The Girl has been put in Charge of some Chinese teenagers. What these kids say speaks volumes about Chinese propaganda, education and youth culture. It's also pretty funny.
Myspace.comT:What food do you like?
S: KfC
T:Why?
S:Because it is good for you.
T: What?
S: It makes you fat. And fat people are healthy.
T: Really?
S: Yes, American people are fat
T: American people are fat? Am I fat?
S: A littleT: What do you hate?
S: I hate Japanese.
TA gets upset. Not because he hates Japanese but because he pernounced hate wrong. HMMMmT: Whats your name?
S: Jack
T: Jack, Do you have a girlfriend named Rose.
S: No!
Class erupts with laughter. The first time I have told a joke and the kids actually got it and laughed.T: Do you like Fast food?
S: USA!
T: What???
S: USA!
T: United states of America
S: Yes!
T: What?? Sit down.T: What is your favorite sport?
S: Basketball
T: Who is better at basketball? Michael Jordan or you?
S: Me
T: Really? WHy?
S: Because I am Chinese.
T: You are better at basketball because you are Chinese.
S: Yes.
T:What is your favorite food?
S: KFC
T: Why?
S: Because it is popular
T: If it was popular to get hit by a car would you like it?
S: Yes
T: What does popular mean?
S: It means that I like it very much.T: What do you hate?
S: I hate noise.
T: But China is very loud.
S: Yes
Poor, poor child.T:What is your favorite food?
S: Pizza
T: Why?
S: Because it is tasty
T: Are American people tasty?
S: Yes
T: Do Chinese people eat American people?
S: no
T: But you said American people are tasty. Have you ever eaten one.
S: Yes
T: You have eaten an American person?
S: yes
Class erupts with laughter
S: Shamaeetza! Scratches head.T: Whats your favorite food?
S: American fast food
T: Is American Fast food different from french, German, Australian, English fast food?
S: Yes
T: How?
S: It is the best.
T: Why
S: My friend told me.
>>Do you guys know enough Chinese to order food in >>china-town?
yes and no. If the chef is a mandarin (or putonghua) speaker than we are an asset. However, I believe much of Chinatown is Cantonese. Ask around and if there's a good putonghua speaking restaurant and we'll make a date of it and introduce you to the wonders of yu xiang rou si and jia chang doufu.
>>Could you read me a fortune cookie or Confucian
>>Odes in Chinese?
probably not. I only know about a hundred characters and only about fifty of those do I know how to say and what they mean.
>>How does all the Chinese swill taste?
Chinese booze is terrible. They make a passable brandy and some of the worst red wine in the world. It tastes like cysco. The best red wine is usually described as inoffensive.
The Chinese favoritist booze is called baijiu,which literally means white wine. Really it's made from sorgum and it tastes like vodka that hates you. It smells like compost and makes you feel hungover before you feel drunk. You can pick some up at Ranch 99 if you want to cause people to hate and fear you.
>>Can you guys cook me Chinese food when you get back?
probably. I'm gonna buy a rice cooker and start practicing more.
>>Can you sent me Chinese girls to hang around my
>>apartment and take care of things?-of things!!!
Scarily, I believe the answer to this is yes.
>>Tell me something useful; it doesn't even have to >>have anything to do with china or Chinese anything? >>Is tricky music a band?
There is Chinese band called I Like Tricky Music. It isn't bad.
>>Do you guys feel like giants now that you live in >>china?
yes
>> Freaks?
sometimes.
>>Do they have any pizza in China?
yes. It is not very good. Frequently ketchup is used as tomato sauce and as a dipping sauce for pizza.
>>How is the teaching going?
Not bad. My children are bratty but cute.
>>Do either of you think that you'll do it again or not a chance?
Yes. I would love to teach an older crowd.
>>How long do you think it will be until you eat Chinese
>>food again once you get home?
I believe I will miss Chinese food immediately when I get home. American Chinese food is plenty awesome but it has only a slight resemblence to Chinese Chinese food. There is no Chinses barbeque back in the states, and Chinese (I suppose it's technically Xinjiang) barbeque is good enough to hurt.
>>How is your living quarters?
livable. dirty.
>>Does China sparkle at night?
Yes. Every building gets flashy lights. Frequently what we would assume is a bar or a disco turns out to be a bank.
>>Do you guys know what they do with those dried fish?
They just eat them, I think.
>>What are your plans when you come back?
School, for both of us.
This is a quote that I want to remember when people ask me about China back home. Minus the mixed metaphor, though.
