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Beijing’s Subway Line 10, slated to open in June 2008, looks at first to be an arc line — the only arc line of its type when it opens. Having just been spoilt by a glitzy new Line 5 in October 2007, Beijingers are probably too deep into deciphering the new Mozart Line (as your Beijingologist calls it after the opening ceremony was accompanied by Mozart at every station) to note that three new lines — Lines 8 and 10, as well as the Airport Express — will be reality in just less than two months’ time. (As I always say — “please get ready for your arrival!”)

Click the image for a bigger map.

Line 10, at first, looks to be this odd arc running from northwestern urban Beijing through to the CBD. It looks a bit half-done, to be honest; it’s either an amalgamation of two lines or half a loop. But don’t let that throw you off: Line 10, when it opens, will be absolutely crucial to the Chinese capital. You’ll find yourself taking the new line more often than you think.

Don’t believe me? Hop along for a quick test drive.

What Line 10 Means To Beijing

Line 10 doesn’t exactly travel through new territory at first glance. Subway services already serve the southeastern part of the Zhongguancun region, as well as Shaoyaoju (a residential quarter not far from the University of International Business and Economics), and there’s a subway line underneath Chang’an Avenue. At first, there’s not that much excitement.

But wait — Line 10’s there for a reason. To get from the CBD to Zhongguancun right now, it’s a ride on three lines. With Line 10, you’ll just need to hop in from Guomao station and stay on the train until Zhongguancun, exiting at Haidian Huangzhuang station for Zhongguancun Avenue — that “big street” through China’s Silicon Valley (as they call it).

Line 10 doesn’t just add new spots served by the subway (much of the eastern 3rd Ring Road, as well as northern urban Beijing), it actually does a great job of joining existing lines and adding in a host of shortcuts and transfer stations. No doubt about it: once you’re on Line 10, you’ll wonder how the heck you made it through x-million transfer stations before the new line.

Who’ll Use Line 10 The Most

So who’ll use Line 10 the most? Off the top of our heads, we can think of quite a number of people…

• Line 10 will be big with commuters in the CBD, thanks to its unique geographical location — right underneath the eastern 3rd Ring Road and at the heart of the Guomao region.

• Line 10 will also be big with people headed to Zhongguancun. Up till now, they had to — in essence — “make do” with more-than-mediocre stops at Zhichunlu or Wudaokou — which is in the eastern part of Zhongguancun, away from the high-tech malls.

• Finally, Line 10 will be big with Olympians. This line links directly to Line 8, also known as the Olympic Branch Line. You’ll see a lot of Olympians headed on Line 10 come August 2008.

Good Connections

When Line 10 opens in June 2008, the new subway line will already link to 5 existing (or new!) lines: Lines 1, 5, 8, 13 (twice) and the Airport Express. When Line 4 (going through the heart of Zhongguancun) is reality by late 2009, we’ll have Line 10 linking up to 6 lines.

And the good thing is that two stations have already been built as “instant transfer” stations, where there’s, in essence, no need to walk into a super-long passageway (if you’ve ever changed from Line 1 to Line 2 at Fuxingmen station in central Beijing, you know what we mean!) If you’re transferring to Line 5 at Huixinxijie Nankou station, or if you’ll be headed to Line 4 at Haidian Huangzhuang station beginning autumn 2009, you’ll benefit from those “instant transfer” stations.

Other stations are quite a walk if you’re going from one line to the other — but they’ll be shorter than the average Swiss dog walk, with the longest transfer passageway — the one at Guomao between Lines 1 and 10 — no longer than 70 meters. Those of you with sprinty, long legs (like yours truly) will most likely be able to finish the walk in about a minute.

Due to the rather odd way the Beijing Subway network is laid out, Line 10 will miss transfers with Line 2 and the Batong Line. You’ll have to transfer via Lines 1, 5 or 13 to reach Line 2, and a quick trip on Line 1 at Guomao (heading east) is required before you’re on the Batong Line bound for eastern suburban Beijing.

