Greetings, loved ones. Recently, I had to take a journey (not to California), but into the depths of the traffic disaster that is Beijing’s city center. I was so inspired after reading Kathleen Ma’s article in a previous issue of UNIT-E that I decided to take the 北京地铁 (Beijing subway) to my meeting. Not only did I avoid jams in between ring roads and reduced my carbon footprint, but I came back with interesting stories and became an even more seasoned 北京人 (Beijinger).

17.30 – In the midst of the pouring rain, enlist the help of a black cab driver, “我的好朋友” (“my good friend”), to get to the Beijing Exhibition Center subway station.

17.38 – Get ripped off by 我的好朋友, but decided not to quibble. It’s raining, and that RMB 5 counts as my good deed of the day.

17.42 – Buy a stored value card for RMB 20 and add credit to it. The price of a single trip stays the same at RMB 2 for any distance. The only real benefit of this card is its convenience. It makes my wallet look a lot fuller and I like a beijingren.

17.45 – Swipe my 地铁卡 (subway pass) – Wah! 我真的是北京人! (“I really am a Beijinger!”) – and rush through the turnstiles to catch the train.

17.46 – Reach the top of the elevator just in time to see the tail end of my train disappear into the distance. FML.

17.47 – Consult the LCDs above the doors: 12 minutes until the next train arrives. It’s the price Shunyi-ers like myself pay for living in the suburbs.

17.49 – Stalk around the waiting platform and mumble rude things about how warning needs to be given before a train leaves – I could have caught that train!

17.53 – Get bitten by mosquitoes. On the bright side, I have tangible reminders of this experience.

17.55 – Start (attempt at) catching mosquitoes by snatching them as they fly by. It doesn’t quite work, but I persevere.

17.57 – Attract weird looks from strangers, since I am grabbing at seemingly thin air and cursing in strange tongues. Move away from spectators and wait for train.

17.59 – Train arrives. Avoid above-mentioned spectators on the train to prevent the next six stops from being incredibly awkward.

18.04 – Realize that my old nemesis, the mosquito, has followed me. We duel.

18.15 – Admit defeat. The mosquito is quite the ninja.

18.20 – Arrive at Wangjing station. Nearly get off (OK, do get off), and jump back on when I realize there are two Wangjing stations and this isn’t the interchange point.

18.23 – Arrive at Wangjing  West interchange station. Try not to look like a “noob” and follow the crowd.

18.29 – SO MANY STAIRS.

18.34 – EVEN MORE STAIRS.

18.38 – NO MORE STAIRS. (There are actually only three flights of stairs. Stairs are recommended not only for wellness reasons, but also to avoid deadlock on the crowded escalators.)

18.40 – Dongzhimen or Xizhimen? Consult subway map. Dongzhimen. Who knew that one word could change the whole direction of travel?

18.45 – Attempt to find the Dongzhimen line. Get completely lost in the process, as the station has limited signboards and elusive stairways.

18.53 – Start to wonder if it would have been easier to just leave the station and walk to Solana. In the rain.

18.56 – Text everyone and inform them I’m going to be late. Cause of tardiness? Passenger traffic. I wouldn’t be able to face them if they knew the truth.

18.59 – Finally get onboard my final train. It’s all smooth sailing from here on out. I emerge from the station with the sense of pride that only comes from just having completed a rite of passage to renew my status as a Beijingren.

This article originally appeared in the April 2012 issue of UNIT-E. It was written by Heather Budimilia, a student at The International School of Beijing.

About UNIT-E
UNIT-E was founded in the spring of 2010 with the aim of establishing a non-profit, student-run magazine for international students in Beijing. Staffed by current students from a range of international schools, the magazine provides an amalgam of cultural tidbits, fragments of Beijing student life, and a broad spectrum of unique perspectives from a diverse group of young adults.

A brief, but alarming notice on The Global Times warned against thieves on the subway. The pickpockets target young women listening to music and usually operate on platforms or escalators on Line 1. The brief caught my attention because I fit the target victims’ description to a tee, but anyone is at risk. Now that the holidays are in full swing, it may be time to take a refresher course on Anti-Thievery 101.

The following advice is drawn from an article called “How Pickpockets Work” by edutainment website HowStuffWorks and my very own Chinese-born mom (a fastidious traveler who reads way too many sensationalistic news stories for her own good):

• Don’t assume. Not all thieves are cunning Dickensian creatures with ragged clothing and sharp tongues. Some dress like successful businesspeople or carry a baby to dispel suspicion; others even imitate tourists, their preferred “marks,” or targets.
• Don’t look like a target. Thieves look for people who appear lost, confused, or distracted. Most pickpockets want to avoid confrontation, so they tend to pass over people who are sure of themselves and aware of their surroundings.
• Make it as inconvenient as possible for thieves to rob you. That means not putting your wallet in your back pocket or the outer pocket of your purse. If you have a backpack, turn it around and wear it in front of you in crowded situations. If you carry a purse, hold it under your arm and cover it with your hand.
• Learn to recognize dicey situations. Though pickpockets seem to come up with more and more inventive ways of robbing unsuspecting commuters, there are some common setups you can learn to spot. Some thieves work in teams to distract the mark. One person may “accidentally” drop something, while another steals from the good Samaritan who stops to help. Two members of a team might stage a fight, while the third robs fascinated onlookers. On the bus, try not to stand near people with a long coat draped over one arm; thieves have been known to take advantage of sharp turns to press into their intended victims, using the coat as a cover.
• Keep a list of everything in your wallet. If you do get robbed, at least it’ll help you figure out what you need to replace. By the same token, only put what’s necessary in your wallet. That Costco membership card? Probably won’t do you much good in Beijing anyway.
• Spread out your belongings. That means putting money, credit cards, and identification in a few different places; you’ll be less likely to lose it all at the same time. A thief once slit open the bottom of my aunt’s purse and made off with her wallet, but she had enough money stashed away in her inner jacket pocket to catch a cab home. 

On a related topic, China Whisper just published a list of 17 secret codes used by break-in artists in Chengdu, Sichuan Province. These symbols are usually drawn in an inconspicuous place, like trees or outer walls, to relay features about a specific household. For example, a horizontal zigzag means there’s a guard dog and a cluster of coins means it’s a rich household. Though the marks were discovered in Chengdu, they’re a chilling reminder of just how much we may be taking our family’s safety for granted.

Do you have any tips on safeguarding against thieves? Let us know in the forum.