China: What a carve-upThe legal vacuum doesn't just create a loophole, but also a noose, which tightens retroactively as soon as an entrepreneur or government official has annoyed someone more powerful than himself . . .
The Running Dog knows its China. Everything here is technically illegal. Since the police can not possibly (and do not want to) enforce everything, the only thing that's actually illegal is pissing off someone in power.
Imagine what Chinese economic growth figures would be like with a functioning legal system.
Grasslands.
That's our name for the restaurant right next to work. There is, I suppose, nothing to distinguish it from a thousand other restaurants dishing out "farmer food" other than exceptional quality and friendliness. Like many Chinese restaurants it is family run. There is a mother (I don't know her name, I just call her Big Sister) and her two sons. The taller, friendlier of her sons is called Han Bing (said with the same tones, I believe, as if he were a type of Korean pancake). He's a med student when he's not working at the restaurant. He's young and earnest and hence nicknamed, "Doogie Howser."
Grasslands is one of the best things about life in Dongying. Han Bing and Big Sister teach us useful Chinese and put up with our western quirks. We also help Han Bing with his English homework. We force every visitor to eat there.
One such visitor was Heather. Heather is a friend of a friend. A Chinese-American whose parents where both from Guangdong province, she spoke no Mandarin. I think she could get by in Cantonese.
Being a non-speaking Asian American in China can generate some amusing/ exasperating experiences. There were taxi drivers that insisted on trying to talk to her rather than Shelley (who is totally fluent) and other bits of confusion.
Then there was her trip to Grasslands. She was introduced to Han Bing and Big Sister, and they found out that she couldn't speak Mandarin and was from America. Big Sister said something and Han Bing translated, "She doesn't like you."
Heather was, I think, too shocked to be properly upset.
Chinese people can be amazingly blunt. They'll call you fat, tell you have a big nose, point and laugh at your hair . . . the list goes on.
Heather was shocked, but the food arrived and no more issue needed to be made of it. But when we got to the plate of caramel covered apples, Han Bing decided to clarify.
"I like you," he said, pointing to me, "and you and you," to Elizabeth and Jessie.
And that was the end of the list.
I have an inkling of where this kind of sentiment comes from. Perhaps they feel that Chinese Americans have abandoned the homeland. Perhaps they suspect them of being Guomindang or Guomindang sympathizers.
Yet to understand is not to sympathize. This will forever remain one of those things about China that I just can't get used to. Like when my fourth graders take turns taunting each other by saying, "you are a black, black man from Africa."
Shelley arrived later and told Han Bing that they had hurt his friend's feelings. Han Bing apologized in a not-really-understanding-why-he-apologized way. Things have been less family-like since then. Sometimes good things go away.
1. New Years/ Spring Festival - yes, yes it's noisy and it's dangerous, but it's also one big who-gives-a-damn party. It's also really touching to see a family gathered around for the first night dumplings.
2. Movies - I love the lack of restraint in Chinese movies be it in psychotic gong fu pictures or screw ball comedies. China and I seem to agree about a lot of things cinematic: car chases should destroy as many things as possible and fat people being hit by things are funny.
3. Tofu - Chinese doufu dishes are proof that vegetarians should not be allowed to cook anything. I thought tofu was a waste of time until I had it stirfried with red oil and pork. Now it's my favorite thing to eat.
4. Xinjiang Barbeque- mmmmm. lambstick.
5. Politeness - I actually really dig that the Chinese don't say please and thank you all the time. Politeness is like swearing, if you save it for a special occasion, it has more impact.
6. Beer - Chinese beer tops out at 5 percent so in order to actually get drunk you have to drink for an hour and take on enough water weight to simulate a pregnancy. But it does have that tasty spring water and it compliments the barbeque perfectly.
T.A.: Is there anything I can get for you?
Me: shi, gei wo yige baoze
T.A.: What are you saying?
Me: uhh . . . ni zhidao . . .baoze [points to bag] . . . for . . . zheige [points to a felt fuzzy dice].
T.A: [walks off, possibly in search of a bag]
Shelley: You just asked her for a dumpling to put the dice in.
There have been rumours of this sort of thing going on in Dongying. This is hardly a confirmation of their substance, but it does make me nervous.
The New York Times > International > Asia Pacific > Chinese Censors and Web Users Match WitsAlready the most sophisticated in the world, China's Internet controls are stout even in the absence of crucial political events. In the last year or so, experts say the country has gone from so-called dumb Internet controls, which involve techniques like the outright blocking of foreign sites containing delicate or critical information and the monitoring of specific e-mail addresses to far more sophisticated measures.
