Beijing vs Shanghai

is there ever a good answer

The lady who sat next to me had already consumed three beers by herself as the train approached Beijing.

I understood her.

For a long time, especially during Covid, every time I returned to Beijing from somewhere, I felt a chill run through my body upon reaching the city's borders.

It was a Sunday in mid-May. She must be quite friendly, especially after drinking, I thought to myself. And so, we began talking. Tangtang, a woman in her 30s and a native of Beijing, had just enjoyed a fun weekend with her friends in Shanghai. "All my friends who moved away from Beijing seem much happier than before," she claimed. Despite being mortgage-free and having a decent tech job in Haidian, she appeared unhappy and trapped.

"Once you live in Beijing, you'll find it easier to be happy elsewhere," my current roommate, a graduating senior who recently moved to Beijing for an internship, declared last week.

Obviously, not everyone shares that view. At a recent poetry night held in a hutong bar, a friend performed a 10-minute poem reminiscing about the Beijing bars that were important to him but had shut down in the last decade. Later, he told me that Beijing will always be better than Shanghai. Another friend from Zhejiang, who lives for the Beijing music scene, said she would never live in Shanghai.

Since moving here from Shanghai a year and a half ago, one of the questions I've been asked the most is, "Do you like Beijing or Shanghai more?"

Is there ever a good answer to this question?

For me, Beijing is a state of tranquility whenever I need it—whether it's in my quiet compound where many retired Beijingers live, a cafe in hutong, or Chaoyang Park, Beijing's central park where you can wander for hours. I am granted enough space if I need to be left alone. When I was in Shanghai, I felt like I couldn't really pause with so many things happening every day. Moreover, Beijing is a place where people take the time to get to know one another. The locations are so spread out here that people are forced to make plans in advance, often setting aside hours for a single activity.

But here are the two most puzzling questions I had when I first arrived in the capital:

1. Where are the people, indeed? Besides parks and shopping complexes, I always felt that I couldn't see people walking on the streets. During the lantern festival last February, which is supposed to be the most crowded and noisy festival from my childhood memories, Beijing seemed eerily silent. The buildings were huge and tall, the roads vast. After leaving a local restaurant following a casual dinner with a friend, I felt lost and lonely. I longed to see some lanterns.

2. Why does an Americano cost 30 yuan? I couldn't find a coffee shop that opened before 10 am in my neighborhood, and a simple cup of coffee would cost me 30 yuan. Shanghai, as the current queen of coffee shops in the world, with more than 8,000 cafes, had spoiled me too much. I missed the 15-yuan Americano and the 5-yuan discount I would get for bringing my own bottle.

To be honest, I was just like Tangtang, experiencing similar “returning Beijing syndromes.” After spending a week in Shanghai, I texted a few friends on my way back, saying, “I don't want to go back to Beijing.” I was too happy in Shanghai, asking cafe baristas about coffee bean options, observing fashionistas from a curb-side restaurant, or biking around under the trees in the former French concession areas just to see what was going on. I can see people and feel seen.

I don't feel that much in Beijing. I bond deeply with people in Beijing, but the city, in general, offers a lesser apparent sense of community. I don't seem to derive energy from simply walking around the city. I don't observe people engaging in activities on the streets.

Like other Beijing residents, I often complain about the worsening pollution this year. I'm also among those who joke about how “tu” or “unstylish” Beijing can be, how it can be qualified as a “food desert”, how it can feel uptight and depressing, especially during sensitive months. It used to be challenging to enter or leave the Beijing bubble during the Covid times, and the city sometimes drives away young people and migrant workers who used to call it home.

How often do you see a smiling person on the Beijing streets?

Actually, still quite often.

The week after I returned, I was at a cafe near Wangfujing in the late afternoon on a weekday, working after a doctor's appointment nearby. During a break, as I looked outside through the street-facing glass windows, I witnessed a heartwarming scene—a diverse group of people of all ages came to pet the coffeehouse cat, which was sitting on a bench inside.

First, two high school students wearing their uniforms arrived, followed by two middle-aged female friends. Then, an elementary school kid with youth league red ribbons and a young girl joined them. They didn't appear worried about whether they would be welcomed or not. The baristas, on the other hand, were busy making coffee or observing the visitors come and go, undisturbed. For once, I felt like I had become a part of the dynamics and matrix of Beijing.

And they were all smiling.

It took time to find them, just like the communities in Beijing. It's the classic firms at China Film Archive that attract urban dwellers in the evenings. It's the inexpensive rock shows in warehouses. It's the bars that host small book fairs, free screening nights, and flea markets. They are always there, quietly.

While the modernity and changes in Shanghai excite me, it's the unchanged aspects of Beijing that move me. It's still where musicians, artists, and other creatives gather and start their journeys, whether in their affordable hutong homes or villages outside the 5th ring. I want to know about Beijing.

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Also, I asked a few people on the same question, here are what I got,

Wency -

“In Beijing, I get to have a circle of friends who are my support network, which is also why I like Beijing. I don’t have that yet in Shanghai.”

“Shanghai values personal boundaries more.”

“I have some local Beijinger friends, but I don’t have Shanghainese friends.”

“In Beijing dinner tables, we talk about politics. But we talk about consumerism in Shanghai.”

Luna -

“On the surface, Shanghai is more anti-outsiders. But it is actually a more inclusive city than Beijing. It’s harder to become a new Beijinger because of the stagnation.”

“Shanghaiese though, seem to be very pretentious.”

“They are more stylish as well.”

Rachel -

“The creative scene in Beijing is better.”

“The Mind Your Own Business vibes is stronger in Shanghai, versus everyone else is more nosy or perhaps enthusiastic to get into other people's business in Beijing.”

“Beijing is a total food dessert.”

Yaling -

“I've always liked Beijing's people more but when I was offered a journalism internship there I didn't go because I couldn't see myself living there. I complain about Shanghai's people a lot but this is the only city I'd live in in China.”

“Fashion-wise...as someone who covers the market, I can't take Beijing's fashion seriously. Beijing's luxury consumers prefer big logos than the actual style, and the middle class consumers care less about presentation I feel like. But the latter may be a good thing?” (Follow Yaling’s excellent newsletter about Chinese consumers here!)

Here’s to next time (will update more often…)