An American in Beijing lives his Chinese dream

Gao Tianrui walks along streets in Beijing's Xicheng district as{#blank#}1{#/blank#}public security volunteer.{#blank#}2{#/blank#} (wear) his bright red armband (红袖章) and speaking fluent Mandarin, 62-year-old Gao Tianrui could {#blank#}3{#/blank#}(take) for any regular Chinese man. But on {#blank#}4{#/blank#}(close) inspection, things are not quite{#blank#}5{#/blank#}they seem: Gao's real name is Terry Crossman and he is from the United States. He is now a member of "Xicheng Dama", that is, volunteers, usually women in late middle-age,{#blank#}6{#/blank#}walk along the streets of downtown Beijing's Xicheng district. Terry said that, at first, he saw the group as busybodies, but {#blank#}7{#/blank#}(gradual) he saw that it was a good thing for retired seniors{#blank#}8{#/blank#}(help) others.

He is often seen giving tourists{#blank#}9{#/blank#}(direction), getting water for a baby and even helping a neighbor sell yogurt. "I like helping others," he said, "I live in the hutong and my neighbors and I usually help each other ... This is where I live, where my friends are and where I call home." Crossman {#blank#}10{#/blank#}(become) interested in Chinese culture as a teenager when he read Tao Te Ching by Laozi.

    Beijing was once a city of bikes, known as the Bicycle Kingdom{#blank#}1{#/blank#} cars were reserved for official business and the politically powerful. However, decades of economic{#blank#}2{#/blank#} (grow) led to a huge flowing of cars in the city. Owning one became not just a marker of reaching the middle class but also a requirement for marriage. As the economy developed, autos pushed bikes off the roads{#blank#}3{#/blank#} (create) heavy pollution and miserable traffic.

    {#blank#}4{#/blank#}(fortunate), now Beijing may he returning to its roots. Thanks to about 20 technology companies, brightly colored shared bikes {#blank#}5{#/blank#}(flood) into Beijing in the last two years. Many local residents welcome the shared bikes{#blank#}6{#/blank#}the flexibility and freedom they offer. They pick up the bikes and then ride and drop{#blank#}7{#/blank#} off anywhere they like, locking the back wheel, with no need to find a fixed place.

    Analyses in China say it is three factors that contribute to bikes {#blank#}8{#/blank#}(increase) rapidly: a lot of cash looking for a home, a good idea and government support. “As the city s population grew, traffic jams got {#blank#}9{#/blank#} (bad).” Cai, the Ofo spokeswoman, said, “Shared bikes could solve the 'last mile' problem in {#blank#}10{#/blank#} environmentally friendly way.”

    It is well known that the Chinese have great respect for their elders, and here is an occasion to show it-the Chongyang Festival. It falls {#blank#}1{#/blank#} the ninth day of the ninth lunar month. In Chinese, nine {#blank#}2{#/blank#}(regard) as the number of "yang". The ninth day of the ninth month is the day that has two "yang" numbers, and "chong" in Chinese means double, which is {#blank#}3{#/blank#} the name "Chongyang" came into being.

    The festival can date back to the Warring States Period. However, it was not {#blank#}4{#/blank#} (formal) set as a festival until the Tang Dynasty. In 1989, the Chinese government {#blank#}5{#/blank#}(declare)the ninth day of the ninth lunar month to be Seniors' Day-a day to respect {#blank#}6{#/blank#} elderly and to let them enjoy {#blank#}7{#/blank#}(they).

    Traditionally, people climb mountains, drink chrysanthemum (菊花) wine, and eat double-ninth cakes. Since cake in Chinese is pronounced "gao" meaning"high", people consider climbing a high mountain to be the same as eating cake in the hope of {#blank#}8{#/blank#} (promote) to high positions. And people often think that chrysanthemum wine can get rid of all kinds of diseases and {#blank#}9{#/blank#}(disaster).

    Today many activities are held {#blank#}10{#/blank#}(show) respect for the seniors like organizing a trip for them, sending them gifts and more on the day of the festival.

    One sentence from the news in Washington has remained in my mind since a trip last summer: "When you see people run against the crowd escaping{#blank#}1{#/blank#}the danger, they are {#blank#}2{#/blank#}(probable) firefighters, police or journalists.

    I think this is most true for the firefighters. Whenever and wherever {#blank#}3{#/blank#} (disaster) happen — 911 Attacks in New York 14 years ago or the explosion in Tianjin on Wednesday night — it is always the firefighters{#blank#}4{#/blank#}take the lead to run to the very center, saving lives by{#blank#}5{#/blank#} (risk) their own. I cried today near the explosion site, not because of the smoke from the ongoing fire {#blank#}6{#/blank#} because of a short message a firefighter sent to a trusted friend that went viral online. It reads, "If I cannot make it, my father is {#blank#}7{#/blank#}(you); and please remember{#blank#}8{#/blank#}(sweep) my mother's tomb." I was thrilled later to learn that he did make it.

    “Everyone knows it's {#blank#}9{#/blank#} (danger) to be a firefighter. But he has always liked it and has done it for 12 years," his father said. "He survived this time, but no one knows what{#blank#}10{#/blank#} (happen) next time.”