Newer technologies allow the authorities to search e-mail messages in real time, trawling through the body of a message for sensitive material and instantaneously blocking delivery or pinpointing the offender. Other technologies sometimes redirect Internet searches from companies like Google to copycat sites operated by the government, serving up sanitized search results.
Shelley says that The Running Dog is a goodness. And it is.
Lord, if the Chinese didn't put Saddam on a slipperI had come upon the single fuzzy yellow slipper walking through the supermarket across the street from my apartment in uptown Shanghai. Quickly, I searched through the metal bin of slippers for another shoe to make the one I already had a pair. Finding nothing, I recruited two middle-aged lady store clerks to help me look, but never found a partner for the slipper. On top of that, the store refused to sell me the one shoe that was left, as there was no price tag or any sort of serial number on it. In the end, it seemed, the fuzzy yellow slipper, like the man whose likeness graced its lid, was a despot that did not play by the rules, that could not be bought or bargained for, but had to be stolen.
It may sound like Lao Wei complain a lot about the missing comforts of home. It sounds that way because we do.
But do not mistake that, because I think most of us love it in China. Not only that but absence does work up a fine appreciation for some of the things back in the developed world.
To quote the girl, "I never knew a hamburger could make me happy for an entire night."
What I'm getting at is that I recently took a trip to Beijing. Actually it was more like a four day orgy of food, booze and destruction.
Yeah. These are a few of my favorite things:
thai food
cheap whiskey in about any form desired (except Maker's Mark, damnit!)
absinth
dancing to Anglophone hip hop and electroclash
no bouncy dancefloors
sourdough bread
cheeseburger (not a breakfast sausage patty in a bun)
cheesecake
cheese (noticing a theme?)
a fair attempt at pizza
decent cd shopping (Grandaddy, Sonic Youth and the Rapture)
guiness
qingdao black
dim sum
duck sandwich with big thick french fries cooked properly
good coffee every day
real diner breakfast
I was lent an old issue of Fortune magazine with an article on little emperors. The article was an excellant piece of culture reporting and I think it fairly nailed the odd universe of the new middle class Chinese children, whose every want is gratified and who are expected to pull an atlas's weight.
Unfortunately the article requires a subscription, registration and form fields. This companion photo essay is free, though and I believe it tells a lot of story on its own.
Class was minutes away from starting, when my TA, Amy II, walks up to me. She had the usual TA look on her face: one of grave earnestness.
She said to me, "you know the little boy, Richard?"
"Yes," I said, expecting her to tell me that he had dropped the class. Richard was learning very slowly, as were most children in this particular class. Richard's pronunciation though, was exceptionally horrible. I do not spend a lot of time drilling Richard. There are reasons for that. Reasons that are obvious when he is happy or when he is trying to bite another student. Richard has no teeth. Many sounds are simply not available to him.
Richard and I, I feel like we have an understanding. He's not ever going to be a star student and I'm not ever going really get on his case about it. No teeth, you know.
Still if his parents feel like he should wait until a time when he can produce a nice "the" to continue with English education.
"His father has died." she said.
"oh," I said, totally, reasonably unprepared for such news. It did not take long for my brain to be filled with sympathy for a little boy and thinking through of consequences.
"Is he coming to class?" I asked the question, more than half knowing the answer.
"Of course," said Amy. Chinese TAs are from a friendly, earnest, naive planet. It's just not the planet you or I are from.
"That's ridiculous." I said, probably choosing a word outside her vocabulary.
"Maybe you could give him some fatherly advice," she tells me. I am overwhelmed by having to contemplate so many disperate things so quickly: anticpation of a drop, sympathy for a boy, the madness of his relatives and now the bizarre psychological malfunctioning of my TA.
Richard is not of my quickest students. Even so, I'm not sure I know more Mandarin than he knows English.
My absurded brain had a brief, grave image of myself and a five year old sitting down.
"Spoon," I would say to him.
"Monkey," he would respond sadly.
I would nod and pat his head, "lambstick, lambstick."
He would look up, as if to ask why, but would instead ask, "is it a banana?"
"No. It isn't."
I did not know how to answer my TA, and did not.
Today l learned Chinese for "electrical fire" (dian luzi), " we have no power" (dian mei you) and "is he an electrician?" (ta shi diangong ma).
