Honk if You're Alive!

3.31.2008

HONK!! HOOONNKK!!! HON-HON-HONKKK!

I swear to jebus if one more person honks at me, I will--

HONK!!!!!

Deep breaths, Tracy. Take deep breaths.

I power walk down our street. [Or should I say market? Or marketplace? Or barber shop-produce market-butcher shop-bakery-trinket stop-pharmacy-locksmith-grocery store-restaurant-massage parlor-liquor store? Times four.] Our street is not regulation size-- it is more like a wide alley-- and clearly there is not enough room for all this activity + car traffic + people rushing by on bike and foot. The sidewalk goes and comes without warning or reason; it is hardly a safe haven for pedestrians. I jump up on it anyway, completely convinced that one more "honk!" will drive me over the edge.

HONK!!

What the.... ?? Did I seriously just get honked at on the sidewalk??

I turn around to see a long, skinny van directly behind me. On the sidewalk.

Only in China.



I have come to expect to be honked at in every imaginable place in this city. In fact, as I lounge comfortably on my couch in our living room right now, I would not be surprised if my peaceful writing was interrupted by an invasive horn. The saddest part about this is not that being honked at in my living room wouldn't startle me, but that it wouldn't even phase me at all. I would simply pick up and move into my bedroom and let the vehicle pass through to the kitchen.

It wasn't always like this though. There was a time in my life that being honked at infuriated me. Even if I was clearly in the way of someone, it would still get under my skin. Who honked? Did you just honk at ME? Surely they didn't just seriously honk at me.

The first time I was honked at in China, I was a bit caught off guard. The honking is incessant everywhere you go, but the first one truly directed at me was still disturbing. Whoa, whoa, whoa... can't you see I'm not from around here? How was I supposed to know that cars don't yield to pedestrians?

I began to get used to this whole idea that 'cars have the right-of-way.' I pondered aloud to Collin one day, after about a week into our adventure, "Well, I guess, if you think about it, if people had the right-of-way in China, cars wouldn't be able to get anywhere. Ever."

Then I got honked at again. The light I was facing turned red. Alright, its my turn to walk. A blaring horn told me otherwise. As the car sped past my toes, I remembered a small passage in a guide book my mother gave me for Christmas: "The easiest way to get killed in Beijing is to step out in the street and try to cross right after a light turns red." Oops. Shoulda dog-eared that page. So not only do cars not yield to us people on foot, but they do not have to yield to us when the light is red. They can make a right turn on red (just like in America) but they don't have to stop or even slow down before they turn (just not like America). Alright. Dually noted.

And then, I got honked at, again. On the sidewalk on my street, by that long, skinny van. That's when I started to realize that almost nowhere in Beijing was safe from traffic.

I think about the absurd honking quite often when I walk; I suppose because it is now a constant soundtrack to my life. One day, as I strolled along a footbridge with some goods from a nearby market, I looked down at the road & sidewalk below. Watched people get honked at. Thought to myself: Heh. Suckers. Down on the sidewalk and road getting a 'HONK!' here and a 'HONK! HONK!' there. God I love these footbridges. They are the only place in Beijing where I don't get honked at. They should build more of--

HONK!!! HONNNNKKKK!!!!

No way! NO WAY!

Way. I totally got honked at on my precious little footbridge. Yes, FOOTbridge. I turned around to see a man on a small, motorized, three-wheeled vehicle, similar to a Thai tuk-tuk. Boy, did I want to wipe that smug little look off his face as he rolled by me. That's when I fully realized nowhere was safe. There is no escaping the horn-happy citizens of this crazy country.


HONK!

Argh. Sorry.. gotta move.