Well, things got quite polemical in my last posting when I had
originally planned to offer some light-hearted comic relief. It seems I
cannot introduce some humorous observations without first tracking down a
tangent. No matter, here are some of the things that most glaringly struck me
about my return to American soil, and it is quite a thing to be glaringly
struck; you won't look at things the same way after that.
Cranes
My family was
vacationing in Texas at the beginning of August, so I flew into Dallas-Ft.
Worth. Outside the terminal were a number of things I had not seen in
twelve months. First was the multi-story parking ramp. I never saw
a sizable parking lot in China, save those moderate parking areas attached to
the Wal-Mart and Carrefour shopping complexes. And transitioning from the
parking ramp was the aerial network of modern sculpture, the interstate and its
on and off ramps. But as we made our way from the outskirts of the city,
we passed a handful of cranes outside the airport complex, if it is possible to
quantify something so tall and massive with a handful. I sarcastically
asked, "Is that all?" Because every city I went to in China had
dozens of cranes throughout. Most of the construction was for apartment
complexes- high-rises of nearly identical shape and architecture, distinguished
by color highlights and minor architectural flairs. And there were also
many new business and commercial centers as well as hotels and hospitals being
erected. I have a Chinese friend who works as an architect in Nanjing (He
told me, "You know, Nanjing is really a city built on death. When
they built my apartment, they dug up bodies in the ground first. I didn't
know until after.") He is in the office 7 days a week (not unusual
in China) and he says he know he must rest, but the orders for new buildings
are nonstop.
Driving- not so
bad (here)
As I mentioned
before, drivers in China are so pathologically bad they deserve a diagnosis.
Or, as I agreed with a fellow expatriate overseas, they could solve
society's problem by taking all the cars to the junkyard and shredding
everyone's license. Yes, it is that bad. Being back in America, it
was refreshing, on one hand, to see drivers staying in their lanes, obeying
traffic signals, (usually) watching for other drivers, abiding by the laws and
flow of traffic, and (mostly) following the rules. On the other hand, I
was distressed to be back in a land that placed the car above all else and
built its cities and lives around it.
The streets:
Where is everybody?
When I slept at my
aunt's apartment in the city of Bengbu, the noise of the street market served
as my alarm clock. By 6 o'clock, there was a mass of people in the
streets. This meant people streaming every direction over street and
sidewalk. And against all common sense, they never bothered to check left
or right before stepping into the street unless it was to cross a major artery.
The people would just wander aimlessly in the middle of the road, only
focusing on what was immediately in front of them. The drivers were the
same, so when they approached a crowd they would start honking unceasingly
(well, they honked for every other contingency, too) and start barging their
way through. As a pedestrian, you could not count on vehicles slowing
down for you, so when an American driver (in Iowa) yielded in the middle of the
street and waved me across, I remarked, "That would never happen in China.
Never." In Chinese streets, there is a blatant disregard for
human life that would disgust me even further if I did not come from the land
of Roe v. Wade.
When my students
asked me the biggest difference between life in America and China, I would tell
them "the streets." American suburbs are organized by a house
or property, a lawn or edging, a sidewalk, a parking strip of grass with trees
lining it, and usually a two-lane street with enough space to park on either
side. When you walk down the street, or in American English, when you drive down the street, you
will hardly encounter another person unless you are downtown. Cars,
bicycles, and pedestrians each have their space (though cyclists often do not
receive respect or space, at least you would not see cars and motorcycles on
the sidewalks like I saw in Thailand and China).
China has a
free-for-all without strong boundaries. If I went out, I would pass by
chickens, street dogs, endless amounts of people, babies without diapers who
might be in the act (aided by their grandmothers, right there on the street),
piles of trash, piles of paving stones and other construction materials, food
carts and food vendors, cars, trucks, and waves of motor bikes, and if I were
passing through an area functioning as a street market, then I would pass
tables of clothes, shoes, books, vegetables, and varieties of tofu, not to
mention the farmers with their chicken cages- birds bound by the ankles in, on,
or outside the cage- and the fish sellers who cleaned and cut their fish on a
plastic tarp lying on the ground, wet with blood, water, and street filth.
No naps!
So, the Chinese
were awake and active, in large numbers (when aren't they in these?), by sun
up. This can partially be explained by the population density and the
dearth of private space for relaxation and recreation. Chinese apartments were
not woefully meager, but they had few amenities other than television and
(usually) a computer. Not so unlike America, but at least we have
carpeting, clean and drinkable water, ovens, clothes dryers, central cooling,
and central heating. Anyway, how could a non-coffee-drinking people have
such hustle and bustle so early in the morning? By taking an afternoon
nap. Businesses shut down and schools would schedule a two-hour break to
accommodate this (most of the owners and clerks "shut down" their
shops by pulling out a cot or lounger to sleep in behind the counter; wake them
up for service).
Taking a nap was
expected. When I had lunch at someone's home they would offer me a
blanket and a couch or bed to lie down on. Chinese friends might wish me
a good sleep instead of a good day. Countless times I asked students for
their hobbies and was told, "I like sleep."
How is it to live
with that kind of cultural institution? Well, besides having that down
time at lunch, I noticed that I was also sleeping better at night, and, most
surprisingly, I started dreaming on a regular basis. Before, I would
dream maybe once a month. Napping every day, I didn't dream every time I
nodded off, but it was almost a daily thing. The downside to a post-lunch
nap, for me, was compelling myself to lie down and fall asleep right away
(instead of internet surfing), and the sometimes overpowering drowsiness that I
would have to shake off at 2:00 p.m. so I could get to class. I have kept
up the napping habit in America, and my sleep schedule has had problems, but it
is better than if I didn't take a midday rest. Try it and see. And
then when you get fired for showing up late for work in the afternoon, you can
come over to my place and we will dream together.
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