Oh geez I'm out of water and the closest shop is ten minutes away. It's blazing outside. I left my shades at work. But so... damned... thirsty. I gotta go for it.
The sun is like a hammer, its intensity is making me dizzy. But check this out: a corporate bad-ass (I see these dudes all the time in this park) muscling out a brisk jog. I know he's corporate because of his designer gear, sinewy muscles and determined glare. Clearly this fellow isn't bagging groceries or slinging swill at the noodle shack.
His bad-assery swells my beer belly with so much shame that I only dare to take a picture of his back.
I think that park maintenance is a great gig for migrants. In Stone City park (where Beijing Xi Lu meets the Qinhai River) there are heaps of them. They live in tents near an underpass and spend most of the day watering the greenery and sweeping.
This configuration is the norm: the guy in white does the sweeping, the guy in red rattles of nonsensical jibber-jabber, and the woman supervises while eating sunflower seeds.
Every morning, the Qinhai River spills over the banks, even when it doesn't rain. Where those trees are is actually a walkway overlooking the river.
Right on, I'm almost at the shop. Look, more migrants. These dudes have a less desirable gig than the park migrants, they're working like mules in the damned blazing heat.
It looks like hard, depressing work, but these lads are singing folk songs and telling jokes.
I guess happiness is all a matter of perspective...