Core Areas of Note — 1: Guomao and CBD

Line 10 starts very close to the Beijing CBD — its third stop from the present southernmost terminus, Jinsong, is smack in the center of the CBD, at Guomao. Unlike Line 1, which runs across the CBD in a west-east manner, Line 10 does the job north-south, delving deeper into the heartland of the CBD.

When it opens in June, there will be — for the first time — a subway station south of Guomao Bridge. (Presently, all exits are to the north of the mega-overpass.) This could come in hand for those who work at the Motorola Tower, or the China Merchants Tower, as all of these are to the southeast.

Line 10 will also link up (as previously mentioned) with Line 1 at Guomao. Due to the challenging conditions that made up the Line 10 bit of Guomao station, however, it’ll be quite a walk — about 70 meters. The technical details behind this: they had to dodge the hidden “poles” that were put in place when Guomao and Dabeiyao bridges were built. For the average guy on the street (or in the Subway), it amounted to as something as straightforward (or as difficult) as sticking in an extra Subway station without upsetting the existing Line 1 station or two bridges above ground. Not an easy task!

When the core part of the CBD opens (with Taiwan Center as the new centerpiece) after the Games, there will be direct links into the new buildings from the Line 10 part of the station, a bit like the direct link from the Line 1 bit into the China World Trade Center complex.

Core Areas of Note — 2: Eastern 3rd Ring Road, Hotel Area

Hotels and the eastern part of the 3rd Ring Road are in some kind of love affair. The Jinxin Hotel and the Kempinski up north near Liangmaqiao (near the Sanlitun embassy area), of course, starts the whole eastern part of the ring road off in Hotel Mode, and this is continue further south by the Kunlun Hotel and the Great Wall Sheraton. Hotels take a break at the National Agricultural Exhibition Center, but continue with the Zhaolong Hotel just minutes away from Sanlitun and the Bar Street. Further south are glitzier hotels a la the Jingguang Centre (one of those super-tall hotels), and — of course — the cluster around Guomao.

The eastern part of Line 10 as it stands, then, will probably be full of expats and incoming laowais (”me no like that term”… as I say…). Out-squashing them, however, will most likely be the local citizenry, especially around Guomao, as the eastern part of Line 10 is also home to what must be a million offices. Offices are particularly concentrated around the Sanyuan Bridge area (where the 3rd Ring Road meets the Airport Freeway) and the Guomao area (where the beltway runs through the heart of Beijing’s CBD).

Line 10 has two stops in the heart of the CBD — Jintaixizhao, which will also connect to the CCTV tower (a Rem Koolhaas creation), and Guomao further south. The CBD is also well served by Yong’anli and Dawanglu stations on Line 1.

Core Areas of Note — 3: Olympic Green

Line 10 just misses the Olympic Green, situated north of Beitucheng Crossing in northern urban Beijing (along the north-south axis), but it conveniently links to Line 8 at the Beitucheng transfer station.

The Olympic Green, then, is served until around 2011 by what is often termed the Olympic Branch Line of Line 10, which, in essence, is actually Line 8. This bit of the subway, however, will continue after 2008: the Olympic Village, in fact, has been sold out to the citizens (the average people in the street), thereby “recycling” the very village!

Further plans tell of the construction of commercial towers along the northern bit of the Olympic Green, just north of the National Convention Center (which is where the media will be situated during Summer Olympics). In “just a bit”, time-wise, we can expect the area around the Bird’s Nest to be a new commercial district. By now, you’re forced to concede that the guys who designed the Olympic extension were thinking for the long term — beyond the Olympics!

Core Areas of Note — 4: Zhongguancun

Heading further counterclockwise (or west), Line 10 finally ends up in the Zhongguancun area. Zhichunlu is the first stop in the region, as Line 10 links with Line 13, which runs close to the eastern Zhongguancun artery — Zhongguancun East Road. A stop further west, in Zhichunli, is more residential than high-tech, but the icing on the cake is Haidian Huangzhuang station.

