China: after a 1/4 of a century, it is different (kind-of)
In the beginning...
My first time in Asia was also my first time in China at the end the previous millennium. This trip, 25 years later, began with the second city I used to live in, Shanghai. It is the main gateway to central and southern China, so much so that Pudong airport is nearly in the pacific ocean. To varying degrees, China is a mix of the ancient and modern.
This was still evident when I caught a glimpse of Jing'an temple close to one of my old apartments.
From there, I used to commute to a teaching position at a private school. This English training centre is mainly for adults looking to improve fluency for career advancement and to prepare themselves to emigrate.
During that year or so, I saw and heard about some ridiculous and flummoxing behaviour on the part of the local population. One highlight is another teacher who observed an argument about a traffic dispute culminating with an angry man throwing his bicycle at a pedestrian who he had been having a shouting match with.
I frequently came across amusing and annoying behaviour myself. "They smoke like chimneys," was a frequent retort of mine. After a while, I concluded that the national hobby was spitting, as countless individuals used to in every location you can think of, and some that you can't. The third of the 3 esses is what had first been annoying, then later took on a comic effect: staring. The dawn of the millennium was when Caucasians with green or blue eyes and over 20 centimeters taller than the national average were still novel. Expats took to using terms such as "starring squads" and "zombies", among a litany of complaints about a lack of manners and civility in general.
Among this comedy and frustration, many or most things that were either purchased or encountered were of absolutely appalling build quality.
First impressions of this visit, however...
The most striking changes were clear on my way to Jing'an temple. Even "the most modern city in China" had revamped its infrastructure. The commute to the first city I lived in, Wuxi, made this even clearer. Wuxi is just south of the Yangzi river, approximately halfway between Shanghai and Nanjing, one of China's former capital cities.
Not only were the deafening loud speakers gone from the stations, but also the passengers were no longer appearing to try and storm the train as if they were going to miss it.
The speed at which it seemed to glide across the ground was remarkable, since I could barely feel it moving at between 3 and 5 times the previous speed while the loudest sound was one or two of the other passengers snoring.
The contrast was most evident during a brief stop a station when one of the old rickety green with yellow stripe models appeared. I once travelled across China in one those, lurching and vibrating while being full of gruff and noisy peasants who smoked and spat everywhere.
"How long has this been here?" The previous contrast with nearby Shanghai almost entirely disappeared once I set foot in the Wuxi metro, which had first been opened a decade after I had lived there.
There were no more smoky and smelly diesel buses which used to have a conductress who would lean out of a middle window and open-handedly bang it while shouting "attention, this bus is turning!" while it was turning around a corner even at cross roads with traffic lights.
There were still some familiar sights, although more subtle and thankfully in shorter supply. On sidewalks, there is still some shoddy paving, along with the occasional sprinkling of comedy. Peeing on bushes is only done in secluded areas, and quite a few speak at megaphone-level volume when making phone calls. At one point in a bus, 2 grandmothers in front of me were taking it in turns to open and close their mutual bus window while arguing about which option was most suitable. This "bus window relay" dispute lasted 5 minutes.
No longer the "land of the bicycle"
At least where I was, it wasn't that anymore. Bicycles that one has to physically pedal have become a surprisingly rare sight. The few that I saw were probably still being ridden while they were still in serviceable condition. By now, my old bike has probably been recycled. However, 2-wheel personal transport is still widespread. 
The "land of the jacketed moped" is a catchphrase which I invented after a few days in Wuxi, where they are far more widespread than Shanghai. While not all of them are this cute, many have been equipped with jackets which the owners don't take off even in summer.
These electric mopeds are ridden by a variety of characters, including a lady I saw who had her daughter standing between her feet and the handlebars. Soon after her, came a man who was yawning so widely that if he had been unlucky on that day, he would have ended up with a mouth full of flies or mosquitoes.
EVs are now common place, even a few Lotuses. Whereas the gasoline cars are still built in England, their electric vehicles are built in Wuhan, so a sales consultant at a Lotus showroom in Wuxi told me.
In 1999, cars were either a rusty Suzuki, a VW Passat, or a Mercedes chauffer driven for an official. Nowadays, the are many EVs including a wide variety of Tesla's competition which includes some no-name Chinese brands.
While electric mopeds have replaced bicycles, they are also a showcase for the continuing lack of forethought about safety. Texting is widespread, and many do not switch their lights on after sunset. Given that they are all electric, there is potential for mopeds to become silent killers.
I can't see you, but I know you're there
Besides being a line from City of Angels, the existence and general presence of the Party is well known, even if visible signs thereof are seldom obvious. 
To a certain extent, just like at the turn of the millennium, it is largely ignored. In China, "party pooper" has another meaning, so there is still no obvious discontent. One visit to the preserved historic Wuxi library revealed something to me, subtly. Doubling as a literature exhibition and a shop, various official biographies and development theories were most prominently displayed and impossible not to notice. The many visitors there were intensely reading something else, or anything else.
Light grumblings about the official quasi-reiterating/revival of the little red book means that there is a modest increase in gratitude for the ability to make use of a VPN.
The splendid reduction
The 3 esses have reduced remarkedly, so my observation of 1999 no longer applies: "There are 3 national hobbies in China: staring, smoking, and spitting."
Not only did my hotel have signs reminding anyone that no smoking signs should be taken seriously, there was no longer anyone blatantly flouting this rule by smoking next to an actual sign. This could be due to increased respect for rules and also greater consideration for the health and well-being of anyone else. Even where it is permitted, far fewer smoke, perhaps having realized that not only is it unhealthy, but also inconsiderate to everyone else.
