Whistle down wind with split pants

With the Lunar New Year just around the corner, Beijing's modern facades have undergone yet another transformation. Glass-paneled doors are pasted over with red paper cut-outs of the word fu ("happiness"). Rhyming couplets auguring good fortune are hung around doorways. These festive adornments hark back to a time before skyscrapers, when more of Beijing looked like the last remaining "hutong" inside the Second Ring Road.

As we enter the season of tradition, I'm remembering another iconic image from bygone days: the kai dang ku. Not nearly as ubiquitous as before, the "split pants" are still frequently sighted in warmer seasons, much to the dismay of some Beijing residents. Last August, my friend announced she was leaving Beijing for good with this message on her Facebook homepage: "Farewell to publicly urinating babies!"

She's certainly not the first person to complain about the phenomenon. Despite the waning popularity of crotchless pants, there are still plenty of baby bottoms peeking out at unaccustomed expats. In the older neighborhoods, attentive mothers dot the sidewalk, holding their overexposed toddlers with legs wide open, whistling xuxu.