The sky was gray, and the sea was even grayer. I was feeling gray.
More than two years of walking through China was coming to end. There were oldies lounging on the new harbor boardwalk, and the music they sang was the peppy variety from their younger times, from another age, the faking-it-true-believer days in the twilight of the revolution—before the reforms, before the big opening—when almost everyone must have known the game was up. It was hard to believe anyone could be as innocent and sentimental as the songs suggested. But I guess some people were. Somehow, it cracked the heart.
With walking partners and friends Frank Geng and family, Chen Lu, Xie Zhisheng, Yolanda Wang, and Yu Huang.