I recently pedaled my bike on the long, straight boulevard from Tsinghua University's northeast gate toward Wudaokou subway station.
My wife and I boarded a train during the National Day holiday.
There are moments when Beijing can get a bit too much.
I have finally surrendered and now admit that an age-old claim is true: Women are far worse drivers than men.
At the first university I taught at in China I used to discuss with my students what the campus would be like if every teacher started driving a car to class.
I had long heard that drinking rituals in China's rural areas are fiercer than in the cities.
A friend and I went on a mission in Shenzhen: to buy the funniest Chinglish T-shirts we could find.
I felt a sense of disbelief. My bicycle was no longer where I had parked it.
I have the best time in the car when I'm with my Chinese in-laws.
Business cards are almost as important as the names themselves in China.
I have been bombarded by criticism about my choice of a Chinese school for my English boy.
Another sporting event completed, another exhaustive, dazzling display by Chinese hosts.
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