Some beggars strike a chord with commuters

Last week, Chinese and American bureaucracy conspired to force me into making several trips to Haidian district, where my family's hukou is still based. As far as the government is concerned, I'm still a resident of Beijing's scrappy west side, and not its chic eastern half. So, whenever I need anything "official" done, I set off on a 20-kilometer trek across town.

The journey by subway or taxi is impossibly tedious, takes well over an hour, and leaves me intoxicated with car fumes or other people's body odor. But this time, I noticed something else.

Now that the weather is welcomingly warm, the beggars, and the "beggar-musicians," have returned to their posts.