First post from a mobile device. Yay.
There will be a big anti-fascist parade tomorrow. That’s what they call the holiday celebrating Japan’s withdrawal in WWII. It’s a multiple-of-ten anniversary so there will be tanks everywhere, particularly on the big street that goes between Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City, which, albeit a few kilometers to the east, also goes right between my house and my office before plunging into the suburbs.
Nothing will happen on this street tomorrow except tanks. To make sure of this, “martial law” (or curfew, if you’re one of the people who likes using the less sensationalist definitions from the dictionary) will be in effect along the big road for 24 hours, from 8:00pm on the night before to 8:00pm on the day of. As for my apartment complex, less than a block from the road, the entrances will be guarded by police and no one will get in or out.
I speak about this in the future tense, but it’s already after 11pm. I didn’t realize that we’d be on lockdown until 7:30 this evening, at which point I panicked, threw some clothes and a book and a bottle of whiskey in my backpack and just barely escaped while they were still rolling the police tape across the entrance. I’m now in a hotel by the airport, waiting to receive some Brits for a work thing tomorrow at 9 am.
Close call. Almost missed the Brits.
It’s dark and quiet and strangely pleasant out here in this hotel. Kind of an unexpected retreat.