Rules of the Road

Lyndsey’s Strange-but-true Sightings:

1. I have tried a plethora of new, weird foods: pig feet, pig ear, pig face (technically, slices from the cheek), spicy duck neck/throat, and duck intestine.
2. I am convinced the TV show “Ugly Betty” is slowly taking over the world. It started off as a Spanish comedy/soap opera and became so popular that America created its own version. Not too long ago I turned on the TV and started flipping channels (there’s not much I understand, so I do a lot of flipping) and started to tune into one of China’s many, many, many soap operas. The more and more I watched, I started to think, hey…this looks strangely like “Ugly Betty.” After some internet snooping I discovered, sure enough, China has launched its own version of the TV show. Go figure.
3. When some friends and I were going to see a movie, we had to pass through a wee bit sketchy hutong (old fashioned courtyard-style Chinese houses) district. In one of the alleys, I spotted a man with an outdoor grill cooking meat kabobs. The weird part? Not only was he using the grill, he was also using a hairdryer. Yup. Picture a guy, in the middle of the night, hunched over a couple of burning coals and kabobs and frantically waving a hairdryer. Yea, your guess is as good as mine on that one.
4. I’ve quickly learned that coffee has quite a different value to the Chinese than it does to Americans. For Americans, coffee is to the brain as jumper cables are to a dead car battery. It’s liquid productivity with a frothy foam on top, and the morning is going to be hell unless you pump your system full of the slow roasted power juice. The Chinese, on the other hand see coffee as a luxury drink, kind of like how Americans see hot chocolate. It’s not essential, but it tastes good and so they’ll buy it every once in a while. This mentality is perfectly manifested in the Chinese Starbucks. Xingbake, as it’s known here, doesn’t quite carry the same significance in China as it does back home. Every day I have to pass by one on the way to school, and every morning it’s never open. Want to guess when they finally start serving? 10:00 AM. Yes, you heard me right. TEN O’CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Now, Indiana isn’t exactly the business hub, but even still the Starbucks there open around 6:00/6:30 and I almost always see people waiting to get in before the building is even unlocked. When I tried to imagine what would happen if an American Starbucks decided not to open until 10:00 AM, this is what I visualized: An angry, caffeine-deprived mob of tailored suit-wearing businessmen clawing at the windows and screaming as they try to break the glass with their briefcases. A stretch of the imagination? No, no not really.
5. One day I came home early and as I was putting my stuff down in my room, I heard my grandmother shout, “Xiao Gao, Xiao Gao! Lai lai lai lai lai!!!” (“Lyndsey, Lyndsey! Come here! Come here! Come here!). So, I shuffled my way into the kitchen and there was my grandma, giving me a big smile, holding a toothbrush in one hand and waving a live crab in the other. “Look what we’re having for dinner tonight!” Um, wow, it’s so…alive. When I moved closer I saw our entire sink was full of distraught, skittering crabs. Just when I was trying to figure out where the toothbrush entered in this picture, my grandma turned on the water and began scrubbing all the crabs…with the toothbrush. “I need to clean them.” But you don’t eat the shell. “Do you want to be served a dirty crab?” Touché, grandma. After chasing after the few that managed to climb out of the sink and make a dash for freedom, all the crabs were promptly thrown into a steamer, and 20 minutes later served on the table. They were delicious, but I’ll admit it was a little weird eating something I had just seen scurrying around on the counter.

I’m going to have to rush this blog entry since three big things are coming up: 1) Today at 5:00 I leave to go on a “mobile classroom” long-weekend field trip to Pingyao, an ancient Chinese city. 2) Midterms are going to hit full force next week. 3) Did you really think I’d forget about Halloween? Psh, as if. In any case, I know it’ll be busy, so I wanted to give you all something even if it’s fast. I don’t have enough time to go into China’s minority issue today, so instead I’ll talk a bit about the traffic here in Beijing. Again, this has been a rush post so excuse any grammar or spelling errors.

