I bought a bicycle. I ride it to school. On the way to school, I ride bikes with the people. We ignore all traffic laws and good sense. We go when we want. We always want to go. We ride straight into oncoming traffic and make cars go around us. Most of the riders are parents with their kindergarten cargo snoozing sweetly over the back wheel of the bike. No one wears a helmet. No one. Why? Is it that the Chinese are not afraid to die? I've asked and sometimes I get an answer that starts, "there are so many Chinese…"--the theory being something like: The Borg persists, The Borg reproduces, The Borg retrenches. I do believe there is for them a deep-rooted sense of belonging to something incomprehensibly large and indestructible. They take grim comfort in that somehow. We don't think that way. We feel that when we die, the entire universe goes, or ought to go, with us.
I'm reminded of a story a few years back in the U.S.. There was a large traffic accident involving a tractor-trailer. Power lines were down. A good Samaritan tried to rescue the driver of the truck and direct people around the live wires. Then another car crashed into the scene and the Samaritan was struck on the leg with the power line. He was not shocked to death however. He survived apparently unscathed but later developed a terrible infection on his leg where the line had struck him. It turned out to be flesh-eating bacteria that somehow lived in the bird shit caked on the power line. They had to amputate his leg, and then more, and then more, and then he died. I don't know what to make of that, but it makes me want to ride hard into the teeth of oncoming traffic without a helmet.
The Campaign For Class Monitor; Or, Asians Are Obedient:
Our teacher notified us that in the coming days we would need to elect a Class Monitor. The Class Monitor is a somewhat hallowed position in Chinese academic culture. The word really means something like "Class Principal," or "Cheesy Narc" in American English. When the appointed day came, our teacher gave a brief lecture about the qualities the Class Monitor should possess and laid out some of the key duties, most of which amount to herding the class around on field trips and unnecessarily collecting personal information.
So he took a straw poll and the people voiced a strong preference for "Tan Li" (that's me). He let the rumble subside and asked the question again, as if to say, "Perhaps you didn't hear me. Who would make a good Class Monitor?" My classmates were unaware they were being advised to change their votes and thought he wanted them to shout their allegiance. Several did and were seconded by others, confirming that I was the people's champion. I protested and told them I couldn't care less whether they got lost on our field trips. This only fanned the flames of their desire. Our teacher quieted the room and explained that although I was a viable choice, I wasn't quite old enough to wield the responsibility of the Class Monitor. Furthermore, I am a bit too soft spoken to herd people around and/or I don't care to herd them. Finally he explained that one time he had a Swedish student as the Class Monitor. He said (translated from the Chinese), "Every time I wanted him to do something, he'd question me, 'why do we have to do that, or why is it necessary to get this information or make people sign this document,' that was a lot of trouble--you see, he was European and so our minds really couldn't meet, but we have a Korean student here who is older and also Asian, so he won't question me, he will do what he is told and have no problem with that. That's how Asians are and that's the sort of Class Monitor we need."
So then it was clear to everyone (3/4 of whom are Asian) that they were meant to vote Asian. And so they did.
Being Fat is Bad; Being Poor is Worse:
Learning a language requires a lot of simple examples and scenarios to make clear grammatical structures, idioms and the like. Many of our examples go something like this: "There are 2 girls (teacher draws 2 figures). One of them is what…yes, fat, and one of them is what…yes, beautiful. So then there is a man over here (draws a figure). Which one does he want?" The class responds, "The beautiful one!"
When we tire of this type of example sometimes we use this one: "There are two men, one has a lot of money (draws a huge wallet) and one of them has none (draws a small wallet). Which one will the girl want? Yes, the rich one. Correct. But then he has a lot of money, so he will be looking for what…yes, another woman, this one over here…yes, the beautiful one, not the fat one!"
