China Quietly Rolled Out a Very Big Bang

In 1984, I came to China as a grumpy, uninquisitive backpacker, dragged from crowded bus to uncomfortable hostel to inedible meal by two student friends who spoke Mandarin. The highlight of my trip was a visit to Maxim’s, supposedly the only Western restaurant in Beijing. The coffee tasted like nectar, and I survived another week. The idea that China was five years into Deng Xiaoping’s great opening shamefully passed me by.

I thought of Maxim’s as I waited for a plane at Haikou Meilan International Airport earlier this month, nursing a cappuccino at yet another Starbucks; opposite me was a Jimmy Choo shop, each shoe worth several times the cost of a hostel three decades ago; on the other side stood a mountain of Lindt chocolate. These Western luxuries weren’t there for international visitors. Haikou is a provincial airport—the place China’s middle classes pass though on their way to the beach.