The saying goes that “the best is yet to come”, and for Haidian Huangzhuang and for Zhongguancun as a whole, this is certainly the case. When Line 4 of the Beijing Subway opens in late September 2009, this very station will become a transfer station with Line 4. Line 4 is that bit more special — and more Zhongguancun, so to speak — because it runs right underneath Zhongguancun Avenue, past the heart of the tech hub, and even outside of the east gate of Peking University!

Next week, we’ll continue and finish our look at Line 10, by going into a few Line 10 stations. Stay tuned!

First of all, excuse the gap — as in the gap, day-wise. Thursday evening looked like terminal illness for yours truly after a massive day’s all-in-ones: guiding people around the Planning Exhibition Hall, rectifying the Chinglish, hosting radio shows and translating files.

Onwards. Beijing is redoing quite a bit of those traffic signs. Yet in all of this sign mania, there’s a gap — between well-done signs and signs that looked like people were rushing through them. These signs are either hunong (糊弄) — as in badly done — or zixi (仔细) — as in Swiss-ish precisionism.

Why am I going into Chinese road signs for a start? Well, for a start (hate to use the same words time and again, but oh well), I’ve bumped into enough “things” (so to speak) in and around China (and in the wider world outside the PRC, too) that looked like they were — well, done with nary a second thought. At the other end of the spectrum, I’ve spotted true masterpieces that are more than deserving of coverage on the cover page (pardon the pun) of your newsmagazine — they’re that good.

Take a look, for example, at your average science book. Mom and dad left quite a bit of their science books with me at my big house in the eastern suburbs, and as a result, I’ve gotten around to browsing through them. The bit I love is how they describe things — as in things as “nice” “harmonious” as the different between cirrus and nimbus clouds — as well as less “harmonious” topics such as how nuclear bombs are being made. They describe it all in “people language” — the average guy in the street is able to pick the book up, read through it, and make sense of the whole thing. Books written in the Mao era are very much zixi things — they’re a pleasure to read because the lady or gent who wrote the book gave a something about the quality of the book. Nice pics make it like that icing on the cake.

Contrast that with hunong, which is — of course — something that looks like someone made in a hurry. Time is money, by the way (I think Marx said that first? Don’t quote me on that…), so some of us folks in China finish something that obviously looks that bit more “half-baked”. Whether that be traffic signs or Chinglish-laden announcement signs, it’s more than obvious: somebody wanted to do this quick. Maybe to get paid — quick.

My trips today through Beijing’s Subway system (sorry, I don’t have a second hobby for the moment) saw me take two snaps of the subway system. One hunong as heck and one zixi — oh heavens, platform art. I love that.

Let’s do the hunong bit. Somebody wanted to remove those signs up above the platforms. Unfortunately, the third rail’s only out of action from midnight till about 5 AM at the “latest” (”earliest” for the rest of us), so the only time some could afford to pull this stunt off (the stunt of removing signage located in the track area without risking electrocution) would be during these five hours. Sadder still, someone decided to take only bits and pieces of the signage off. Did the guy do this between his late night breaks with — we’re guessing here — Chinese chess and mantou (bread)? The result –

– kinda showed him pulling off a multitasking stunt poorly: only half the signage got removed, and that — in a very “half and half” manner. Not good.

One station up on Line 2, though, and we see those fantastic murals or wall art / platform art. Someone obviously took his or her time, did the artwork really well, and took pride in his or her work when the whole thing was assembled and complete.

In particular to Swiss people, I’d say, we are big fans of zixi people. We have plenty of those people on the ground here in Beijing. Unfortunately, we also seem to have a steady supply of hunongers.

It’s time to dump hunong and embrace zixi. China’s rising, and we want to see perfection rise as well.

Everything seems cool when it starts to rain. But when it rains nonstop for 24 hours, things get a bit different.

Here’s a look at our nation’s capital in rain. It sure is refreshing, but remember this has gone a bit too far. Beijing was soaked in rain for 24 hours straight (and counting), with rainstorm-level downpours in the suburbs away from the city center.

The rain seemed pretty refreshing, indeed, but it also wrecked havoc for the traffic. Travel delays were common as taxis, full of people in them, were all the rage. You had to get moving without being soaked, and being on four motorized wheels was the only way out. Traffic jams, once again, were not out of the ordinary.

