Two pictures
The air pollution in China has been something that has been constantly on our minds since we moved out of Shenzhen four years ago. Recently, the world has become more cognizant of it, particularly the poor air quality in Beijing since that is where many of the news organizations' China correspondents live. There are other cities in China that routinely have even worse air than Beijing, but the capital seems to have received the most attention in the press.
I often wonder how Beijing (and the other nine most-polluted cities) could get so terrible without anyone seeming to notice it until recently. Two pictures I took on Sunday minutes apart may in part explain the apparent lack of concern in the past.
More after the jump
First, a picture looking across a peaceful, new-to-us park just outside of Changping, Baifuquan Park. Sunday was our first time there. We had seen it on local maps before but could never figure out how to get there or if it were actually real. Stumbling our way into it, we realized it was an easy bike ride from our apartment. It was so empty that we saw more birds than people, something that rarely happens to us outside of the remotest parts of the countryside. Reaching this vantage point from where I snapped this photo, we could see out to the mountains northeast of Changping, including the ski slopes at Jundushan, and to the new Changping developing around the current terminus of the Changping Line.
The second picture I took only a few minutes later as we retraced our route to return home. This would take us back through a small village, Huazhuangcun, the main axis of which connects to our street. Before we reached the village, Myles asked me if the town had caught fire. Looking toward the hills behind the village, we could see a significant amount of smoke rising.
It was just after 5:00 p.m. Unlike the apartment complexes that have taken over most of Changping, this village still depended on coal (or wood) in the home for cooking and likely heating. At this time of the afternoon, suppers were cooking and the fires under kang were being stoked.
Within the hour, the US Embassy would only report an air quality in Beijing in the "Unhealthy for Sensitive Groups" range, meaning to us, not that bad. In the park, and back on our street, the air quality we experienced in Changping was maybe even a little better than that. But in Huazhuangcun, we choked our way through the smoky haze, something that seemed much worse than "Unhealthy for Sensitive Groups." It was so much better for us once we were out of the village.
Until very recently, more than half of the population of China lived in the rural areas. In Huazhuangcun, as well as so many other villages we have visited in the Beijing countryside, pollution like this smokiness is produced by the necessary operations of every day life. Is it possible, then, that the air pollution we deal with in urban Beijing may not seem such a big deal to those that grew up in the countryside, or the less developed neighborhoods in the cities?
I often wonder how Beijing (and the other nine most-polluted cities) could get so terrible without anyone seeming to notice it until recently. Two pictures I took on Sunday minutes apart may in part explain the apparent lack of concern in the past.
More after the jump
First, a picture looking across a peaceful, new-to-us park just outside of Changping, Baifuquan Park. Sunday was our first time there. We had seen it on local maps before but could never figure out how to get there or if it were actually real. Stumbling our way into it, we realized it was an easy bike ride from our apartment. It was so empty that we saw more birds than people, something that rarely happens to us outside of the remotest parts of the countryside. Reaching this vantage point from where I snapped this photo, we could see out to the mountains northeast of Changping, including the ski slopes at Jundushan, and to the new Changping developing around the current terminus of the Changping Line.
The second picture I took only a few minutes later as we retraced our route to return home. This would take us back through a small village, Huazhuangcun, the main axis of which connects to our street. Before we reached the village, Myles asked me if the town had caught fire. Looking toward the hills behind the village, we could see a significant amount of smoke rising.
It was just after 5:00 p.m. Unlike the apartment complexes that have taken over most of Changping, this village still depended on coal (or wood) in the home for cooking and likely heating. At this time of the afternoon, suppers were cooking and the fires under kang were being stoked.
Within the hour, the US Embassy would only report an air quality in Beijing in the "Unhealthy for Sensitive Groups" range, meaning to us, not that bad. In the park, and back on our street, the air quality we experienced in Changping was maybe even a little better than that. But in Huazhuangcun, we choked our way through the smoky haze, something that seemed much worse than "Unhealthy for Sensitive Groups." It was so much better for us once we were out of the village.
Until very recently, more than half of the population of China lived in the rural areas. In Huazhuangcun, as well as so many other villages we have visited in the Beijing countryside, pollution like this smokiness is produced by the necessary operations of every day life. Is it possible, then, that the air pollution we deal with in urban Beijing may not seem such a big deal to those that grew up in the countryside, or the less developed neighborhoods in the cities?
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