The Golden Chariot of Qufu

I feel that it is safe to say that, for all of us here in Qufu, our daily routines have become, well, routine. We know what to expect. We know what our students get excited for, and that their blood pressures seemingly spike 15 points at the mere utterance of the word "exam." We know that we all need to get more exercise, and that sometimes it's just not in the cards. Okay so usually it's not in the cards (although we're doing better). My point being, we have become quite comfortable with our daily lives; China is no longer a strange and foreign land - at least Qufu isn't, and this means that I know, in general, what to expect during a given week.

I may or may not have mentioned this before, but my typical weekly schedule has come to include a once-a-week trip across town to Qushida (where Lucy and Eliza work), to "tutor" two groups of middle-school and high-school aged Korean exchange students. While this weekly occurrence may or may not be an eventful one (read: the students recently started using the electric heaters in the rooms to try and set the hand outs I gave them on fire...), it has caused me to become extremely familiar with what I consider to be the most important asset of Qufu: the bus.

Enter the #5. This modern marvel of public transportation, while not being the quickest way around town, is by far the preferred method of transportation between the hours of wake up o'clock and 6:00 pm. The bus may not be direct, and it may be a rough ride at times (this is usually because of rough roads), but it is always entertaining. Okay let me re-phrase: somewhere between entertaining and dear-god-I-might-pee-myself-terrifying, but lets be honest, sometimes that is a very blurry line.

The #5 is perfect for the college student (or foreign laoshi, depending on who you are...). It costs only a single yuan (roughly 14 cents) and, at one end, starts at the Qufu train station just past Xintan college, and runs all the way across town to Qushida. Along the way it passes the the Bank of China, two very large shopping centers, the center of the city (where you can find shopping, food, and the Confucius Temple), the bus station, a cool park, and my personal favorite, a clothing store named "Romanticbeaut" (photo pending). What else could a person need?

One reason the bus is usually entertaining is because of the people we sometimes encounter there. The weekend before last I met Lucy at Silver Plaza (the bigger of the two big shopping centers - they sell whiskey!) on a pleasant Sunday afternoon. Now, the bus is easy enough to catch as long as you flag it down, but it is important to notice when it is coming so that you can step out into the street and let the driver know you want to get on (you can do this just about anywhere along the streets the bus runs, bus stops optional), and usually we are on top of this - particularly because the bus ALWAYS stops at Xintan, but also we tend to keep an eye out. Well, on this particular afternoon I was finishing up sending a massive text message (thanks to a recently acquired cell phone), and failed to see the bus until it was whizzing past me. Not wishing to wait another 15 minutes I chased the big-twinkie-of-a-bus down. This was, apparently, the funniest thing since sliced bread to two women riding the bus, as immediately after boarding they proceeded to laugh and attempt to speak to me in loud Chinese. Once they realized (or at least I think they realized, but I'm not really sure) that I could not understand them, they simply started speaking slower... One would say something, enunciating every syllable, the other would laugh, I'd ignore them, the cycle would repeat. They got off the bus before me luckily - however when I returned to Xintan going the other direction, they passed me again (shouting loudly of course) in another bus. Ahh Qufu.

There is also always a decent "hair-affair" on the bus, or a person with a ridiculous and/or amazing hair cut. They love the wild hair here. Recently there was a guy with an MP3 player BLASTING some hilarious Chinese pop/slow dance song. Good times.

A couple of weeks ago Olivia, Karrin and myself headed over to Qushida for a nice dinner with Eliza and Lucy, only to find ourselves stuck at a four way intersection just down the road for literally 10-15 minutes. There wasn't an accident and the road wasn't closed. Rather, there were simply too many vehicles/people, and no one was paying any mind to the traffic lights, let alone the 8 police officers standing helplessly in the middle of it all, angrily blowing their whistles and waving their arms as if to put on the illusion of actually having control of the intersection. Cars and buses were forcing their nose only inches from the vehicle in front of them and would creep inch by inch as soon as they possibly could, ensuring that there was no space for anyone else to nudge in (which they would have, given the opportunity). This of course was converging on the intersection from 4 directions, rendering it impossible for any one set of vehicles to move at all. Pedestrians, seeing the chaos, and being unable to use any form of a sidewalk because there were too many cars, simply decided to walk right through the middle of the intersection, only compounding the already hilarious jigsaw puzzle of vehicles which existed. One bus driver was agitated enough to nudge a man on a bicycle who attempted to get between his bus and the car in front of him. Add to the image in your mind the donkey who was, in a futile attempt to clear the intersection by its owner, headbutting a bus, and you might start to get an idea of why the #5 can be so much fun.