The Beijing Subway, too, was hit, although this time, it wasn’t a case of soaked-in trouble; nope, it was more a technical glitch. Line 2’s new control center was a bit too new (they shifted control of the inner loop line to a new centralized facility), so tech glitches held up clockwise traffic on Line 2. It, in fact, started right when yours truly hopped into Hepingmen subway station, taking a train further west (clockwise) to Xuanwumen and points beyond. (We’re talking about the part of Beijing that’s just south of Chang’an Avenue!)

11:04. The train rolled in Hepingmen station. The doors opened — and stayed open. About 4 to 5 minutes later, a counterclockwise train rolled in. Doors opened. Three sharp beeps. Doors closed. Train drives off. Our train: “mouth” (door) still wide open.

It took about another 4 to 5 minutes for the second counterclockwise train to roll in. This time, I made up my mind. I switched on over immediately to the train going the wrong way around — changing, in the process, my plans for lunch so that I’d do pizza instead of Yoshinoya veggie rice bowls.

The chaos went on for a full 30 minutes on the clockwise part of Line 2. Thank heavens I escaped onto Line 5, where I got my pizza.

And that was the thing. When I went out of the pizza restaurant (after being stuffed chock-full of delicious pizza), the rain stopped. Out went an instant tweet. The rain stopped.

The rain. Yes, indeed. Not just “natural” rain. “Artificial” rain, too. In a city where the whole of the winter was nearly all dry, this bit of precipitation was more than welcome.

If you’ve been watching the officialspeak lately, the word 华人 (hua ren), which means — quite simply — “Chinese” — has been floating around more often than nationality-related terms, such as “PRC citizen”. Those who are joining the “Heart China” MSN movement are no longer “just” citizens of the People’s Republic — they included Chinese of foreign nationalities, which would include yours truly — a Swiss citizen of Chinese descent. The unifying factor here is more related to blood and ethnic ties than it does with what kind of passport you have.

There is this term that has been floating around for some time — it’s a term that makes folks who are Chinese by descent but of foreign nationalities feel both “at home” and at the same time “alienated”. It’s the term 外籍华人 (wai ji hua ren), or “Chinese with foreign nationalities (citizenships)”. The “at home” bit is the 华人 (huaren) bit, which means “Chinese” (quite literally). The bit of “alienation” is the 外籍 (waiji) bit, which implies that you do not have Chinese citizenship (ie legal citizenship).

Most Chinese with foreign citizenships are World-friendly. Born in an international environment, they appreciate the best of both cultures — Chinese and Western (or Chinese and plain-vanilla “foreign”). Their eyes on the World are wider than the average 5 minute “world news” bit on Chinese TV (to make an understatement). It seems, then, that the term is “good”.

Except for the fact that it has the 外籍 (waiji) part. This bit is alienating. You feel ever so close to China, yet the fact that you don’t have their citizenship is a real bummer. PRC law bans dual nationalities, so if you want to be Chinese by law, you have to stop being Swiss (or American). And Chinese passports don’t grant you visa-free access to the US, Europe or even Taiwan, so…

But what if you’re Chinese by ethnicity and have a more World-oriented outlook? Here’s where I drop in a new term, 国际华人 (guoji huaren), which simply means “international Chinese”. This term is a good one, because it shows that the Chinese are World-oriented as in they care about what happens beyond their national frontiers. In this day and age, there’s the need to know what’s going on in Beijing, Bangkok and Berlin.

The 国际华人 (guoji huaren) bit also reflects well on the Chinese as a whole, as it shows that the Chinese are more “international” (the 国际 (guoji) bit stands out really well) and hence gives you this feeling that they’re more active on the World stage. It showcases their might and the fact that they’re ready to embrace the World. They can talk with folks around the planet. They can communicate with folks around the World. And yes, you can use this term regardless of nationality, as long as you have Chinese blood or are Chinese by ethnicity, and you’ve lived around the World. It includes both 华侨 (hua qiao; overseas Chinese) and the 外籍华人 (Chinese with foreign nationalities).