I’ll admit it, the Olympics spoiled me. In an effort to clean up (literally), its image a new, temporarily law was passed in Beijing. To give environment a power-boost, the city’s traffic would be cut in half. On odd numbered days cars with a license plate ending in an odd number were allowed to be on the road, even numbered days were reserved for cars with even numbered license plates. Anyone who drove on the wrong day would get a hefty fine. It caused a lot of bickering and grumbling among the Beijingers, but it was paradise for a foreigner. The streets were eerily quiet, the cars never got into traffic jams, and taking busses was a breeze. For those of you who have Facebook, you can find a picture of me online posing in the middle of a street, just because I could. By the time I came back from the Silk Road trip, the Olympic fanfare was long gone and the monster that is Beijing traffic came back in full force.
When I mentioned earlier that by the end of the year I’d be the human equivalent of “Frogger,” I meant it. Crossing the road in Beijing can be a life or death scenario. I found this out the first day I tried to go to school after the Silk Road trip. I turned on my iPod, meandered my way out of the apartment, stepped off the curb, and almost got plastered by two cars. Needless to say, pedestrians do NOT have the right-of-way here in China. Those white stripes on the road and the flashing crossing signals are viewed as nothing more than street décor, and if you are in the way, the cars will NOT stop. They’ll turn right into you, and wait until the front bumper is within maybe four inches of your shin before they slam on the brakes and honk like mad (yes, I know this from experience). U-turns happen just about anywhere, too. In the center of a four-way crossing, in the middle of a road…if there’s enough room, it’s all good. What does this mean for the helpless pedestrian? It means even if you manage to dodge death the first time, the same car can quickly swing around and try to kill you again (again, I know this from experience). Oh, and let’s talk about the horns. Have you ever met someone that swears so much that after a while, profanity just doesn’t seem to carry any meaning or shock at all anymore? That’s what horns are like in China. Honking is done so much and for such menial reasons that it’s nothing but background noise. Usually, the honking is directed at the pedestrians. Sometimes, it has a purpose. My life has been saved a couple of times because someone honked out a warning call that death was near unless I hustled NOW. Other times, and for that matter, most times, I fail to see the point. If you are within three feet of the curb and have even the potential of crossing the road, you will get honked at. No joke, once I was standing perfectly still at a corner, maybe a good 3-4 feet away from the curb, when traffic suddenly picked up. I had no intention of crossing, but as I looked into traffic I made eye contact with a driver. He could clearly see I wasn’t going anywhere, yet just when he was starting to pass me there he went, slamming on the horn. Now, by that point unless I had launched myself in the air Superman-style, there was no possible way I was going to get hit. That’s Beijing traffic for you. So, how does one survive? I’ve developed two amazing tactics which should allow you to survive. 1) Only go halfway. Don’t be macho and try to sprint across the entire street. Wait for a gap in traffic and sprint for the dividing line. After perching there for a while (and getting honked at continuously), find another gap and make it the rest of the way. 2) When they go, you go. A good strategy is to find yourself a sturdy looking Chinese person and stick to them like glue. Essentially, mooch off of their traffic dodging skills and let them do the work for you. And hey, if you still get hit, at least you’ll have the satisfaction of making a bigger dent in the car.

Now let’s move on to public transportation. Back in Pittsburgh, I’m a public bus junkie. I take them everywhere and find them to be very convenient. Not so now. Beijing busses are the bane of my existence. When the Olympics were still going on, I thought they were great and decided not to buy a bicycle. Bad choice. Once the traffic came back, the busses became a nightmare. First of all, there is no regularity. The busses come when the spirit moves them, not according to a fixed schedule. I’ve seen three busses of the same line arrive at a stop all at once, and never appear again. I have to take two to get to school. To get to my first stop is easy because I can take one of five different busses. To get to my second stop, however, is horrible. I have to take #394, which, for all of my CMU friends, makes the Pittsburgh 59U on a Sunday look heavenly. Worse still, when I have to use the busses always coincides with Beijing rush hour. At rush hour not only are the streets packed with every sort of vehicle, but also the busses are packed full of people. It makes a sardine can look spacious. I’ve seen busses get so packed that limbs are sticking out of the doors and windows. And, unfortunately, I’ve been in such busses. The amazing thing is the Chinese have figured out a way to still facilitate movement inside the bus itself. The way the busses work is that there is one door you enter and one door you exit. If you want to get off, you have to get to the other side. This usually involves a lot of squeezing, wiggling, shoving, and pushing to get to the other side. I’ve even seen people use the hand bars like monkey bars and climb over seats in order to make it. At first I was a bit timid and was afraid to be so forceful, but then I realized how awful it is to miss your stop. Bus stops in China aren’t the same as they are in the US. I know in Pittsburgh if you miss your stop, it’s no big deal because you can just walk back one or two blocks and everything is fine. Not so in Beijing. You miss your stop, you’re looking at a good 15 minute hike at least. Not fun, especially when you’re trying to get to school on time. So when your stop is coming up, forget your manners and MOVE. I am a little ashamed to say once I had to take out an old man, but hey, he had it comin’. I was polite at first. I said “excuse me,” made eye contact, gently tapped him on the shoulder, made it clear I needed to get off the bus…no go. Well, fine then. You asked for it, buddy. I wedged my arms between him and the next person and opened up my arm span in a jaws-of-life motion, thereby plastering the two people against the windows and creating a nice, lovely open path. I made it to the door just in time. Another time I was a little too ambitious with my bolt towards the door and my plan backfired on me. I managed to perch myself in what I thought was the optimal spot, right on the stairs between the door and the railing. I had forgotten that the doors don’t open out like a door in a building; instead they fold in, like a screen. So, the door hit me on my right side and slid between me and my backpack. That shoved me over and caused the railing to slip between me and my backpack on my left side. I was trapped. Two Chinese men had to pull me out, and I managed to pop out of my public-transport-prison just in time to squeeze between the doors and fall face-flat onto my stop.

Pictures should be coming soon, guys! For those of you with Facebook, you can check out all of the albums I’ve created. For those of you that are Facebook deprived, I promise I’ll post a link soon. Until next time!