Getting Stuff From Here to There

All three photographs were taken in Jiangkou, about 60 km
away from my city. Jiangkou means "River Mouth", or
"where the river begins."

Chinese people have the strongest bodies in the world. Moving stuff in this country often means using your body to do the work, regardless of the item. Strong backs are the backbone (pun intended) of getting things done.

I see everything carried on people's backs. The man, at left, is moving a new wooden table to its new home. I'm guessing that table is destined for a restaurant since it looks just like the tables I see in most of restaurants in this part of China. This man probably just finished putting it together in his shop and is delivering it to his customer. He carries it alone, and he walks quickly. No one on the street around him bats an eye, as this is so common. The foreigner (that would be me) is the only one taking notice.

Babies moving around in baskets is also very common. Parents and grandparents carry their precious cargo in wicker baskets on their backs, leaving their hands free to carry produce home or push vending carts to that day's sales location. This toddler wasn't in the mood to sit inside his basket the right way. Instead, he was balancing his little bottom on the very edge of the basket. His mother didn't seem to mind, speaking to the balancing abilities of her and her son.

Never underestimate what wicker baskets are capable of supporting. They are often used to carry more than babies. They are also filled with heaps of pencil-thin spring onions or baseball-sized radishes. Sometimes, they even carry home new TVs, as you can see in the third photograph. The TV doesn't fit inside the basket, but it will fit on top of the basket, with the help of some strategically tied string.

Tough and Tender

Kunming, Yunnan Province

I really love this photo. It captures so many things about China and about what I notice, revealing things about both of us.

I have been staring at the computer screen for ten minutes, trying to choose the right words to explain why I love it.

I realize something.

It doesn't need any explanation.

Scenes From a Run

Everyone shares the road, and this herd of goats is no exception.
A bunch of goats jogging down the road, babies following, is one
of the cutest things. Alas, the goats didn't care one bit about us.

Home, sweet home, for a family, or two. I heard voices inside
but wasn't brave enough to holler out for conversation.

Yesterday, my friend Jim and I decided to go for a long run. I had one route in mind. He had another.

Jim: "Want to try that path I pointed out last time?"

Me: "You mean up the big hill?"

Jim: "Yeah, but it's not that big."

Me: "No." Jim and I have different ideas about what constitutes a big hill, and he is a lot stronger than I am.

I paused. One rule for myself is to not automatically say no to an idea here. I should at least consider it.

Me: "Ok ... how long is the hill?"

I found out. I couldn't make it up the darn thing, which always frustrates me. (Insert complaining here.)

However, the hill provided its own reward. Just on the other side, true China awaited. We were in the country. No car horns. No construction trucks. No throngs of people. No one yelling, "Laowai", which means foreigner. The sounds of the city were three miles behind us.

The shift from city to country is abrupt. While China is modernizing, many places are still living the old way, as you can see in the photographs.

Across the street from the home are the fields the family likely tends.
These vegetables will show up in my market, a mere three miles away.

We trekked into a small village in search of water. Instead, we found
a small cave and teeny, tiny waterfall. Ok, it was a trickle of a stream. Hundred of
hidden caves are tucked into these mountains. Jim wanted to see how far one
small cavern extended, so he crawled inside to find out. Alas, it didn't go very far.

At the end of our journey, we had four muddy shoes and one scratched eyelid, and the sun came out as we returned to the city. It was a great morning.

Safety Schmafety

Let's take the whole family, including Junior, out for ride ... no helmets required!
Kunming, Yunnan Province, about 450 miles away from Tongren, as the crow flies,
or a one-hour flight followed by a 13-hour train ride on an evil green train

Safety in China comes down to one statement, “Enter at your own risk.”

Seat belts are missing in vehicles. “Caution! Wet Floor!” signs don't mark freshly mopped, slick floors. No ropes surround an open manhole on the sidewalk, so you see a missing cover and a round drop.

During the Chinese New Year, everyone lit fireworks, day and night. This is the birthplace of fireworks, after all. I could buy shooting rocket from a street vendor and walk five steps away to light it. These were the “big-deal” fireworks, the kind that shoot up into the sky, bursting into rusty red stars, the same fireworks that require high-stakes permits in the good old USA.

My favorite scene is watching a moped driver wear a helmet, but his straps are not clicked together under his chin. Instead, they are floating in the breeze alongside his ears as he zips around the taxi. Or, the metal fabricator has safety goggles, but as he’s searing through a sheet of metal with his shooting flame, those goggles sit on the ground, next to his knee. If I don’t want to singe myself with the renegade sparks, I need to keep myself away.

The lack of safety-control rules in China makes the United States look extremely over protected. In China, you are responsible for yourself and your actions. This is one of many ideological differences. People here are not sue-happy. People are aware they are making decisions, and they drink the hot tea without the printed warning that reads, “Caution. The beverage you are about to drink is extremely hot.” People don’t blame others for common-sense things that they should know in the first place. And, as a friend crassly noted, there are a billion people. Perhaps a lack of safety regulations is one way to control the population a bit. 

However, do NOT, under ANY circumstances, drink cold water in the winter. You will catch a cold.

What?!? It's Leap Year?

Chinese New Year's Eve, January 22, 2012
Chongqing, an 8-hour train ride from Tongren, a city of 35 million people

China is a time void. The usual calendar markers do not exist. No Halloween. No Thanksgiving. No Christmas. No New Year’s. Thank goodness I still have a birthday. Chinese New Year is a whole different ball game that takes place on its own terms. China follows all of its own rules.

Without events to mark the passing day, weeks, and months, I loose track of time. It could be November or February. There’s no need to know the date … the fourth, the eleventh, the nineteenth … it doesn’t really matter. A “biggie” date, like December 25, means nothing here. It’s just another date for a teaching plan about apples, oranges, and grapes. I must think really hard about what day of the week I am currently living.

Having no sense of time is an odd and slightly dangerous feeling. It’s hard to know if I exist and if anything I do is real.

Until a few minutes ago, I forgot this year was Leap Year. Actually, I was shocked and alarmed that I had no idea. I usually get excited about such things. It’s a special day, one whole extra day to do something.

Only here, today is just like any other day. That’s China.

Ohh!!

Simply adorable ... little-kid boots hanging on the clothesline ...  this just makes me smile!

Get to the Point

The Chinese language tends to be very straight-forward, even blunt.

Chinglish, or the Chinese translation of English, can be just as straight-forward, and it can be quite amusing. The stripped-down interpretations often carry a strong thread of truth that makes me pause and think.

Check out this sign in the old city of Lijiang, in Yunnan Province. I have to say that I agree.