The words I really wanted to say were "Is that guy REALLY an electrician?" but my level of Chinese has no room for such subtleties as incredulity and irony. The guy in question was fussing around with a malfunctioning fuse box with only one hand because he didn't want to put down his cigarette. He burned himself, frst with the cigarette then with the fuse. I'm going to assume that diangong is an easier title to obtain than electrician. Perhaps diangong means guy who is who is frequently electricuted but rarely on fire.
The diangong was accompanied by what might have been an assistant, but surely his job title would truthfully be gawker. Obviously the man was not fit to hold the diangong's cigarette because he did not even do that.
I also mastered "let's go" (women zuo ba) though the equivalent phrase for "let's get the hell out of here!" would have been more what I was looking for.
I am happy to report that the power is on, the school is not burned down and the diangong is still alive.
So near the end of one of my classes, a kid comes up. He asks, (one of the few Chinese sentences I know by heart) "can you speak English?"
This kid is five years old, he's been getting english classes for 9 straight weeks.
He is one of the kids that, when shown a flashcard, will call out the answer in Chinese, then look at me expecting approval. As if he were being tested on his knowledge of, say, cutlery.
SO perhaps the kid doesn't realize that he's been in an English class. Maybe he just doesn't know why a foreigner has been coming to his school and shouting nonsense at him. This is probably a terrifying, inexplicable universe that the kid lives in.
"Wow kid. You are not smart. Good try though."
Gradual reform of the Chinese peg probably means: the currency will be permitted to fluctuate in a band. It also means that the currency may be pegged loosely to a number of currencies. Convertability seems a bit muckier.
As it stands, China has capital controls that should enable it have both a monetary policy and a fixed exchange rate. But, these controls have been in place for a number of years and the black market for other currencies is both well-devoloped and brazen. In many cities the black market walks around in front of the Bank of China outlets. Who knows how effective they are?
There is also the fact that, despite being one of the oldest civilizations on earth, China has not figured out how to make things properly illegal. In the west it is understood that if something is illegal it should be at least properly underground. In China, something may be illegal and totally commonplace: hookers, fireworks and currency exchange being rather prominent. Most of the street vendors operate illegally. A goodly number of taxis seem to be unregistered. The list goes on.
I'm all for a gradualist appraoch to currency reform. Just letting in the hoards of foreign capital is a dangerous proposition. But really at any given moment a banker has got to be making decisions based on price stability, employment or the exchange rate. He can't do all three. The Chinese government is going to need to decide which is more important (hint: it's not the exchange rate). It's also going to need to realize that it's going to need to decide. I'm not sure it knows that right now.
China, we have some things to talk about.
First of all, China, let me reassure you that I do indeed hear you. So you can stop with the firecrackers and the honking and the trance music.
Yes, China. It's true. I am a foreigner.
Indeed. My native tongue does sound hilarious. Yes, my appearance and attributes are comical.
China, I am not interested in the shiny array of of useless trinkets on your blanket.
Your use pulsating techno does nothing to lure me into your clothes boutique, China. Neither your shouting DJ, relentlessly clapping clerks nor your terrifying Russian manequins shall make any progress on that front.
No, China. I do not wish to buy a flower.
Why, yes China I have heard of AMWAY. No. No, I don't know who AMWAY's CEO is. No, I also didn't know that it is the 17th largest cojmpany in the US.
No. I do not wish to purchase some soap.
Sure, China. I would like to purchase a coke. Actually I would like it to be cold. Yes, that is quite funny isn't it?
Alright, and let's get it over with.
Yes, hello China.
Dongying is a nice place. It's slightly rustic, it has small town friendliness. But it ain't Beijing.
In Beijing you should not worry about the authentic Chineseness of your experience. Beijing is one of the great international cities and it has made it's own culture which is part Chinese part import and part something else again.
It has plenty of highminded culture for touristing about. Shrines, edifices, palaces, events and temples. These places give you a texture to feel history. Have a mind though. History is slightly gross and in the north capital it is gratuitously so. All of these wonders were built by despotic emperors, uncaring colonials and power mad dicatators. Too much Chinese history can be overwhelming.
I feel no remorse over my preferences of shopping eating and drinking over the highminded stuff. Nothing against the high minded stuff, really. China has an awful lot of history. But if you want to know about Beijing today, you should haggle with it, dine with it and get a bit toshed with it.