The International Chinese is part of this great family people — people, purely people at that — people who are just as equal as the guy or gal next to you. They are all individuals on the planet. They are free to, and in fact, should, mix and mingle with folks of different cultures and nationalities. If you’ve heard of the word “World Citizen”, you can count the International Chinese in as a World Citizen. The only “bit” that they have that makes them a tad different is their heritage. Theoretically (and legally) speaking, though, they are — when all is said and done — just another human being on the surface of the Earth, when it comes right down to the fundamentals.

The International Chinese should be open to different cultures and ways of thinking, while at the same time preserving — and yes, bravely reforming (when needed) their own culture. The bits and pieces that make Chinese culture — well, Chinese culture — should be kept intact. At the same time, they should be free to use “this and that” from all other cultures. This is, after all, what’s supposed to constitute a World Citizen.

The International Chinese can be anyone: theoretically speaking, the average farmer with access to the Internet, who sells his produce to buyers overseas can be considered an “International Chinese” because he interacts with the rest of the globe. The taxi driver who reads the news every day and takes a keen interest on what happens outside the PRC is also a good candidate for an “International Chinese”. If a formula was to be formulated, it’d look something like this: Chinese by descent + frequent ties to the World = International Chinese. (But then again, this is no strict formula.) And for those who are more “domestic” (as in they’ve never travelled outside the country and have only limited knowledge of the outside World), they’ve an equal opportunity to become an International Chinese by getting to know the outside World more and more. Theoretically, every student that goes through the 9-year minimum education has the knowledge to become an International Chinese. It’s just how deeply they’re involved with the rest of the planet that distinguishes this guy from the guy sitting next to him.

I’m tossing the word 国际华人 into the lexicon while relinquishing any rights. Go ahead, use it. It’s “my bit” for the rest of us.

To many a Westerner (especially to this Swiss-Chinese), one Chinese characteristic that we may have some trouble getting over is this characteristic known as qianxu (谦虚), or the art of being humble. You can be special, knowing 10 languages, heading up 2 communities, and knowing all Beijing Subway exits off by heart — heck, you might even be the only guy in the loop who knows that the closest thing to Clapham Common station on the Tube is Zhichunli station on the up-and-coming Line 10 — but you’re supposed to keep that all to yourselves!

Or nearly, that is. Being special is OK in China. It’s the way you express it. Let’s say that yours truly started out a conversation by saying: “My name is David Feng, I’m the President of this and that user group, I know all Subway stations off by heart, I know how to say “hi” in Rhaeto-Rumansh, and when my friend from the Netherlands was talking on the phone in Dutch, I knew what she was on about.” And you’ve only begun.

In the West, you’d be considered a living miracle. In China, though, you’d have come close to — or even have already — crossed the fine line that is qianxu.

In China, the moment you’re praised, you’re instead supposed to go, “Oh, my Latin isn’t that good” or “Now you’ve made my face red!”. The following sample conversation shows how someone who knows Qianxu 101 would respond:

Chinese 1: “Let me introduce John to you, who’s from the US. John knows 5 languages, and has been President of Chamber of Commerce…”
Chinese 2: “Oh my God! You are so brilliant…”
John: “Na li na li” (哪里哪里 — litearlly meaning “where, where”)
Chinese 1: “…and is a whiz kid on the piano. He knows Mozart off by heart…”
Chinese 2: “…you are a genius!”
John: Nah, actually I’m not that good on the piano…

Our fictional John would have handled that qianxu bit very well. The “na li na li” bit, by the way, has no real meaning, but is often used to “smooth” or to “dampen” the talk and is absolutely crucial to many a conversation where you’ve got to be qianxu.

Cut to the chase, being qianxu means that you consider yourself “inferior” (although not really) even if you do happen to know, say, 10 languages. This way, you’re seen as not all that “big”, and this, in fact, makes you more approachable.

So is qianxu good or bad? In fact, qianxu is good as it kind of puts you on a “lower” or more “equal” playing field. However, another school of thought is of the opinion that qianxu is not “实事求是” (shi shi qiu shi, which comes close to meaning “realistic”) enough, and says that the western “Thank you” is actually more preferred over “na li na li”.

