I have been lucky enough to find a couple workout partners here in China, and they are both fellow teachers. One of them is even an early riser and we run every Monday morning at 8AM (this is like Saturday morning for me and my schedule). As I’ve hinted at, there are as many, if not more, scooters/motorized bikes in China than cars. This is the low and middle class form of transportation around China, and they are everywhere. There is even a special lane on most roads designated only for scooters. Now, the direction isn’t always clear. Technically, there is a natural direction to travel in, but going the opposite way isn’t looked down upon. Also, if this lane is too full or congested, using the sidewalk isn’t against the rules either. In Europe, people come to screeching halts for pedestrians. In China, they pretend to see something interesting over to the right/left and run over you. As we run each week, people are always screaming “Lao Wei!!!” (Foreigner!) at us, as if we don’t know we’re foreigners. Sometimes I laugh, sometimes I’m super annoyed, and sometimes I give them the downtown, in the hood “yo, what’s up” head nod, just to see their reaction. Pretty soon, I think I might run yelling “Chinese!” at everyone that passes and see how they feel. For the ones that don’t yell at us, they just stare. They come up from behind us on their scooters, look at us, continue looking back at us, juuust to the point that they are ready to collide with someone/thing, and they take their eyes off us, swerve around a bit, and continue on their way. I laugh everytime. I shouldn’t wish bad things upon people, but I’m looking forward, a bit, to the day they run into something and go flying off their scooter because they were so preoccupied with the two white people out for a morning run.
Speaking of running, the Chinese don’t do it. Not like you and I think of running anyway. In the six weeks I’ve been in China, I can count on one hand the people I have seen out for a run, like fitness style. No wonder we get stared at. Now, we see plenty of old people out for some morning tai-chi and weird kalistenics, but nothing that would increase your heart rate more than picking up a 10 pound bag of rice. Now if we’re talking about running in general, all Chinese women run. Everywhere. Everyday. For no apparent reason. But this is more, arms straight down at your sides, legs together down to your knees, awkward imgonnapoopmypants running. One of the teaching assistants at my school, working in a different room, will coming running in to pick up something off the printer. They’re not in a hurry. This is just an accepted form of movement from point A to point B. Considering one of my college part-time jobs was training high school athletes how to improve their running form and speed to improve their sprint times, I just have to look away and go to my happy place when the chinese start running around the office.
Last week, my roommate and I moved into a new apartment that opened up and was considerable better than the one we started in. It’s very nice, but we’re still finding all the little quirks that need to be fixed, etc. One of these little quirks happens to be the toilet. Yes, we have a western style, sit down and relax, toilet, but it was clogged almost immediately after moving in. (For no obvious reasons, I assure you). No problem, call the plumber. Plumber comes, plumber fixes toilet. Three days later, for no obvious reasons, the toilet is plugged. Hm. That’s inconvenient. A couple of the Chinese staff from our school come over to check things out, the toilet being on the list. They tell us that this problem was there before, it’s not new, and that we shouldn’t put the toilet paper in the toilet. Oh? We should….do what with it exactly? We can go to the bathroom, but even the slightest bit of toilet paper will plug it up? We must throw our toilet paper away? Agnes and I just look at each other trying not to react, both thinking to ourselves, no way am I doing that. The first thing that comes to my mind is now, wait a minute, occasionally, and naturally I must add, there will be ‘bigger’ things than toilet paper going down that toilet drain. And the toilet paper is the issue? Then, because I don’t generally use the squatters at the school, I just noticed last week that there is a small trash can in the squatter stall, full of toilet paper. Ohh…so that explains it. Often, there is no toilet paper in the squatter stalls. But, if there is, we won’t throw it down the toilet, we throw it in the small trash can. I’m at a loss for words. I have nothing more to say on this topic.
Undiscovered Sunsets 