I am sitting in the corridor outside our room in Lijiang, China’s World Heritage Site, designated for its ancient, eight-hundred year-old city two blocks from this very unancient, very spartan but comfortable ten-dollar a night hotel. The noise of China washes over me. At first I tried just listing what I was hearing. Because it kept changing, even as I moved my notes around in a circle, recording what I heard, I couldn't make it make sense. Now I am trying again, but this time I will pay attention to types and sources of sound in this country that has created the most wild and busy construction zones on the planet, where even in the most remote villages I see through a train window huge bridges are being built, brick houses with rebar reinforced corners and
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