For yours truly, this very qianxu thing is often a stumbling stone. In 2002, he was taken to task on a Mac forum in China (which shall remain anonymous) after he was too “visible” as the President of the Beijing Macintosh User Group, where he was, in essence, “brainwashed” into being humble. (His Mac group got nowhere, in fact, until he was qianxu-ized.) Encounters in 2007, however, would see David qianxu even in front of expats.

He now manages it both ways — first by being qianxu and then falling back on the refrain “Thank you”, with the added qianxu if needed. He admits it’s still a potential tripping stone, but — he’s getting places…

You are familiar with Subway Line 10, are you? It’s one of those new subway lines opening in about two months here in Beijing, and when it’s reality, you’ll be able to zip from Zhongguancun to the CBD in about half an hour. Eternally consigned to the history books will be those intolerable waits on the eastern 3rd Ring Road and bus rides that seem to take forever and a day.

I’d like to take a look at Line 10 today from an architectural point of view, or rather, point de vue. (Excuse my Français.) The average Line 10 station looks like one of these fellows below:

The Beijing Subway seems to be in box mode these days. Ever since the Mozart Line, or Subway Line 5, became reality in early October 2007, we seem to be in the Box Era, subway station design-wise. Boxes inside the 2nd Ring Road tend to get a bit more “traditionalistic”, blending in with the surroundings a bit more, while boxes outside the ringway look more like a mix between the Beijing Subway and Steve Jobs (as in that famous Apple “brushed metal” look). Above-ground stations look more like the designer got brainwashed with too much The Jetsons than anything else, with Beiyuanlu North looking especially way-out-there.

Most stations on Line 10 are of the boxed variety. However, the ones which also happen to belong to Line 8 look very different:

We’re not sure if these fellows are considering making all future Line 8 stations look like red roofs when the line gets extended further north (and south!) after the Games. From the looks of it, however, it looks like the Red Roofs are here to make a statement: “We belong to a very special era in the history of the nation’s capital!” (The Olympics!)

What we don’t get, however, is why no subway station was directly modelled after the Bird’s Nest… isn’t that supposed to be a Beijing 2008 icon instead? Ah well…

After about two week at one of my newer gigs, the Beijing Planning Exhibition Hall, I’ve a good idea what the average Chinese, born in the 1980s, uses on the Web. I also have an idea of what the more “internationalized” mainland surfer uses.

So, here’s what the Chinese Netizenry uses, Web 2.0-wise…

• Xiaonei: A lot.

The number one SNS in mainland China is not Facebook, but what they’ve resorted to calling “China’s Facebook”, with or without the controversial-it-may-be “copy” moniker.

Indeed, Xiaonei is all the rage. Its primary targets — students and white-collar workers — are pretty much the bulk of contacts for yours truly, which is why he’s in touch with 23 (and counting!) fellow uni and workplace colleagues.

There are other SNS networks around, such as Wealink and Hainei, but for David Feng, Xiaonei is the biggest mainland SNS on his radar right now. It’s just that he doesn’t check in all too often.

But a lot more these days.

• Facebook: Not everyone, but quite a few.

Facebook is home to more expats and folks outside China than mainland Chinese, mainly because of its interface, which is mainly English (although they’ve a Chinese translation underway), and because its servers are outside China. If you’ve known the Chinese Internet for any period of time, it’s strikingly similar to a massive intranet.

Facebook has a few of David’s friends. Mostly, they’re probably overseas Chinese or Chinese bloggers who’ve “made it” to the “big, outside World”. Not every Chinese blogger is there, but the “bigs” are almost guaranteed there.

• Twitter: “Internationalized” folks and the well-known (mostly).

Microblogging hasn’t taken off big-time in China (you’ll see that as we move on). Those tweeting along aren’t in China — yours truly is the obvious exception. Producing just under 500 tweets a week, David must be one of the more prolific tweeters around China — or in the Twittersphere (a guess only, though!).

