As a long-time resident of Beijing, I must admit that sometimes I find myself going through the motions. With a 9-to-5 job, an endless list of tasks, life's ups and downs, and a genuine effort to maintain a social life, there often isn’t much room for spontaneity. I have my group of friends and our usual hangouts for the weekends, assuming we have some free time. Welcome to adulthood, right? Yet, there are moments when a voice in my head nudges me — am I getting a bit stuck in a routine?
If you can relate, dear reader, I’m not sure I can offer a solution other than relocating. However, I would like to suggest an intriguing exercise: take a look around your environment and pay attention to new happenings. Let me give you an example. Last winter, I was on my way to brunch at Side Street Jianguomen when I noticed some movement at the long-abandoned lot on Xiushui Nanjie, just before the corner with the Western restaurant Nola. I had no idea what that space looked like, as it had been lifeless for far longer than I have lived here. I wasn’t particularly curious at the time; I was simply cold, so I moved on.
Fast forward through a few brunch outings, and I found myself back at Side Street on a lovely spring day, attempting to catch up on work with my laptop. Unfortunately, my resolve weakened. With a gentle breeze and sunshine streaming down on the now vibrant rows of ash trees lining Jianguomen Waidajie, I soon found myself wandering about. And wow, those winter hints had blossomed into some lively activity at Xiushui Nanjie.
What a vague name that is, right? Friendship … Friendship what? I’ve dubbed it Friendship Complex, but I think it’s more enlightening to take a short journey through history. Things are often clearer in Chinese; if you look up any of the businesses on your preferred map, you’ll soon find references to a Friendship Store (友谊商店 yǒuyì shāngdiàn).
Friendship Stores are iconic remnants of old China, first established nationwide in the 1950s for a rather exclusive audience: Soviet experts aiding China’s economic progress, foreign tourists, diplomats, and government officials. These state-run stores were stocked with high-quality Chinese arts and crafts, along with a monopoly on expensive imported Western goods. Customers with foreign passports used foreign exchange certificates as their only currency to shop, while ordinary folks could only gaze in from the outside.
The tale of Friendship Stores began to fade in the early 1990s, as most became obsolete once foreign visitors were allowed to use regular RMB in the PRC. Some, like Beijing's branch at 17 Jianguomen Waidajie, which opened in 1973 and was once the largest of its kind in China, still exist. If you’re curious about how their business has fared in the past decade, Tripadvisor has a somber collection of lukewarm reviews available.
But why dwell on the past? Now that we know a bit about the history of the Friendship Complex, it’s time to explore, and don’t forget your wallet! The excitement begins at the newest Berry Beans location near the entrance, which has been open since January. Though small, the shop features adorable décor, a friendly waitress, and a nice selection of coffee-based drinks. There’s no Wi-Fi, but that helped me stay focused and enjoy my delicious Yogurt Martini (RMB 38). I skipped their dessert options, saving my sweet cravings for whatever will come from the ovens of Sol Sourdough, the artisan bakery currently under construction next door.
In fact, several neighboring businesses are in a similar situation. Nice Cream, known for healthy gelato, Peiping Machine — which has a lively atmosphere at night — and the plant-based restaurant Duli are ready to serve you. Meanwhile, at Metal Hands, I was captivated by a painter skillfully applying each brushstroke of the character 鐡 (tiě — iron) on a white sign. He only dipped his brush into a bright red tin of acrylic paint twice, seemingly unfazed by the swarm of children running around.
Towards the back, among a collection of colorful abandoned animal sculptures, a construction hoarding announced the upcoming opening of a Somm’s Table. Back in the courtyard, another wall wrap marked Lovespot, which is next to a yet-to-open Cantonese restaurant. Across from it was Carbo, apparently pasta-focused but currently only offering a menu tasting for friends, according to the waiter who encouraged me to return in about ten days. To their left, things were quiet at Ciao Whisky & Cocktail Bar; to their right, Jenny Wang's recently revamped branch looks set to open onto the patio, alongside another bar-like space called Mistier. More businesses may be forthcoming: vibrant, enticing,
The Friendship Complex is filled with possibilities just as summer approaches.
