Some days in China are just more exciting than others. Today for example, I left class with a long to-do list, but as so often happens in China, I was interrupted half way through.
After class, I first needed to retrieve my video camera from a friend and then I needed to visit a couple of stores for some shopping. As the mosquitoes are back in full force, I decided to stop by a pharmacy and see if I could get some anti-itch cream. I wasn't sure what to ask for, so I sidled up to one of the clerks and told her mosquitoes bite me a lot. She seemed to understand because a few minutes later she reappeared with a tube of medicine.
Later that afternoon, I went in search of a bicycle repair man who would pump up the tires on my bike. I get them pumped up about once every two weeks. Every time I ask for new tires, the repair man just replaces the patches. There's a repair man on nearly every corner here, so you're never far away from help.
There's a mall about a mile from my house. In front of the mall is a very large, very busy intersection. Everyday people run the red light, ride on the wrong side of the road, and just generally make a nuisance of themselves. As I was trying to cross the street, a man on a scooter came flying towards me. We both stared at each other for a second unsure which way to go. In the US when people are heading on a collision course, they'll usually both move to the right. Not so in China; people don't move at all, or they move in whatever direction suits them. This guy didn't move. I made a sharp turn at the last second. His scooter rammed into the front tire of my bike, sending my groceries flying. I was fine, but at this point I wasn't sure what to do. Do I apologize, or just walk away? Do I wait to see if he offers to repair the now mangled wheel, or should I offer to fix his hand break that mysteriously fell off? In the end I opted to walk away while he was preoccupied with the hand brake.
The front tire of the bike was so bent out of shape that it wouldn't move. I lifted it by the handlebars and pulled it to the nearest bike guy who happened to be across the street. He looked at my bike, told me to flip it over and proceeded to work on it. I thought he was just going to give me a new wheel, but nope, he opted to instead bend the wheel back into shape. He first took it off the bike, and then leaned it up against a brick. Stepping onto the outer rim, he began to bounce until it was nearly back to normal. After a bit more tweaking and the addition of some new brakes, I was ready to go. I hopped on the bike and took off.
Several blocks later the new brakes loosened and fell down so that they were rattling against the spokes. I tried to fix the problem myself, but after a few minutes it became clear I wasn't going to make it anywhere very fast without another trip to the bike guy. Once again, I picked up the bike by the handlebars and pulled it to a bike fixing station a block down the road. This time, an old woman was working. She spent nearly a half hour tinkering with and replacing parts of the brakes until she finally threw her hands up and wired them back on. They don't really work, but I don't think that was her point. She spoke to me the whole time I stood with her. She had a heavy Sichuan accent and the only thing I managed to understand from her was "lift the bike and let me look" and "you need to replace that part and this part and that other part and this one here and that one and this one..."
I took off again. Several blocks later the chain fell off. Fixing that I took off again, nearly getting mowed down by a dump truck on the way. I made it home in one piece to soon find that the I had accidentaly left a packet of tissue in some pants that I had just laundered. My clothes had been TP'd.
The only thing that could make this day more "China" would be if that tube of mosquito stuff kills me. It's starting to tingle...
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