Oddly eough, local services such as Jiwai.de or Fanfou are still pretty much “in the dark”. Few people I’ve spoken to are on those services — except for those I’ve met at Tweetups.

• LinkedIn: Expats only?

LinkedIn is very much “foreign language” in the Chinese Internet sphere, according to yours truly. He knows like about one or two mainland users on LinkedIn. And that’s about all.

Why? Language factor, servers outside nation, plus the “complexity” and “pro-ity” of the service are big bets here. Also, a lack of users from China — especially mainland users — make LinkedIn all that “new” and “strange” to locals.

I’ve also met very few mainlanders who use other services considered “pro-ish” such as Xing and Dopplr. It’s an odd, pro world here. Very few “compatriots”. All “expats”. Hmm…

• MSN (Windows Live Messenger): A lot.

On to more familiar territory, though: a lot of people use MSN (Windows Live Messenger). People who use MSN, though, are more likely to be people working at “white-collar enterprises”, be they at HP, Apple, or state-owned enterprises.

MSN is big. I’ve pretty much the bulk of my “recent contacts” on MSN. In fact, MSN is such a big part of Web life and real life (indeed!) that the China Merchants Bank released an MSN-themed credit card a few years ago.

• QQ: Just about everyone.

Finally, we move on to the very mundane. QQ is common currency in the Chinese Internet. Just about everyone I’ve met uses QQ, which finally also has an official Mac version.

QQ is big. QQ is like a Web republic in its own right. It uses QQ currency, gives you a QQ second life, and has a news center. QQ is “it” for a lot of people. It’s got everything they want.

QQ is probably less “biz” and more “life” as in MSN is thought more of belonging to office desk, while QQ is probably what romantic couples use at home (or even solo people!).

That’s pretty much a quickie intro based on what I’ve seen on the Chinese Web 2.0 scene. Note the presence of IM as a “1.0″ aspect. China is moving quickly to Web 2.0, but it’s not forgetting its 1.0 roots, either.

Talk about Tibet and Taiwan, as well as anything political, is off-limits to your fellow co-blogger — voluntarily, as politics and religion set (or could potentially set) more people off than anything. (It’s more about not making anyone ballistic than “creating a harmonious society”, as is the officialspeak here.) The bits and bobs of news we’ve been hearing lately, however, show that we’re probably a bit more informed about what happens outside our borders than — could it be — fellow folks State-side…?

No joke: the evening Network News Broadcast, available to the masses by both TV and radio every evening at 7 PM, contains 25 minutes of domestic officialspeak. In the last 5 minutes, however, you get the 5 minutes of news that matter. The co-hosts are seen less during the last 5 minutes: instead, seen more often are the likes of Bush, Her Majesty, and even planets outside our own Terra. Indeed, the final 5 minutes of news on China’s Central Television takes a look at the world outside mainland China. And sometimes, we get a quick report or two about new breakthroughs in technology, the discovery of a new planet, or maybe a yell-a-thon from Japan (yes, they do have that).

By contrast, when I was in San Francisco in 2006, I was treated to news on CNN about everything inside the US — a bit of Israel — and then, nothing. We’re not talking about the small bits and bobs like Switzerland Invents New Milka Chocolate Ad Slogan or North Korea Issues New Stamps To Commemorate National Day. Nope, we’re talking about big nations like China, India, or bigger parts of the world like Europe and Australia. I was shocked to see no coverage about China! (No surprise: I switched the TV off and got my updates from the Web instead.)

Come to think of it, this is supposed to be America, where “freedom of the press” and “news freedom” are common currency. We folks in China believe that the Americans should come to understand the World better, as they are more “free”. Instead, I was given the impression that the US is a country that locks itself inside its own frontiers, more than anything else — if that 15-minute report on CNN USA told me anything.

When people start locking themselves in, they start refusing different viewpoints — as in viewpoints of folks from other places or those with different opinions. This is nothing new to China: a self-locked China as late as the 1970s saw the nation way behind the Western World. No Jianwai SOHO then; nope, if you lock yourself in, you can’t move ahead.