The remaining examples are usually about various kinds of beatings and murder for shallow or haphazard reasons. "I don't like this guy because he's rich, so I decide to hit him, hit him, hit him…and then, what, finally he dies. Right." Or, "This guy chooses the beautiful girl (i.e. the thin one) and then the ugly one (i.e. the fat one) gets jealous right, and so the fat one kills the beautiful one…"
Sometimes we need more specificity to make the point clear. In these cases, Americans always stand in as the fat ones and the rich ones. One time the teacher took a moment to explain to the class that I don't really look American because I'm not fat. "Usually they are fat," he noted.
Conversation Overheard:
A Caucasian man, late 40's, hopelessly disheveled, wizened and wan, sitting outside Starbucks on a stone ledge. Dozens of people are within easy earshot. He is speaking to someone on his cellphone:
"I just feel really weak today, ok? I'm hurting and I'm just feeling really weak. I need you to say you love me, can you do that?....Can you do that?...Why can't you do that for me? I need you to say that…(interrupted) yes, I know, when will you come here. I need you to come to Beijing now. No, I don't need any more time to decide. I don't need more time to think it over. It's been 2, what, 3 months. Can't you just say you love me…(interrupted)…that you'll come and…why do you need more time?"
Boys At Play:
Two young boys are chasing each other around at my apartment complex. One has a brand new toy AK-47. He's in hot pursuit of the younger, smaller one. The small one has a stick with a balloon on the end. From time to time the small one turns and brandishes his balloon-rod. The bigger one tells him, "Stop or I'll shoot your ass off!" The little one stops and waits for instruction. The big one screams, "Now you will go to jail," and promptly drops his drawers and starts to piss on the little one. The little one bravely holds his ground till the stream nearly hoses him and then shouts, "I'll shoot your balls off!" before speeding off into the distance.
Domestic Dispute:
I saw one outside my apartment one day. It went like this: A man and a woman dancing on the walkway ahead of me. No, they're not dancing. He is trying to pry the woman off his body as she clings and slowly slithers down his side. They are both completely silent but wear the grimace of the earthly damned. She re-grips and shimmies up his arm a bit, her legs clamping tightly around his waist while still holding on to her giant fake Dolce and Gabbana bag. Finally, with a mighty effort and a Chinese harrumph, he peels her off and steps over her encircled limbs. She shrieks the shriek of the once-blissfully-happy…a long and quavering burst of bitterness. He tries to make a getaway but she chases him down, jumping onto his back. They resume their dance and again he pushes her down till she clings fiercely to his left foot. He steps ahead, alternately dragging her and trying to liberate his trapped limb.
Impressions of Fellow Students:
Europeans: Europeans like sunglasses. Or rather sunglasses like Europeans. They also like cheesy little moto-scooters, or the scooters like them. It's a very loving relationship.
Japanese: Between classes, they gather in small groups and smoke like chimneys. Their affect tends to be rather serious and meditative, preoccupied even. But they are given to sudden bursts of cherubic laughter which just as suddenly vanishes.
Koreans: Well-dressed, urbane and very confident, to excess in the boys. Their conversational voice is quite loud. Even Chinese people complain about that, which is the air raid siren calling the fog horn loud. They also smoke like chimneys but you get no sense of a meditative inner world here. Everything in external.
Russians: They all look gravely ill. The general affect is grim, worried, suspicious, threadbare. The female affect is plaintive and belligerent. The male affect is goofy and disheveled. The women's dress is a sort of high-fashion clown-slut chic. It looks high-fashion from afar, but the closer you get, the more you think Serbian truck-stop brothel.
Indonesians: Profoundly cheerful and lighthearted. They laugh well and often. Little seems to bother them. They eat heaps of candy. Their language seems to be comprised entirely of words with hyper-clipped syllables. It sounds like this: "Ba-da-da-ba-di-dun-do-man-a-
Americans: There are very few at my school. In my class of 15, I am the only son of Abraham. That's because Americans have shrewdly reckoned that it's really not important what's going on in China. "Let them learn American for godssake! Lord knows why all these Asians are so interested."
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