My absolute favorite part about the bus, and the reason I think it always proves to be entertaining/terrifying, is because of the traffic patterns in Qufu, and the complete familiarity of the streets that only comes from driving a bus up and down the same roads day in and day out. You can tell that these drivers are totally on auto pilot. That is all well and good - I like a confident, experienced driver. It does mean, however, that sometimes they tend to drive a little too fast for the traffic patterns, and thus it gets a little scary, as we are constantly afraid that the bus is going to get into an accident. for example, lets consider the following picture:

As you can see, the lane is quite crowded - there really isn't anywhere for a large bus to go - or is there? Hmm, there seems to be some space on the left... well why not?! WHAT COULD POSSIBLY GO WRONG? The driver of course, seeing the open lane will immediately shoot for it, resulting in a scenario, while not taken on the same bus ride, similar to this:

Yes, that is a mother and her small child darting across going the other direction, while the bus careens toward the woman on the cart with the yellow cover and the mini truck. Good times had by all. Lanes in general just don't seem to have much meaning, even when turning corners, as witnessed by this particular picture:

look closely - that is actually the lane boundary for the left side of the road. Yes, the driver did in fact turn directly into oncoming traffic. I must say however, it is not entirely the bus drivers' fault that they drive so insanely. For one, this is simply the norm over here. Roads are pretty much every man for themselves. This of course, means for pedestrians too, as is witnessed here:


I took this picture from the inside of the bus. Right next to the door (it was really crowded). The woman is simply casually walking her bike down the middle of the street as if no one else existed. Now, this doesn't necessarily pose a problem - if a moving vehicle sees another person ahead walking down the middle of the street it is typically easy to slow down and avoid. I've noticed one problem in particular as to why this usually can't happen as it should, and that is that people don't travel in straight lines. ever. In fact, bicycles, electric bikes, three wheeled carts, and people all tend to take a route closely resembling the red line below:

While this happens, a car may come careening down the road in the opposite direction, in a pattern similar to the one shown in purple:

Seemingly at the same time, and from the depths of no where, a dog/car/donkey/bike/pedestrian/chicken will decide they need to cross the road, as illustrated by the teal line:

Casually, all three sentient beings will seemingly pass through the highlighted space at the same time:Miraculously, all parties involved emerge completely unscathed. We can use these diagrams to answer the question, "why did the dog/car/donkey/bike/pedestrian/chicken cross the road?" Simply put, to deny the laws of physics.

As you can very well see, the bus here in Qufu is not only a fantastic way to get around town, it is also cool because it simply does not obey the laws of physics. This may not be all of the fun stories and events we have encountered on the number 5 this year so far, but I'll do my best to update the blog with any further hilarious encounters/pictures of donkeys head-butting buses.

We Now Return You to Your Regularly Scheduled Program...

So lets talk pictures.

I've gone for a couple of very satisfying walks the last few days, mostly because the weather has been exceptional. The temperature is definitely dropping quickly, but the brilliant blue skies and large amounts of sunshine have been making up for it. The wind has been blowing rather briskly, which has worked wonders on the local air quality, something we all have grown to appreciate.

Anyhow, on these walks I have noticed several things... First, I found some bigger Cannons:

I don't think this really needs further explanation, other than these ones are way more badass. Luckily, they are not parked anywhere near my apartment currently.

Next, I finally saw a Chinese fire truck! Karrin and I were walking back from downtown and the FD was at Xintan, apparently doing some sort of demonstration...

I do love a sweet fire truck... If I were able to speak Chinese I would have totally asked for a tour. Oh well.

Last we have my personal favorite of the week, compressed gas cylinders:

I have to say, this is certainly my preferred method of transporting large compressed gas cylinders: on an electric three-wheeled cart, roaring around the congested streets of Qufu, using a person - sitting on the tank - as a restraining device, all the while smoking, as to ensure that only one hand is being used for driving, and to add that extra level of zest to life which only comes from smoking around compressed gas cylinders. Lord knows what was actually in the tank, but I'd be curious to find out. It was probably either air or helium, but I'd like to think either oxygen or hydrogen. Just for funzies.