This may seem a paradox indeed; folks in the Western world, often given to the fact that the Chinese are a “locked-in nation”, tend to have the misconception that China could care less about the outside World. In fact, international headliners are all the rage on Chinese media. Even the mouthpiece People’s Daily carry news about what’s happening outside national frontiers.

It’s time move beyond national frontiers and out into that great big World out there.

It’s Guomao. You know, that big “place” in eastern urban Beijing where everything’s supposed to make sense. Make sense as in economically. Financially. Commercially. OK, at 6 PM every weekday, the bridge at Guomao starts not making sense — as in a traffic jam (OK, not just one). But it’s rush hour. It makes sense. Again.

So everything at Guomao must absolutely make sense. Yes, we hear you. It also makes sense for futurologists and futurology-oriented Beijingologists that the core part of the CBD will be reality only after the Olympics. Makes sense (like I said) if you want to make people to keep on making sense of Beijing after 2008, when sports would have made its mark (made sense?) on the capital.

So hear me once again, absolutely everything at Guomao must make sense.

Except this.

Look at the image. Look at it closely. Get a magnifying glass out, or switch on Mac OS X’s screen zooming feature, if you’re not sure what you’re seeing makes sense.

Line 10 before Line 1? What is this, reverse mathematics?

Actually, this makes sense.

This, ladies and gents, is one of those Line 10 entrances to Guomao station, which will be expanded in the not-all-that-distant future to be an interchange with Line 1.

Still, this may not make real sense. I mean, seriously, why did they stick Line 10 in front of Line 1? Shouldn’t it be the other way ’round?

Actually, this is supposed to make perfect sense. They must have intentionally stuck Line 10 in front of Line 1, because this very entrance will first bring you to the world of Line 10 before letting you through to a passageway to Line 1.

When all’s said and done, Guomao may end up being one of the odder stations in the Beijing Subway system. 10 exits (7 open by the time the Olympics are in town) in all. A split central (or island) platform. And incredible architectural wonders — remember, they’re building this right underneath one of those incredibly difficult combo bridges!

Our hats are off to those who dared make Guomao not just reality, but also a bit of interchange reality.

And making sense of our daily commutes.

I just got introduced to that great big labor world recently — or pulled out of the job market, rather, with my recent gig at the Beijing Planning Exhibition Hall. It kind of fits in well with my passion in Beijingology — or the interest in the city of Beijing.

Having worked there for about a full week, I’m beginning to spot the differences — the gaps — between the average “tu sheng tu zhang” (土生土长) Chinese co-worker who never left the PRC and the rather Swiss me. Here’s a run-through in no particular order:

• The Swiss uphold the law like you’ve never seen before. Frequent reviews of work ethics and work codes are frequent for your Swiss David Feng. In contrast, the vision of “laws first” is surprisingly absent in many a Chinese fellow co-worker.

• Mainland men appear to be commandeering, always in firm control of the situation and sometimes coming close to (heaven forbid!) “trampling” (so-called — note the presence of the quotation marks!) on the ladies. To them, men are above women. Swiss men, however (especially for your Swiss David Feng), treat everyone as nicely as possible and try to neutralize any possibility of being “above” women.

• Productivity is key with the Swiss. The Swiss spend much of their time working, while locals can at times “take it easy” and just hang out when there’s not much to do. To your Swiss co-blogger, work time is strictly work time (the odd tweeting excepted).

• The Swiss are serious, but they also get a bit humorous at times. Locals giggle a bit, too, but more often than not, the Swiss sets those fellow co-workers off.

It would probably take me until 8 AM next morning to finish the entire list, so I thought I might give you a little starter. For those of you from Western Europe (in particular), all of this might be a bit familiar to you (as in what the rather Swiss me actually “does” at the workplace).

We all speak Chinese. We can also speak a bit of English. We’ve the same job — make sense of Beijing for incoming guests. Yet even here, there’s a gap — between the way a Swiss does his work and the way the average Chinese finishes the tasks given.

Swiss, Chinese, or wherever you may be from — have a great start to the new week!