Even though I’ve been living in Beijing for more than a year, I haven’t really experienced it. People here tell me the city is not its normal self—only after the Olympics will I get to know the real Beijing.

Ever since it was awarded the Games seven years ago, the Chinese capital has been like a stressed-out mother fussing over her children, making sure they are neat and tidy and that the house is swept clean before the big party.

You can feel the nervous tension in the air. At times, there is genuine excitement that the Olympics is coming, and at others sheer annoyance at things like security checks in the subways and taking half the cars off the roads. (In order to calm traffic and reduce air pollution during the Olympics, each car will be allowed on the roads on alternate days, depending on whether its licence plate ends in an even or an odd number.)

Migrant workers from all over the country are almost finished the last phases of construction, touching up renovations, repaving roads and sidewalks, and creating gardens that seem to spring up overnight. One evening as I was walking home, I saw an army of gardeners working on a street corner that had previously been only dirt. If I hadn’t seen them planting those trees and flowers, I would have thought I was imagining things the next day.

When I moved here, I was intent on witnessing the changes in the city, and hoped to learn more about the place and its people. And it has been an overwhelming experience.

Beijing can be summed up in one word: masculine. It’s a huge city with wide streets and gigantic office buildings that dwarf its residents. The public-transit system doesn’t seem to be designed for convenience: once you get off at a bus or subway stop, it’s usually a 10-to-15-minute walk to your destination.

Traffic can be completely unpredictable. I take the same route to work every day, but the roads can be either completely congested or relatively clear. There is no rhyme or reason to the madness. Thankfully, the city is in the process of creating a more extensive subway network. When I arrived, there were only three lines. Now there are six, including the 16-minute express train to the airport.

Another concern is pollution. Yes, it’s bad. Many days I wake up and see a giant grey “fog” over the city. A good chunk of that air mass is probably made up of fine airborne particulates that some foreign media reports say is three to five times above World Health Organization standards.

The silly thing is, I’m too self-conscious to wear a mask when I go out, as was recommended to me by doctors in Vancouver. Sometimes I cover my mouth or hold my breath, hoping to avoid developing the lungs of a smoker, but that’s wishful thinking.

For someone who believes Vancouver’s Chinese food is some of the best in the world, it’s hard to eat in Beijing. Most restaurants here aren’t shy about using oil. That’s because only a few decades ago, food was rationed and ostentatious dining was shunned. Now that people can afford it, why not splash out on the oil?

The same goes for meat. A sign of being poor is being unable to afford meat. So there’s little understanding of vegetarians in Beijing. Why be one when you can afford to eat more expensive food?

You have to remember that not long ago, people were wearing drab, grey-and-blue Mao suits and working in factories, each with an “iron rice bowl” job that promised security but paid poorly. But all that changed 30 years ago, when Deng Xiaoping opened up China to become the world’s factory. Today, many young people wear the latest trendy outfits and carry slick cellphones. They dream of owning a car and an apartment, two things that would put them in the fast-growing middle class.

While people are beginning to experience material wealth, they aren’t that sophisticated yet by Canadian standards. Etiquette and hygiene are my biggest gripes. Many Beijing restaurants, malls, and tourist spots still have squat toilets. Even a modern office tower can have a porcelain hole in the floor. Some argue that it’s ergonomically better to squat, but the puddles on the floor drive me crazy.

Many people don’t wash their hands after doing their business, either. One time, I asked a woman in her mid 20s, “You’re not going to wash your hands?” She replied, “I think they’re clean enough.”

My other big beef is spitting.

I still cringe when I hear that grating, distinctive, throaty sound. While I understand the need to expel unwanted things from the body, do people have to do it anywhere they happen to be? I was once in a subway car when a young man horked onto the carriage floor and then spread the spittle around with the sole of his shoe.

While all this makes it sound like I hate Beijing, there are parts that I enjoy.

On the whole, people are warm, friendly, chatty, and at times curious about who you are. As a second-generation Chinese Canadian who speaks Cantonese, my Putonghua (standard Mandarin) isn’t the greatest, so people sometimes ask if I’m Korean or Japanese. When I tell them where I’m from, it takes them a moment to categorize me, to decide if I’m one of them or a foreigner. But in the end, they realize we are all Chinese and are pleased to see an overseas Chinese back in the motherland.

And once you get away from the modern buildings and head to the older parts of town, you discover a hutong alley, lined mostly by one-storey courtyard houses, some of which have been converted into restaurants.

My favourite Beijing moment to date happened at the Houhai “back lakes” on a crisp December morning. While other people were skating on the frozen lake, we rented old-school bikes and rode around the perimeter.

Then we spotted some people submerged in the lake. Could it be? As we approached, we saw senior citizens clad only in swimsuits doing a few quick laps in a small area that hadn’t yet frozen over.

We were shivering in our down jackets just watching them, and they laughed at the attention.

Perhaps that’s what the real Beijing is all about—taking the plunge and making the most of it.

Access: The best time of year to visit Beijing is March to mid-May or September to October. A good Web site for finding out what’s happening in Beijing is www.thebeijinger.com/.