Continuation

I promise that soon I'll return to regularly scheduled posts such as "Pictures of The Week" and travel updates, especially updates on travel plans, but for now I am going to continue on the topic of my last post (I got rave reviews, after all). One thing I mentioned in my previous post concerning the presidential election was that, while I harbored all these feelings of anguish and frustration, finding anything that resembled evidence as to why, was difficult.

Well, quite by accident, I stumbled across two recent New York Times articles that I feel back up my anger, at least a little bit. Both articles are concerning health care in America - a hot-button issue. The first article is quite long, however I ardently urge anyone who has the time to read it to do so. For those of you who don't, I'll briefly summarize:

The article, while focusing on a few specific cases, addresses health care for immigrants within the United States. Specifically, repatriation of patients who are still very much dependent on hospital care. By repatriation I do in fact mean the sending of patients, often by ambulance, back to their home country. In one case a child (born with Down Syndrome and heart defect), born in the United States and thus legally a U.S. Citizen, was almost sent back to Mexico because of his parents Mexican drivers licenses, despite their residence in the United States for almost two years (The article does not however comment on the legality of their residence, only the citizenship of their son). Another patient was lost in an airport. The main case the article tackles is that of a 19-year old legal immigrant who, injured in a car accident, upon his parents refusal to pull the plug, was transferred, septic, from an Arizona hospital to a Mexican hospital. His parents through a church organization found a hospital in California willing to treat him pro bono, where he made a (albeit miraculous) recovery. He now walks with a slur and a cane.

The underlying issue which I'm getting at here, as is the article, is funding. Hospitals every day face intense budget crunches, and are asked to choose. Some hospitals apparently respect life more than others and do not attempt to repatriate patients who are on feeding tubes, but the fact of the matter, and the main point of my argument, is that hospitals are not provided with proper funding, specifically in the medicaid and emergency medicaid programs, to provide long term care for these patients. They are thus forced to choose. One hospital advised the parents of Antonio Torres, the focus of the article, to pull the plug - to END THEIR CHILD'S LIFE, quite simply, because the money is just not there.

Enter the second New York Times article, which I noticed a few days ago but failed to read in-full until after I had read the first this morning. This article, titled "New U.S. Rule Pares Outpatient Medicaid Services," discusses a new rule enacted by the Bush Administration 3 days after the election. The article sums up better than I can: "Alan D. Aviles, the president of the New York City Health and Hospitals Corporation, the largest municipal health care system in the country, said: “The new rule forces us to consider reducing some outpatient services like dental and vision care. State and local government cannot pick up these costs. If anything, we expect to see additional cuts at the state level.” The Bush administration (what I was ranting about in my previous post, for those of you who forgot what my argument is), in it's push for 11th hour legislation, is cutting back medicaid services.

While a direct connection does not exist - the medicaid services cut by the Bush administration are not those concerning illegal immigrants - the connection between the two, and the fact of the matter is a blatant slap to the face for anyone willing to see it. I'll do my best to wrap it up into a nice, clear thesis statement for you: At a time where medicaid services are already stressed and stretched (see a third article commenting on the rise of patients unable to pay), as witnessed by American hospitals going to such extreme measures as repatriation to remove patients unable to pay from their hospitals, the Bush administration is cutting that very same program, and doing so at a time that is IMPOSSIBLE to ignore - directly following an election. This of course implies that they waited, calculated, and schemed the best time to enact unpopular cuts to social services.

This is the type of behavior that had me in an uproar earlier this week. The under under the table wheeling-and-dealing. The making of cuts to programs that support the most under privileged of Americans, and doing so while all the while Smiling, nodding, and saying, "Oh no! We would never do anything to harm under-privileged Americans!"

I'll leave you with some final thoughts concerning the Articles. First, that Both the Mexican and the American physicians were surprised to learn that their mutual patient, Antonio Torres, was a legal immigrant - implying that the hospital in Arizona didn't care enough to check this, or to point it out to the patients doctor; and that the Mexican physician was used to only receiving illegal immigrants as repatriated. And second, that the very same hospital advised that Antonio be removed from life support. To end his life. Simply because there wasn't money to treat him. I now refer you back to my original post, exclaiming why I was happy Obama was elected, and why I was angry with the Bush administration.

