Yesterday, my partner and I completed the rather spontaneous process of moving to another apartment in Harbin. The primary reason for doing so was to reduce her commute to work quite significantly (by about an hour each way!) On the whole, there wasn’t too much different on the actual moving side of things than to the West: get boxes, pack, hire some moving guys, unpack. Although with the two men we hired, we did have to haggle prices (a lot pricier than the website alluded), and they had rather old fashioned methods of transporting our large boxes (slugging two of them at a time on their backs using ropes).

Our new place is much nicer and larger, instead of a studio apartment, it actually feels like a little house, even with a separate bedroom! But the biggest contrast to our old place is the location. The old apartment was in what one could call the new modern China, whereas our new place is quite firmly established in a much older neighbourhood in the city where there are a lot fewer high-rise buildings around.

So what defines modern China? I’m not talking about the grand scheme of things, the country that is increasingly dominating the world’s economy and becoming the next major international player, whose cultural influence is slowing permeating across the globe. I mean the everyday modern China, the changes that have swept this nation so rapidly over the past ten to twenty years. In this city, one that is so obviously in a period of transition, where you can see subways and countless skyscrapers simultaneously being constructed, the contrasts are stark between these two Chinas.

Where I lived for just over a year was a quintessential example of new China. I lived in what appears to be a unique feature of the country (not least due to the sheer population): a gated off community filled with several massive high-rise apartment buildings. In these, there are multiple shops like grocery stores, hairdressers, restaurants, pharmacies and the like. They usually have a small park in the middle that centres the entire apartment complex. These places are almost like villages within cities, except hardly anyone knows each other. My complex was a much smaller version, consisting only of two thirty-something floor buildings and I was on the fifteenth, by far the highest I’ve every lived. As you can tell by the picture, these places have a rather modern look, and both buildings are identical.

Another key part of modern China is something that affects all of the modern world – shopping malls – and my apartment building was literally connected to one via an underground carpark. A mall is a mall, no matter where in the world you are, so within it is contained all that you’d expect in one. The only noticeable difference for me was the far greater clothing stores to other types ratio. Also, there are regular, often strange performances and promotions right in the centre of the mall. One of the odder examples was a tiny soccer field set up so that toddler teams could play a small tournament (or something like that). Malls in China are growing quite fast, and they’re everywhere, a prime example of growing consumerism and the middle class in China, something I find quite interesting, given that it is nominally a Communist nation! I’ve often wondered what Chairman Mao would think seeing so much capitalism and Western influence (KFC, McDonalds and other Western products are everywhere) in the China he helped forge.

In stark contrast to my old habitat, there is absolutely none of the above mentioned. It appears to be a much poorer and underdeveloped neighbourhood, perhaps an area where you’d like to visit, but not to live. Everything just seems old, and quite run down (which is quite misleading because my apartment is quite nice). But here, traditional city life is absolutely thriving. There are countless family run restaurants, grocery stores and shops. It’s nice and quiet, far away from the sounds of big avenues and busy traffic. There are morning markets, where cheap fresh produce is sold leading to a bustle of activity in the early hours of each day. But despite this, things feel a little less rushed and a lot more real than living in big apartments next to a mall.

This transition to an older neighbourhood made me reflect a little on what modern life loses as a result of all the nice conveniences. This new place, though a little rough on the edges, just seems so much more Chinese, more authentic than what I’ve come from. Having a lady run a restaurant out of her home, cooking you a meal and interacting with you (despite myself having very limited Chinese!) is just a more fulfilling experience than going to a McDonalds or even just a typical restaurant in the mall. The old buildings, some appearing to be crumbling within my new neighbourhood are more enjoyable to look upon than some of these modern constructs that are only designed for practicality, and the flashy bright interior of malls. And there’s simply something special about going to a morning outdoor market in the freezing cold, than simply going to a massive supermarket.

Modernity has brought many conveniences to all of our lives, but simply put, we seem to have lost something along the way – the heart and soul of things. But admittedly, I am just a little old fashioned in many ways.

On quite a different beat, the last thing I reflected on yesterday during this whole moving period was attachment and letting go. Despite looking quite forward to going to a new place, as we packed our last things, and waited for the movers to arrive, we both had quite a sentimental and sad moment saying goodbye to the apartment – filled with so many good times and memories. It suddenly became quite hard to leave, to let go of this place. I almost had a moment of regret for leaving. It’s interesting how powerful memory can be that it physically affects us, how we can become so attached to material things. But simply said, and this probably sounds a little cliche, is that without letting go, we can’t grow and evolve, experience more of what life has to offer. It’s scary and sad sometimes, but without moving on to different things, jumping into the unknown from time to time, we may simply stagnate and decline, spiritually and as a human. Perhaps all this is quite an ironic statement coming from someone who’s just moved away from a modern, new location and praised a more traditional, unchanging way of life!