3.05.2008
We are nearly settled into our new pad. All the suitcases have been cabbed over from the other side of the city; our daily commuting to work is no longer. We did a giant Wal-mart (yes, Wal-mart-- I am very ashamed) shop yesterday to get as many of the essentials we could fit into two carts: plates, cups, utensils (forks and spoons come in quantities of 1 only, and are expensive; chopsticks come in large quantities and are very cheap), bedding, towels & cleaning supplies. We carted our huge load outside to the waiting line of taxis. Colllin and I did a quick mental check of how much RMB we had on us... we think about 16 between us.. it will cost around 14 to get back to our pad. We have so much stuff that to carry it all between two pairs of arms isn't even an option. We must get dropped off directly in front of our building and take it up shifts.
We unload the carts into the trunk and the backseat. The cab driver is visibly annoyed at our mounds of goods (1,450 RMB worth, to be exact). We hop in and Collin accidentally gets the bottom of his shoe on the driver's newly covered white seats. He yells at him in Chinese, points to the scuff marks he's left. Collin rubs it off, but the permanent damage is done: this guy hates us. We ask [read: point to Chinese characters our Chinese friends wrote for us] him to head to the Haidian Theatre. The meter starts at 10 RMB and goes up 2 RMB every 2 kilometers. We live less than 4 km from Wal-mart, however, like most cabs, the meter ticks away if you sit in traffic.
It is only about 2:30 in the afternoon, but the streets are packed, as usual. We head toward the theatre near our home, and then shout "Zuo! Zuo! Zuo!" (Left! Left! Left!) when we approach the street we need to turn on. The driver turns to us and says something in confused Mandarin, which we interpret as "Left? But the theatre is straight!" We stick to our "Zuo's!" and he relents, getting into the left turn lane. We nod and say "Dui, dui" (Correct, correct) utilizing one other word from our extremely limited vocabulary. The meter hits 12 RMB. We frantically count our cash, finding we only have 15, not 16 yuan between us. We are very near our house now, turning onto our street, but our street is INSANE. I say street, but I should say market. You can buy anything and everything imaginable (and not imaginable, for that matter) on our street. People roam all over buying things, selling things, bargaining, eating, carting goods, going to their homes. From daybreak to nightfall, our street is full of people on bikes, people on foot, and cars honking and desperately trying to get through.
Which is us, right now. Desperately trying to get through before the meter clicks past 15. We are completely stressed out. Our cab driver honks repeatedly and slowly squeezes through the masses. The meter hits 14. Our street is even more crowded than usual. What is that we see? A cop car. No, two. Four? Seven?? And a news camera? This is a first.
We get passed the mess of cops and confusion. A small break in traffic. We see the hipster salon on our road, a landmark for our apartment building, in the distance. 15. We'll never make it. We can't even run up and grab more cash from our place or "tell" the driver to take us to the nearest ATM. We might end up in the back of one of those cop cars. Soon.
The driver inches forward. Honks. "Yao! Yao! Yao!" (Right! Right! Right!) we yell in unison. He turns into our complex. "JAR! JAR! JAR!" (HERE! HERE! HERE!) we stop him. He clicks the meter off. 15 RMB. We made it. By the skin of our teeth. Sighs of relief.
Such is our life here in China. Every single thing is an adventure. "Let's make a simple trip to Wal-mart." Ha. EVERYTHING is an adventure. Without resilience, a fantastic sense of humor, and an adventurous spirit, one would not last a single day in this place. We hate it. We love it. We want it to end. We want it to last longer. It is week 2 and might as well be month 2, year 2.
Everyday is a waiting adventure. What more could two young people ask for?
0 comments:
Post a Comment