Election Day - China Style

As I sit here eating my dinner of oily street noodles (yes they came in a bag) and a half dozen Satsumas (the whole meal costing approximately 57 cents), I can't help but smile. The last few days have been extraordinarily exciting for us here in Qufu, at least concerning the election. I'd like to share some of the feelings I've had over the course of this last election, but especially over the last few days. As a disclaimer, what follows is political rambling backed up by very little evidence of anything other than my own opinion, so if that doesn't sound appealing to you, I fart in your general direction, and please go away (before I taunt you a second time). I rarely find it prudent to rant politically, but I'd like to take this moment to do so.

First and foremost, I have found myself swept up in the party vibe I have been getting from friends and family, all the way across the world. I make no claims toward being an overly ambitious person when it comes to politics - I fully understand the importance of voting and have always felt compelled to do so, however this has really been the extent of my political activity. I've never campaigned or attempted to get those around me to vote my way or really made that extra effort. This is of course due in part to the fact that I have been, for the entirety of my voting-able life, surrounded by screaming liberals. At Skidmore, the few conservatives around were so dug into their trenches that you could hold a smoking gun to their face, say take a whiff, and they would shout and ardently ask to see the proof, all the while obviously not listening to a word you said about how, you were in fact, holding a gun, recently fired by those they were defending, and it was still warm. This election was really no different for me, up until about two weeks before election day. I'm not really sure what changed, but I found myself following the polls and the New York Times religiously in the days leading up to the election. As Tuesday got closer and closer, and the numbers stood fast in Obama's favor, I began to realize what was different for me. While I personally have enjoyed every chance to jab, poke, insult, and generally bash George Dubyah, I always thought of myself as, in general, very dismissive of his reign of terror - never really being motivated past this dismissiveness to really try and change what was happening. Perhaps the thought of actually caring was just too painful, or maybe it had just become so routine that I simply didn't care anymore, but it was how I felt, and thus I didn't expect much to change because of the election. When your head is surrounded by smoke, it's hard to see anything else without help.

Now that the smoke has cleared, I have come to realize just how angry, fed-up, and brutally pessimistic I had been about the last eight years. I can honestly say I didn't realize the extremity of it until now. I can only describe it as suddenly realizing you have that feeling that, the whole while you knew something was unjust, wrong, or just plain stupid with every fiber of your being, but being completely unable to pinpoint WHAT, while at the same time feeling completely helpless to do anything about it - like a teenager pissed off at the whole world for just not getting it, all over again. Almost as if I had been repressing the sentiment that, if everybody would just STOP being WRONG all the time, you might learn something.

The election of Obama has lifted the pessimism off my shoulders like it has done to many other Americans, not because I harbor the belief that he will fix the world - the man is not a miracle worker, but simply because the world really, really needed a win. It feels good, and I mean really good, to have something go right for once. For once, the political Red Herring's didn't work - people got tired of the slander, the slur campaigns, the focus on issues simply to get elected, the negativity of it all. The cycle has been broken. The last time the presidency was not held by a Bush or Clinton, I was two. TWO.

When I say the World needed this, I think that maybe this is why I feel as strongly as I do about Obama winning as apposed to McCain. The opinion which exists of our country within the rest of the world is so brutally embarrassing, and has been for so long, that the thought of identifying myself as American is just not appealing, and that INFURIATES me. I really like America. I really like being from America, and the idea of being able to hold my head high and saying, "look! we didn't just think of ourselves this time! You can come play too, world!" makes me happy. really happy.

I received an email from a friend here in China, Li Zhao (we have dubbed him Elvis Thomas Lee, because he really wanted an English name), once the election had been finalized, entitled: "congratulations to Obama," and reads as follows:

My American Friend:

I on behalf of myself congratulations to Obama was elected the President of the United States!

Elvis

I share this with you simply to show that, yes, the world did notice that we got something right, and yes, they care. Anyone who has seen a newspaper in the last few days I'm sure can agree. This above all else, is what makes me happy about this election, and I think is why I am smiling most of all. This didn't just give Americans hope, it gave people all over the world hope, and I don't think that can be understated. Ever so slowly the sense of impending doom is receding...