Spit and polish

Looking across Tiananmen Square, Wang Tao's eyes don't turn to the Great Hall of the People or the grand Gate Tower. Instead, his gaze sweeps over passersby. His ears alert to the loud sound of throat clearing, Wang is focused on their mouths, watching for the arc of phlegm that foreign visitors have dubbed the Beijing Curse. Following the telltale hacking sounds, the anti-spitting activist identifies three offenders within 10 minutes. Wang, 35, hands each person a piece of paper - not a fine but tissue to clean up their discharge.

Embarrassed, two apologise and yield to the anti-spitting activist's polite request, but the third offender resents the intrusion. Instead, the man rubs the spit with the sole of a shoe. 'Now it's clean,' he says.

Accustomed to such reaction, Wang wipes away the residue. 'Please use a tissue next time. Otherwise, you'll carry germs wherever you go,' Wang says before handing the offender a packet of tissues. 'I wish you the best of health.'

This time, the young man apologises and walks away.

Launched a year ago, Wang's anti-spitting campaign is one of many citywide drives to spruce up the image of the Chinese capital before the Olympics. In the past month alone, Beijing authorities have launched plans ranging from rectifying so-called Chinglish signs and menus to cleaning up smelly taxis and restricting smoking in bars and restaurants.

Earlier, officials began nurturing a culture for lining up by declaring the 11th of each month as queuing day - the number resembling two orderly files. Almost 4,000 people, mainly retired workers, low-income residents and the jobless, have been enlisted by the government to be queuing inspectors.