Little Moscow

A friend and I spent a late evening last Tuesday stumbling through the cinematic and bizarre alleys of Beijing's little Moscow, a neighborhood from what I can gather, whose primary industry is box packing, foot massage, and liquor stores. But no matter what the stores sold the innumberable signs graced us with the unusual coupling of female models in either furs or camisoles with adjecent images of fierce animals. The night was accompanied with the sound of 100 men rolling packing tape. The alleys turned factory floor, were full of such men in heavy floor length soviet army coats. Every little alley was strewn with hundreds of large boxes of which the sombre men, most of whom were simultaneously smoking, were taping every square inch. A man in a bicycle rickshaw encircled us yelling, "bee cluh cluh." The night only got more gloriusly confusing....