Feel like reading something beside the news of the election?
If you'd like to know what life looks like through our eyes in these last months, allow me to enlighten you...
It's almost always foggy. Looking across over the trees and the buildings, you can see the hazy outline of mountains in the distance. On a clearer day, you may be able to distinguish individual mountains, but usually they just form a shadowy gray backdrop behind a city cloaked in mist.
Everywhere you go, there are people. It's overwhelming how many people surround you daily, as is the awareness that you will never see most of them ever again. It hits me hardest on days when it rains. On a rainy day, the streets all become an enormous colorful sea of umbrellas. Even more overwhelming is the uniformity. At home, I notice the people who are different. Here, I can't help but notice that everyone is the same. The phrase "needle in a haystack" carries so much more meaning now. An unfortunate byproduct of so many people is pollution. Some days we aren't sure if the hazy sky is just fog or if it is smog. Usually we just tell ourselves it is only fog and try not to think about it. Our city is remarkably clean, but when we visited Wuhan, a bigger city, garbage filled the streets. I can't say that I ever spent much time thinking about or being concerned about pollution, but here I am often.
Every morning there is a small "market" set up in the parking lot of our apartment building. People, presumably farmers from the countryside, lay their produce on blankets on the ground in hopes that passersby will take notice of their wares. Some of them have chairs, but most sit in a traditional Chinese squat. The squat has become a very familiar sight for us, but is still nearly impossible for us in practice. A middle-aged Chinese man is able to sit in this torturous pose for what seems like hours; we foreigners can barely manage to achieve it for ten seconds. We waiguoren assume that the Chinese are capable of this due to a lifetime of using Chinese toilets...apparently the "squatty potty" is good for more than just one thing.
After passing the morning market, I begin my daily hike to class. One thing that has not yet ceased to amaze me is how cheery and animated chinese people are in the morning. As I stumble to class in a somnolent stupor, students all around me skip to class, arm in arm with their friends, perkily slurping spicy breakfast noodles, and chatting in a manner I can't understand, not only because I don't speak chinese, but because in my daze, I fail to comprehend a reason for their exuberance.
No matter how many times my eyes are given the privilege, I doubt I will ever grow accustomed to the sight of the implementation of the Chinese method of potty-training. Diapers are simply not used in China. Instead, babies and toddlers wear "kaidangku," literally "open-crotch-pants." Using this method just means that when you gotta go, you gotta go. When nature calls, parents assist their children in the baring of their nether regions in order to do their business. One China Daily article I read called it "maximum convenience with minimum coverage."
Yet another visual marvel awaits us at every supermarket, specifically the meat section. Your first glance goes immediately to the bloody chunks of animal flesh hanging from hooks above the counter; open to the air, and dripping bacteria-filled juices on everything unfortunate enough to be placed below it. Turning around immediately, desperate to put an end to your germ-induced panic attack, you come face to face (literally) with an unsightly army of lifeless, naked chickens. You squeeze through the aisle, carefully avoiding the dozens of fowl feet that seem to claw after you, all the while nervously aware that their empty, glassy eyes are watching your every move. The next view, however, is far from reassuring. The shopper is next presented with a bed of ice filled with a strange array of animal viscera. One can only guess about the identities of what appear to be stomachs, intestines, and hearts...not to mention the feet of various creatures sprinkled in between. Weary and slightly queasy, you attempt to escape from Old MacDonald's Massacre. Just as you think you have broken free, your eyes are greeted with a completely foreign section -- fish, reptiles, and amphibians. Unlike the graveyard you just experienced, these animals are all fresh -- fresh and alive. Aquariums full of enormous fish, shrimp and prawns, squid, and huge, writhing eels are all equipped with nets for your convenience. Opposite from them are bins filled with slimy frogs giant turtles, and piles of crabs. Again, each bin contains a pair of tongs so that you may choose for yourself which creature will be dinner tonight.
Perhaps the most familiar sight in our daily adventures is the sight of small, curious, black eyes looking right back at us. Staring is not a rude practice in China, and even if it were, I'm not sure they would be able to help themselves. The sight of a foreigner on the streets of China is as rare as the sight of sunshine. The eyes that meet ours seem to scour our entire bodes; black circles filled with wonder at everything so different from what is familiar. Passersby immediately stop their conversations to make the most of the rare opportunity to behold the strange and exotic creature that is the foreigner. Seeing their reactions, we continue on our way, reflecting on our small glimpse of the world beyond our home.