That's why my favorite trips in Beijing are to the silk market and to sanlitun. The silk market is just a crowded little alley filled with (pretty good) designer knock-offs. Things can be very cheap but you have to work for it. In fact, battle for it. Cheap clothes come with a satisfaction of having haggled someone down from eight times the price they first offered. The first offer they make is usually totally absurd, basically an attempt to get you to reveal exactly how much you are willing to pay. Meeting them halfway is not victory. My advice is figure out however much you are willing to pay beforehand and do not budge from it. Be rude, walk away and be fierce. Remember: you haven't really done well unless they accuse you of cheating them.
Buying little knickknacks is pretty easy. Just walk near an obvious tourist location and take home what you want. Black market DVDs are absurdly cheap (10 quay per). Buying recent releases pretty much guarantees an ugly camcorder version.
Sanlitun is the literally the bar street. The main bit on the south side is overpriced, middle class and filled with prostitutes. Blah, blah and ick. The real fun is to be had on the side alleys and the dirty area around Durty Nellies. Cheap whiskey(15 quay), cheaper chinese beer (5-10 quay), an interesting assortment of exiles and expats. We had a great time at Poacher's, whihc was refreshingly free of trance and saccharine mandopop. I'm not sure when the place closes, but I left at 3:30 a.m.
Eating is what I'm all about. It's also what Beijing is also all about. Any type of cuisine, international or regional, is available. The Thai and Japanese food are excellant.
The Chinese food is what your there for. It's cheap and plentiful and fantastic. There's the familiar Cantonese and Sichuan style, the mouth abusing Hunan style. My favorite is Xinjiang. It's got some heavy Indian and Middle Eastern influences and it's tough to find in Dongying. It's got naan and spicy lamb and saucy, noodle filled stews. The lamb kabobs are the rage everywhere but the rest of it is a rare treat.
It's touristy and absolutely choked with laowei but food court at the bottom of Wangfujing is pretty good food and a pretty fun experience. For thirty quay you can load up on a variety of styles, all cooked fresh.
Of the highminded stuff, the best I've done was visit the Yonghe Lama Temple, despite the strange feelings stirred up by the intermingling of gawking tourists and praying pilgrimsSometimes the distinction between pilgrim and tourist is a bit muddy, I saw a nun pray before a shrine and the have her picture taken in front of it). I am ardently irreligious, but watching someone's beliefs turned into a tourist's curio feels a bit depraved.
The Lama Temple is Tibetan and that makes it as beautiful and byzantine as you've heard. The rough bit is that I'm just as bad as the Chinese tourists who scoff while others pray. All religions have a kind of cognitive dissonance between creed and history but the horse warrior buddhists should win some sort of prize for it.
Tiananmen square is a big, goddamn square with a big, goddamn picture of Mao above it. It also has Mao's mauseleum in it (the Maoseleum, as I like to call it) but you can't go in there. Not that I was really interested in paying my respects to any crazy dead dictators any way. The only thing that I came away from Tiananmen with was an intensified horror at the thought of tanks driving through the area with hostile intent.
The Forbidden Palace is the only thing in China other than Baiju that gets universally hostile reviews. People do seem to like the Great Wall tour, but I'm told that the tour intended for Chinese tourists is a real horror shoe where you are taken in a ski lift above a remodeled section of wall while easy listening is piped in.
The nice thing is that even with the stuff that you hate, and the stuff that disappoints you, there's still a ton left after that.
>So, Otis?
Yeah.
>Haven't heard from you in a while.
Yeah.
>Tell us about your new apartment.
I'll tell you something about our apartment. Something that will make everything else you wil hear just so much sauce.
>Okay
This morning I thought it would be funny to play "mile end" on our shitty speakers. Claire complained. I think it was too close to real and not enough close to joke.
>That bad?
All Chinese apartments are bad. Each has it's peculiar badnesses. We are just getting to know ours.
>Cockroaches?
Check.
>Plumbing?
The toilet came apart in my hands. We got it replaced, but the new one doesn't seem to, you know, work. We couldn't find a plunger at the grocery store.
>Electric?
Some sockets work sometimes. Some don't ever.
>Hot water heater?
It's either off or causing nerve damage.
>Dirt?
The landlady did not clean it before she gave it over. THere is a layer of dirt and grease on just about everything. The toilet installation guy took off after leaving a pile of rubble in the bathroom.
>Random junk?
A bonanza of it. Several hats, a toy model of the Hubble, bunches of maps of China (oh, THAT's where I live), mysterious jars of liquid and plenty of good old styrofoam. Oh, and a computer left over from the Qing dynasty.
>So you're pretty unhappy?
Oddly enough, no. An awful lot of time is going to be spent fighting with my apartment but I don't think it's as bad as all that.
