Beijing

It was my first time in Beijing. I exited the plane and walked through the airport lobby. Within a few steps, a very attractive woman walked in front of me carrying a bottle of designer water. She turned her head as she passed, looked me right in the eyes and smiled the warmest, most friendly smile I had seen in weeks. I was momentarily stunned. Before I could turn to see where she went, she disappeared into the crowd. 

A few steps further on, an exceptionally handsome man with an unmistakable aura of adventure walked by.  He was speaking on his cell phone; on his wrist was an impressive designer watch. As he passed, he glanced up, looked me right in the eyes and gave me a knowing nod - as if I were one of his type.

Although this was my first time in the Beijing airport, I was quite certain that nowhere in the world were people who were this friendly to anonymous strangers.  Something strange was going on, but I could not focus on my unease. There were too many small, but attention-grabbing distractions. A five-year-old boy with shiny black shoes, shorts, and a hat walked by, holding the leash to an enormous St. Bernard. A man and woman were arguing; she turned her back to him and cried while he stood helpless and confused. 

It felt as if I were walking through movie sets from fifty years earlier.

As I passed a small restaurant, a woman was sitting at a table eating a delicious looking meal. She looked up from her food, looked me right in the eyes, and an unmistakable twinkle passed between us. At that moment, however, a crowd of people surged by between us. By the time they passed, she was grabbing her luggage and hurrying off with a look of urgency. She glanced back at me, smiled apologetically, and disappeared into the crowd in seconds.

 “Hey Odysseus!” a man with thick-set glasses exclaimed as he clapped his hand on my back. “You like all the friendly people here in Beijing? And all the exotic animals? Yeah? A lot of distractions, no?”

“I’m sorry, my name is not…”
“Odysseus – like in Homer,” he interrupts. “The Odyssey, you know, the guy who wanted to see the Sirens. You are walking around in here with no glasses, like you want to see them, but I think you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what? I’m sorry, I’m confused… If you are trying to sell me something? If so, I’m not interested.”

“They’re all sirens, my friend. Don’t look at them! Don’t listen to their sweet songs! They will dash you on the rocks. They only want your money. What you need is a pair of my glasses.”

“Glasses? No, thank you. I’m wearing contacts.”

He handed me a pair of glasses very similar to the ones he was wearing. “No, these are different. Put these on and look that lady over there with the tiger cubs.” He waited for me to put them on. “Now look at me.  What do you see?”

“Nothing. Oh, wait – you’re glowing.”

“That’s right. And she’s not. The tigers aren't. Real people glow, but the sirens look cold. That’s how you know they’re not real – if they don’t glow.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about. They’re not holograms. My contacts are polarized. I could tell if they were holograms. Polarized lenses make holograms look fake.”

“Not these. They are analog projections. Polarizing only works with the digital projections.”

“Analog projections, wow. So how do these glasses work?” I asked.

“They enhance the infrared spectrum. They’re not full infrared, night-vision type glasses. They add just enough glow to allow you to tell the warm bodies from the fakes.”

“These are just here in the airport?” I asked.

“No – they’re all over Beijing – wherever there buildings and shadows,” he replied. “100 yen and these are yours.  Cash, of course.”