Beijing keeps moving through another year as the city recovers and reshapes itself in the wake of the spring return. Office workers, expatriates, and locals mingle in Sanlitun, where bars fill with the steady rhythm of nightlife, while older neighborhoods in Gulou and surrounding districts continue to pulse with a stubborn, enduring charm. The city, a vast tapestry of streets and stories, faces two stubborn problems that lingered for months and demanded constant attention.
Spring Festival, following the lunar New Year, marks the peak of the holiday season in China. This year, the largest human migration in peacetime history sends millions toward Beijing, a metropolis that now houses around 20 million residents, drawing comparisons to Madrid in scale while echoing the cosmopolitan spirit of Shanghai. Some residents have long referred to themselves as the old Pekingese, a nod to a sense of local identity that sometimes clashes with the flood of newcomers. For many, long walks become a quiet ritual, a chance to reflect when leisure options remain limited. A handful of restaurants endure, often relying on backup cooks who remind travelers to enjoy a simple, home-cooked meal when visiting the city’s dining rooms.
The end of the zero-COVID policy shifted the rhythm of life, and by mid-December the streets appeared emptier as the old controls dissolved and the city briefly faced a flood of change. An infection wave followed, and acquaintances began to fall ill in quick succession. Pekingese residents tended to retreat to their homes to recover, with only a few younger individuals venturing out to greet the world outside. The experience of stocking food for a period of convalescence underscored a broader misunderstanding of the political shift and the harsh winter, pushing many to seek refuge elsewhere.
Air travel, once a symbol of effortless movement, became a reminder of the changing times as access controls faded. Passengers sat aboard with a wary acceptance of the reality that many would be carrying the virus. Even two layers of masks could not always shield travelers from the spread, underscoring the enduring vulnerability of crowded flights.
Beijing and Clement
The zero-COVID policy had a surprising tolerance for Beijing, where the capital avoided dramatic restrictions while a few stubborn frictions triggered limited, temporary measures. The policy proved effective for a period, grounded in a straightforward idea: when cases appeared in a city, it would be contained for a week and the neighborhood would largely resume normal life. The rest of the country could keep functioning with fewer disruptions. Those who still connected with Spain recalled quarantines, cycles of closures, and Christmases spent apart from family.
Today, the emphasis has shifted away from rigid containment toward protected normalcy that keeps people safe without halting everyday life. The United States, home to a sizable portion of China’s population, recorded a much higher death toll in the earlier stages, while scientists debate projected figures and scenarios. With high vaccination rates and the appearance of less severe variants, the virus now presents a different challenge than at the pandemic’s outset. The narrative moves from strict policy to practical living with fewer dramatic measures, yet vigilance remains on the horizon.
Political debates and worker actions have continued to echo through the months, but the goals of public health have often prevailed. Quarantines and travel restrictions persisted longer than hoped in some places, turning city check-ins and health codes into a daily routine. Origin and destination mattered in travel planning, as people sought to avoid red-health codes and, when possible, ensure a smoother return home. Still, the overall climate shifted away from the fear that defined earlier days, even as the city managed the risk with measured caution.
In Beijing, the memory of strict measures lingers only in stories and photos, while the current daily life shows a mix of caution and confidence. Masks still appear at times, but their use has become more selective, and the country has gradually embraced a coexistence with the virus shaped by communication and persistent public health messaging. From the crowded takeoffs in December to the relatively calm return flights, the country has closed those years with a practical, if imperfect, sense of normalcy.
As a new year begins with the sign of the rabbit, spring edges closer and fresh information challenges emerge. Regrets feel distant, even as small inconveniences persist, like a stash of ham, cheese, and chorizos left behind at the airport after a hurried departure.