Last night, for instance I tapped my laptop into the computer speakers, took a shot of baiju and put on The Clash. For some reason, I was really happy.
I'll have to get back to you on why. Right now, I just don't know.
Trance music sucks in China in exactly the same way it sucks in America. Trance music is the dark, sucking core of the universe around which all things are sucked.
There is small hope for China, musically. You hear trance everytime you walk by a store and I've seen more pictures of Kenny G than of Mao (oy, imagine the cultural revolution that puts his face in front of the square). I hadn't even known there was such thing as an Irish boy band before I moved here, but now I find their countenence more comforting than the ubiquitous face of the fucker who owns California Beef Noodle USA.
The western music that is loved here makes me cringe. I've heard Hotel California more times than I can count. Elton John could declare himself emperor of China if he so wished and I don't think the party would dare oppose him. I've even heard Nickelback in two different places, goddamnit. As a westerner I am expected to know the words to Fernando and Country Roads. I had never even heard Fernando until I came here.
Then there's actual Chinese music. I'm going to come out as a philistine and admit that I would rather undergo Chinese oral surgery than undergo Chinese Opera. Pop music is better by a difference that makes no difference. Cantonese and Taiwanese pop sounds like The Neptunes at best and at it's worst sounds like what it would be like to die of cloying sentimentality.
This is why yesterday I was surprised by something. Yesterday, when we were shopping for pirated movies (oh, shut it) I found the western section. Yes, the gang of four was there (The G, John Tesh, Elton John and The Eagles) but on the bottom rack there was something else. There was The Clash. There was Mum and Lamb. There was an assload of Pixies cds. There was Leonard Cohen. I was dumbfounded and delighted. The selection was not very good, but Christ it was a sight better than I ever expected to see.
My standards for western food have already fallen.
My only complaint about eating at KFC last night was that it was overpriced. At 20 yuan, you should have hostesses in traditional-looking Chinese dresses and the chef (wearing his puffy hat) should slice the meat at your table.
I've also eaten some dreadfully questionable ice cream. I used to turn up my nose at Cold Stone, but now I would welcome one. I can't really hang with Chinese desserts, they utilize too much bean paste. So cheap, crappy ice cream has become something of a necessity.
Claire says we are going to feel embarassed about coming back from a developing country, fatter than ever.
I've got further to fall still. There is a hotel here that serves something that resembles pizza, hamburgers and spaghetti. The pizza might have corn and cucumbers on it unless you are careful. The burgers are wrong in a way that I can't quite put my finger on, and I'm afraid of trying the spaghetti. Claire and I find it rather ill, but to Shelley and Chris (who have lived abroad for much, much longer) it is warming comforting warmth and comfort.
I understand where they are coming from. Eating really spicy, greasy (though usually tasty) Chinese food for nine meals in a row can feel exhausting. Even one familiar (though ill-prepared) dish can seem refreshong.
Asians can't drive.
Ah yes, it's horrrible and horribly racist to believe that. Yet, here I am surrounded by Asians failing to drive.
Okay, that's a bit untrue. Chinese traffic has a different style to it, one quite alarming to western sensibilities. A double yellow line means next to nothing. Traffic cops are mocked contemptuously. Right of way isn't really a useful concept. Driving on the sidewalk? Sure, if you need to.What you do is you go when you want to and hope other people get out of the way. Seriously.
It does seem to work.
See, I'm used to traffic where there are rules and you expect people to obey the rules. Sure, in the back of your mind you realize that someone might do any crazy ass thing, but the rules are expected. Deviation from the rules can surprise, cause accidents.
In China there's no such expectation. Driving is slower (and a bit sparser, I might add) and the crazy radar is set on sensitive. When u-turns accross five lanes of traffic and a double yellow line are common place, there is nothing really too unexpected to expect.
Crossing the street is one of those terrifying alien things about China that you have to get used to. In fact is was the first terrifying an alien thing that I got used to. Generally it is done one lane at a time but with a nice steady, predictable pace. Crosswalks don't seem to matter. Pedestrian right of way is reduced to the principle of "I'll switch lanes in order not to hit you." And guess what? You probably aren't going to win any lawsuits if you get hit.
I never thought that one could stop walking in the middle of six lanes of downtown traffic "carefully."
Neither blogspot nor livejournal are accessible from within China. I hope this does not mean I will lose track of Claire and Josh F. utterly.
SWYDM is aok, possessing neither revolutionary impulse nor political impact, I suspect. Crumpled and Cornertable escape notice and are accessible.
The party doesn't care, but I am watching you.