On Farewells
- Biyi
- Jun 19, 2024
- 4 min read
Updated: Aug 13

(This post was originally published on Jul 19, 2024)

July has been pegged, or wonderfully trapped, by a predominant thread: saying farewells.
Human history has never explicitly stated that July is the appropriate season for parting ways, yet my two closest friends, one of whom is Yan, have both chosen to leave Beijing at the end of this month, moving to Canada and New York to embark on new chapters of their lives. Yan and I were middle school classmates, while my friendship with the other close friend dates back to our elementary school days. We girls, after being sent to study abroad in our teens (Precisely to North America and Europe - the preferred study abroad destinations for affluent Chinese parents), have all returned to Beijing in our early 20s, keeping each other company in this sprawling city for the past eight years.
I wonder, until this day, the exact mechanisms behind the actions of gathering (č) and dispersing (ćŁ). On the surface, it is the massive changes that have occurred in the world and China that have led us, ordinary folks, down an exceptional path, a "sudden and brave change". But if we peel back the layers, it seems we humans have not really carved out anything new. The ancient adage of "what comes together must part, what parts must come together again" (ĺäš ĺż ĺďźĺäš ĺż ĺ) has always ringed true; "gathering" and "dispersing" is a pair of twins that share each otherâs otherness, cheek to cheek, back to back, inextricably bound together and forever.
So we indulged ourselves just as much in the gatherings as in the idea of dispersing. After living in the same city for so many years, we girls have formed numerous intimate little circles to extend our friendships to encompass each otherâs friends, partners, and even relatives. Over the past few weeks, all of these close-knit circles have been activated through a succession of farewell parties, or, as we Beijingers like to call them, ĺą. We raised glasses, got drunk, howled along to Jay Chou's old songs in karaoke well into the early hours, and danced wildly to the TFBOYS' classic debut âPractice Book for Youth éćĽäżŽçźćĺâ until our necks ached. The next morning, weâd order takeout coconut water on Meituan to sober up, lounging on the couch and dumping each otherâs unflattering photos (and, occasionally, a passionate kiss photo between our male friends - donât ask why! ) into the shared WeChat group, reminding one another to mark the time of the next ĺą in our calendars.
We soaked ourselves in these dense and hazy gatherings self-righteously, but before losing ourselves to drunkenness, we would also use our remaining rationality to express gratitude for being able to enjoy such luxurious, and more precisely, privileged, farewells. At the root of it all, we can have this because none of us have children yet (we are, as J.D. Vance accurately describes, childless cat ladies!), and, surprisingly yet unsurprisingly, most of us no longer work regular jobs or even have jobs at all. Some have taken on freelance work after being laid off; others have climbed to management positions that allow a flexible daytime schedule. As for the rest of us - myself included- although we still have companies to run or appear to have serious matters (ćŁçťäş) to perform, we spend most of the days merely pretending to do so (while slumping on the sofa and sipping coconut water. Shhh.).
By the time this update is sent out, this tumultuous farewell season will be approaching its climatic end (the final gathering, scheduled for July 27th, will be held at a large public bathhouse. We will get scrubbed clean, soak in milk baths and saunas, and enjoy a free-flowing supply of fruits and snacks throughout the night. How beautiful does it sound!) We all know these partings, in reality, are not as frightening as we make them to be: Yan will make a return to Beijing after exploring a few cities in Canada, and my other friend will also be commuting between China and North America at least twice a year. Yet, we still enjoyed dramatizing these farewells; we chose to embellish them, making them grand and extravagant, allowing memories of them to seep into our veins (along with alcohol) and to store them carefully in our hearts.
Perhaps, beneath the veneer of loud toasts and shoulder-patting embraces, we are simply horrible at saying farewells than we like to admit.
(Or, perhaps, we just have too much time to kill, shame!)
Hope you had a wonderful July, too, with your dear friends around.
Cheers and see you next time,
đť
Biyi
P.S. Regarding the cover photo - my mother, a calligraphy enthusiast and aspiring professional, wrote the character "朌" in one of her practice works. I took it and printed it onto a refrigerator magnet as a small memento for all of my departing friends.






Comments