually every place I have lived I have painted and I once even worked for a decorator on his own home and on another job which caused him some trouble. The challenge of a Beijing apartment was no different and with total commitment I dedicated my time to painting. By Tuesday evening I had finished and proudly sat back and surveyed my work.
It felt strange not to have left the confines of the apartment for 4 days and I chose a gentle occupation for my foray into the wide world of a trip to the cinema. I cycled to Qianmen in blazing sunshine but very cold temperatures to see ‘The Last Dance’ a magnificent meditation on family, age and death. One of the best films I have seen all year. It was a glorious day and I walked back through the Hutongs feeling every moment of the glorious Ming Dynasty alleys.
The approach of Dong Zhi Festival on the 21st, the winter solstice and the twenty second event of the 24 Chinese solar terms, elicited an invite from Peng’s parents for lunch. Indulging in the culinary skills of ‘Mama’s’ home cooking was always a delight and it was no exception on Friday to enjoy the Mapu tofu, Xiang Guo, tomato and egg, a delicious tofu soup and the obligatory celebratory Jiaozi. It seems to be a traditionally important festival and is still observed by many Chinese people though its origins date back to 1045 BCE and are linked to the yin and yang philosophy of balance and harmony when it is believed that the days following will have longer daylight hours and therefore create an increase in positive energy flowing in. It is also typically associated with agricultural activities in China, particularly in rural areas. In practice it is regarded as a day to celebrate with family and to honour the ancestors, by burning incense and eating Jiaozi in the north and Tangyuan in the south.
When Saturday the 21st arrived, the official Dong Zhi, we began the day with both Jiaozi and glutinous rice balls as they supposedly represent reunion. There is a superstition that for an auspicous year one should be left over but greed won out and the plate was left bare. I had ordered a vegan Christmas meal for lunch on the 25th and that arrived from Shanghai.After that, I was happy to spend the remainder of the day, in fact weekend, in relaxation and once again found myself imprisoned indoors, protected from the winter chill that was lurking in the outside world.
