A Finer Grain

Since my arrival in Chengdu, I have been living with a Sichuan University Faculty member and his family just inside the south gate of campus. To get to our apartment, you pass from bustling streets onto campus, then take a left through the gate to our neighborhood, where the environment is completely transformed. Outside campus, bikes speed through herds of pedestrians and around carts full of produce, recyclables, shoe liners, cleaning materials, and other odds and ends. Cars seem to be in a constant jam, and taxis and tricycles huddle in corners waiting to join the race. Our road on the other hand, is narrow, lined with trees, and protected from the city mayhem by a tall wall and a row of older concrete apartment buildings. During the day, the soundtrack plays more like the set of Hitchcock’s “Rear Window” than the city commute, with neighbors practicing piano, taking voice lessons, strolling by in conversation or ringing bicycle bells. At mealtimes the smell of Sichuan oils and spice from every kitchen calls students and workers home for lunch, and in the afternoon old women and men crowd around coffee tables negotiating through rounds of Majiong, a traditional gambling game played with foreign dominoes and cards. At night it is completely dark except for glowing windows and the orangey city sky peeking through the narrow cracks between buildings and tree branches above. If you are returning home after 1 in the morning, you have to clang on the gate to wake the guard, and then give her a kuai for letting you in.

Needless to say, I am intoxicated by the daily routine of my neighborhood; from the bicycle bell traffic in the morning until the un-threatening nighttime dark, I consider it my haven from the congestion, construction, and general chaos of the city outside… which is slowly revealing some of it’s not so idyllic realities.

When I first arrived in Chengdu, I was pleasantly surprised by how safe I felt in my neighborhood. Beyond the minor threat of pickpockets and beggars, there was none of the aggressive sexual harassment or nighttime danger that had become part of my daily routine in South America. Although I definitely receive a lot of attention because of my distinctly western appearance (there is absolutely no hope of blending in), I feel that it is mostly either curious attention or people trying to help me communicate and move around. Buying oranges at a local fruit stand for example, is often a four person endeavor, with someone helping me choose the best oranges, someone helping to weigh and price them, and someone else being appalled by the outrageous price they are trying to charge me.

There is also a sort of innocence about the Chinese people for me, that I’m coming to think may be augmented by the lingual and cultural divide between us. The nature of a large population and a communist society means that more people are outside doing stuff all the time. All over town there are adult “playgrounds’ equipped with brightly painted exercise equipment and stretching bars where people swing their legs around and “work out”. Everyday between 4 and 6 it also seems like everyone, mom, dad, grandma, and ALL of the high school and college students, are outside playing huge games of pick up volleyball, basketball, ping-pong, soccer, and badminton on nearly every sidewalk with or more likely without a net. Furthermore, at English corner every Friday night, where hundreds of Chinese and a few very giving foreigners gather to practice English, it is customary for anyone to join any conversation by merely walking over and asking, “May I join? What topic are you discussing?”. This kind of uninhibited attitude towards social interactions is everywhere, often catching me, and other foreigners off guard.

But, as I mentioned earlier, as my eyes adjust to the more subtle/clandestine activities, this innocence is being put into a larger and perhaps more realistic context. Hair salons that dot nearly every block, for example, have taken on an entirely new meaning as many of them turn on pink lights by night, and women who smile and cut hair in the afternoon wait around in knee high boots for lonely tinted cars to take them away... Also, the young kids who are so cute playing with balloons and ping pong balls on the street by day are not as cute when they are still happily playing well past their bedtimes, and it's hard to realize that when many old ladies aren’t playing majiong with their friends they are sorting through trashcans to separate plastic, paper, and other reusable, re-sellable materials. I’ve also noticed recently that the carwash underneath my building leaves it’s garage door a few feet open at night and a black suited man waiting on a plastic stool for who knows who or what. I've also noticed that while there are a whole lot of cute little puppies and bunnies for sale on the streets everyday, sure aren't that many dogs... and even though they aren't secretive about eating dogs here, that observation still makes me cringe.

This is where my thoughtful conclusion will go. But for right now, I have to meet my Chinese tutor.