The excessive consumption of tobacco is/was a partial cause of the voluminous amount of spitting I used to see and hear. Nowadays, it is no longer done in publicly, and has been reduced to hockles which are still audible, despite fewer of them. Better manners and civility is doubtlessly the main reason for it, with less smoking being a smaller contributing factor.
While there were fewer foreigners in Wuxi and even Shanghai than there used to be, I would frequently be the subject of the previously described surreal fascination as I was usually the sole non-local anybody had seen all day (that I noticed, at least). I waited until I had finished my brief stopover in Shanghai and had been in Wuxi for about a week before I reached a conclusion. Having noticed that no-one was staring and that all were actually paying attention to their surroundings, I surmised that the starring squads had ceased to be a phenomena of China. The only exception to this was being stared at by anyone under 5 who happened to be rather bored.
"Zombies" have almost entirely gone extinct, because there are more worthwhile activities, and probably more fulfilling lives whereby such starring is deemed to be a waste of time to begin with.
Excellent cuisine, as always
Ever since I was first given Chinese takeaway to sample at dinnertime when I was 4, it has been my favourite. Gastronomically speaking, my first visit to China had been coming for the entirety of me growing up.
A new discovery then was Xiaolongbao (小笼包), which I couldn't wait to have again (almost literally). It is a specific variety of steamed bun, traditionally prepared in a small bamboo steaming basket. The filling is steamed pork containing ginger, sesame oil, shaoxing wine, white pepper, soy sauce, sugar, and salt.
Xiaolongbao is a creation of the Jiangnan region, south of the Yangzi river in Jiangsu province. In particular, the very best of them are in Wuxi, at least according to me.
Highly fitting advertising is abundant in Wuxi. When passing farms in Jiangnan in 1999/2000 and recently, if they raise pigs, I would think that they are walking Xiaolongbao.
Among the many familiar delicacies, there was also the Squirrel shape fried fish (song shu gui yu/ 松鼠鱖魚). Largely native to the nearby giant lake, Taihu (太湖), it is also well-known for having been a favourite of pre-PRC president Jiang Jieshi (蔣介石).
During a family visit to a nearby restaurant, Squirrel shape fried fish was also an addition to my vocabulary. The world's finest cuisine (not only in my opinion, but it's also a fact) is as ingrained in Chinese national identity as the Chinese language, with a history which is approximately as long.
In addition to confirming what they all knew, that I am the biggest fan of Xiaolongbao of anyone who didn't grow up in Wuxi, I was able to explain much of the above to all of them.
Different and still the same
Having previously lived in Wuxi and Shanghai for about 4 and a half years, my viewpoint and impressions that I gained from this 3-week visit could be comparatively superficial. Commentary and descriptions of numerous apartment buildings which sit empty seem to align with a portrayal and even a prediction that China is pretty much a house of cards.
At several locations, the skyline resembles a forest of apartment buildings (such as behind the Wuxi Museum, left), given the denseness of the many construction projects. While they aren't all lit up after sunset, I could have only definitively established the status of residential occupancy of each of these many buildings by knocking on the door of every single unit across multiple apartment towers.
Although there have been some cosmetic changes in Shanghai, it is unclear if it is anything more than just a Chinese version of Wall Street, whether it is still a plagiarized variant of it or not.
When it came to Wuxi, however, much has changed. What had initially begun as a swamp next to Taihu lake, went on to become a pioneer of Chinese agriculture, eventually branching into light industry.
When I lived in Wuxi, there was still much development left to do since the PRC had been founded in 1949. Compared to cities such as Shanghai, Beijing, and Nanjing, the city and its population were relatively backward. Still misbehaving as much as the better known cities, just dressed more scruffily.
Taihu has transformed into a lake that services Wuxi, rather than the city clinging onto the edge of it. This is mainly through technological advances so that the Greater Wuxi Area is both calmer and livelier...
...even at nighttime, when the population and its lake would fall asleep except for any troublemakers.
Hi-tech and service industries are now prevalent, whereas a 1/4 of a century ago, they barely existed in the city by the lake with a few non-descript factories.
Also gone is any disrespect for history and ancient culture. Restoration and preservation is now paramount whereas the Cultural Revolution half a century ago targeted anything "old", whether it was architecture and arts along with the actual architects and artists.
The temple and it's neighbourhood, Chong'an, have resulted in the old becoming new again.
The temple in its surrounding neighbourhood, especially at night have the appearance and vibe which used to only be associated with Japan and Korea. This reflects how they can interact, whereas cultural heritage used to be vandalized and thrown away.
Such modernization while keeping in touch with history are at least partially responsible for a significant reduction in the prevalence of the 3 esses. Whereas I stand by my observations of when I first lived in China (specifically Wuxi and Shanghai, with occasional far-and-wide travel), I am pleased that these bad habits of the national character have either decreased substantially, or have disappeared entirely.
Overall, the 100 metre-wide Grand Canal is a symbol of the potential of Wuxi, and perhaps even of China as a whole.
It was / is a system of interconnected canals linking major rivers nationwide, dating from the 5th century BC. It is still the world's largest artificial waterway, Wuxi being the only city it runs directly through on its way to Beijing.
In stark contrast with the Wuxi I lived in a quarter of a century ago, many of the laughable and negative elements have been replaced. The combination of genuine respect for heritage and increasing dynamism combine in Wuxi in particular.
Modernization in concert with refurbishment demonstrates greater value placed on heritage which at least potentially entails that my prior pessimism no longer applies as strongly as it used to.
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