BEIJING - Before arriving in this cryptic city of 17 million, a close friend with travel in his blood gave me a piece of advice about coping in China.
"Whatever you may think you know about Beijing and China, throw it out the door," he advised. "Whatever you think you may know is probably wrong anyway."
Wise words indeed because Beijing is a portrait of contrasts. Since arriving more than a week ago to cover my first Olympics, I have been both pleased and disappointed by a city I knew only from the well-thumbed pages of travel guides.
Pleased that people are so friendly and have willingly embraced the outside world that has flocked to the Games; disappointed because the ancient and historic Middle Kingdom capital I expected to find is a city bombarded by commercialism and materialism.
Beijing is awash in new steel and concrete. Everywhere you look something, old is being replaced by a bigger, taller and more impressive replacement. The Olympics spurred some of that development -- to the tune of C$40 billion for the new athletic facilities.
But away from the air-conditioned markets and malls, over-stocked with western staples, North America-style fast-food and fancy cars, there are still traces of the old Beijing.
I've strolled through hutongs, a network of narrow streets and alleyways where people still live. These historic and disappearing neighbourhoods are a fascinating throwback to a life that is quickly growing out of style.
To someone looking for a postcard impression of this ancient city, it may seem tragic that the hutongs have disappeared at such breakneck speed.
But after speaking to a 70-something woman named Wang Te-Ching who has lived in these cramped conditions with her family for five decades, it's easy to understand why she wouldn't mind trading up for a modern government-issued apartment.
Wang is a volunteer for the Games and is proud that her country is hosting these Olympics. That's a feeling that is everywhere: a fierce, nationalistic pride emanates wherever you go in this city. Armies of Olympic volunteers greet foreigners with an enthusiastic "Ni hao!" and a "Welcome to Beijing!" Sitting inside the National Stadium, the centrepiece of the Beijing Games, you could feel that fervour reverberating as the Chinese Olympic team marched in during the opening ceremonies.
Older people routinely grab the oversized Olympic accreditation badge around my neck and mouth the translation "ji zhe", mandarin for journalist or reporter, before offering up a hearty laugh.
Younger people are happy to practise their English. Their eagerness to learn is evidence of a country on the rise. People's fascination with foreigners, their genuine warmth and the hospitality that's prevalent wherever you go is the exact opposite of the insular, withdrawn attitude I'd expected to find.
Some things about Beijing have come as advertised. The thick, choking grey smog -- or haze, as they call it here -- blankets the city constantly. But I've been more bothered by the polluted streets of Calcutta or even the cigarette smoke that clings to the air on a hot day back home in Montreal.
Residents say the air quality is actually quite improved thanks to the draconian measures imposed to cut down on emissions, such as shuttering factories in the provinces around Beijing and keeping half of the city's cars off the streets.
Then there's sprawling Tiananmen Square, with Mao Zedong's portrait staring down from the gate that leads to the Forbidden City. Standing in the middle of the plaza that is the size of some farmers' fields back in Canada, you realize everything in this city -- new or old -- seems bigger than big.
Despite the contrasts and my friend's advice about things appearing not as they seem, one thing seems clear from here: Beijing has embraced the world as its guest.
The question no one can answer yet is how much of what Olympic visitors like me are experiencing is the real Beijing or will the real Beijing return when the world's eyes shift away in another week or so?
