I visited Beijing in 2007, a year prior to the Olympics, and then again last week. The transformation of this gigantic city is clearly impressive. This is the capital of the world’s most populated nation so its scale will naturally be vast. But like the outward demeanour of the Chinese people themselves, there is little flashiness or showing off. The mammoth Olympic Stadium (the Bird’s Nest) looks abandoned and forlorn but the Forbidden City is back to its former glory (it was under renovation in 2007), exactly as one saw it in The Last Emperor.

Outside the walled Forbidden City complex of buildings is Tiennamen Square flanked by the Great House of the People. As the Chinese Parliament is currently in session, the roof of the massive building is profusely lined with hundreds of red flags fluttering in the strong wind. For the same reason, the Memorial of Mao Zedong is temporarily closed to public access and the vast Tiannamen Square itself is under intense police surveillance. The Chinese are wary about any event in the Square ever since one million people gathered there in 1989 and some of the demonstrators lost their lives. You can still enter the Square but only after going through the usual scanners. As it has snowed in the city the previous evening, wandering around the Square is distinctly uncomfortable because of the harsh wind. The fact that I am dressed warm enough to climb Mount Everest makes no difference. My tourism foray does not last more than 20 minutes before I am rushing back to the warmth of my hotel.

Buying tea

Since the lady back home is now a green tea addict, I pop into a small shop that sells everything connected with tea including teapots, tea-trays (made of clay), porcelain tea sets, tea mugs and of course varieties of teas. Unlike tea buying back home, the Chinese will not allow you to get away without a small ritual. The tea must be tasted before you buy it. After you have indicated your preferences, you are asked to sit while the kettle boils on a stove. The hot water is then sloshed over the leaf and you get to sample as much as is brewed in small delicate porcelain cups. Dragons are to be found lurking on every tea instrument including the kettles.

I can say with some confidence that I have discovered the reason for the routine. While the water is brewing, the mind wanders over the other clutter in the shop. Eventually you find yourself buying more than just the half kilo of jasmine tea that first drew your attention. You end up, like I did, with a quaint tea strainer made from pumpkin, a six-cup China tea set with kettle, a large porcelain tea mug with an in-built porcelain strainer and cap, and a set of sampling cups, in addition to the jasmine tea.

Litter and taxi drivers

Coming to Beijing all the way from Goa – which has now become a garbage slut – I am shocked to discover the total absence of litter, of plastic, or papers or empty bottles. Beijing is today undoubtedly the cleanest city in the world, superior to even Amsterdam or Singapore where you can surprisingly nowadays find unattended trash and litter. The tourist places including the Forbidden City or the Temple of Heaven have dozens of litter collectors who snap up anything the tourist may dump. But in the non-tourist parts of the city, the local population has simply forgotten the art of littering.

My Chinese friends tells me this is the result of years of self-indoctrination, education and training, predating even the Cultural Revolution days. Small places in India – Goa again comes to mind – are unable to keep themselves free of garbage and litter. This is a city of 17 million and the stainlessness is simply stunning, achieved without the stiff fines of Singapore or the endless messages on boards or hoardings in India unsuccessfully exhorting people to keep their city clean.

Beijing taxi drivers are another breath of fresh air. After a taxi has me dropped off at a destination in the city, I think I understand the owner’s sign language and give him 40 yuan for the trip. He returns half the money! This is Beijing in 2010. Garbage and taxi drivers: China is clearly far ahead. Forget steel production which was 500 million tons to India’s 30 at last count.

Where else do we differ?

The city still does not speak English. The bell boy at my hotel spends a few minutes with me practising his English. Since I am visiting the university he thinks I am a professor of sorts. I humour him for some time, but I can envision huge employment possibilities for retired English teachers from India. The Chinese believe Indians speak good English and are willing to be tutored by them in contrast to Americans (who are too aggressive in manners, speak too fast and are mostly unintelligible).

The moment you speak to waiters in English in Chinese restaurants they immediately lose their confidence and back off. This has happened to me time and again. The first waiter who arrives at your table will retreat on hearing a customer speaking English and will disappear to find another colleague to take the order. The replacement will also retreat on the same grounds till someone (higher up in the hierarchy) arrives who has the confidence to stand and take orders even if it is still a slow process, edged along with plenty of sign language and pointing at pictures of desired dishes on menu cards. Despite the illustrated menus, ordering with the assistance of Chinese friends is still the only guarantee to a completely satisfactory meal. I have tried sometimes ordering on my own and been dismayed at what the cat brought in.

On thing is clear. Nowhere did I find any sign of our favourite Indian Chinese dish, “gobi Manchurian.” On my return to India I am now wholly disinclined to visit Chinese restaurants. I think I’ve been cheated all my life.

Where are we similar?

At the end of a marvellous Chinese meal, the chief waiter brings a bill. He bends over to whisper and tell our host that this is a draft bill. It takes some time to understand what the problem is. Our host simply laughs and explains to us that the restaurant is saying it can inflate the bill so that we can claim more, if possible, from our sponsors. That’s when I discover that countries do learn things from their neighbours even if they are not always the best of friends.