High cost of dieing
One of the neat little things I like about living here is the tombs. I know, I'm weird. Be that as it may, the burial situation here is quite different from back home. Back home if you want to get buried, you have to buy a plot at one of the local graveyards. Here, it seems that any bit of vacant land is open for negotiation. I first discovered this on our fourth or fifth hike. We were headed up the mountain and all of a sudden I see these marble things. Upon closer inspection, I discovered that they were tombs. Since then I've found that the hillsides here are dotted with these things. (I've also ran across a
trio situated in someone's backyard, but I think that's the exception.) I don't know if people are actually buried within them or they only house people's ashes. Anyway, like I said, I think they're neat. Whether it's because they tend to be shaped like the monitor I bought with my Mac ci, or just the random nature of their placement, I don't know.
One thing I never considered, however, is how the things get there. Back home, graves are nicely arranged in rows with roadways built through the memorial park. Here, although there is one hill that seems to be dedicated to tombs, graves tend to be scattered about, with foot trails being one's only access to the site. The full implications of that were revealed to me on this morning's hike. We ventured up Man Jiao Hou mountain, making our way through Man Jiao village. (The translation of the mountain's name is "behind Man Jiao mountain".) As we stepped onto the trail we had to walk around a number of slabs of granite. Graves in the making, I noticed. I didn't think much about it until a couple of minutes later when we saw one of those pieces going up the hill. Well, the piece itself wasn't ambulating. It was being carried by six or so guys. Each pair had a length of thick bamboo across their shoulders with the stone suspended from it by chains. We changed our hike to avoid them, and when we came back down, the guys were still at work. We had to jump up onto a rice paddy to give them the right of way. The guys on the left side were walking along the narrow path, the poor guys on the right had to slog through the drainage ditch alongside. When I considered how high up i've found tombstones, I had to marvel at how dedicated some folks are to their dearly departed. I mean, I've read about venerating the ancestors and all that, but I had to see these guys breaking their backs to haul hundreds of pounds of granite up the hill in order for it to become real to my American mind.
Anyway, I have at times thought how nice it would be to be buried up in one of the pine groves in one of those fancy Chinese tombs. (Not that I will actually care, once my time comes.) But after seeing what a burden it would be for the living, I think I may just go back to my original plan of hiding my corpse in the yard waste bin.
Cross with the light
One aspect we ex-pats joke about here in China is the traffic. To my American eyes, the driving here is very libertarian. The rules of the road are useful guidelines, but always seem to take second place to the cardinal law: Get where you want to go with minimal delay. In order to achieve that aim I've seen drivers pass other cars on the right, left, or whatever space seems available. I've seen cars driving on the "wrong" side of the road, barreling through red lights and have even seen a couple of drivers make a left hand turn using the cross street's right turn lane. The miracle of it all is that in my year and a bit here, I have yet to see one accident.... well, up until last weekend, that is.
On Sunday afternoon, Yau Neih and I were taking a bus ride. We recently noticed that the city had added a few bus routes in our section of town and we decided to investigate them. We had run a couple of errands and had ended up at the new grocery store in town. (We had to stock up on our chocolate cereal, don't you know.) We managed to catch a bus on one of the new routes and rode about town, intentionally taking the long way home. (The bus routes here are all circular.) We were riding through the north end of town, the bus driving along at a rather leisurely pace. The busses here don't adhere to a strict schedule or limit themselves to specific bus stops, so the drivers usually gauge their speed by how much room they have in their bus. An empty bus promises for a slower ride as the driver keeps a lookout for new fares.
At this point both Yau Neih and I were idly looking out the side windows, watching the people, shops or new construction that passed by. Suddenly the driver slammed on his brakes. I tried to maintain my balance but tumbled forward, bumping into a lady seated in front of us across the aisle. As I fell I could hear the crunch of an accident. My first thought was to apologize to the lady I hit, and to ask if she was okay. Of course, in such an emergency situation, my limited Chinese vocabulary was quite lost in the recesses of my brain. I ended up just picking myself up and dusting myself off. She seemed to be unharmed, so I just left it at that. She was, of course, excited about the whole accident. Turning my attention to that, I looked out the front window, but couldn't see anything. From the sound of crunching metal, I was expecting to see a car or something. The driver had immediately left the bus and the passengers were following suit. We followed along and as we got closer to the front, I could see the driver kneeling over someone else, just a few feet in front of the bus.
As we stepped out into the road we could finally see what happened. A bicycle sat crumpled under the bus' front wheel. About six feet in front of the bus, the driver was trying to pick up the rider, a boy about eight or nine years old. That was contrary to what I had learned in high school first aid, but there was no way I could have communicated that. It was one of those situations where I just had to sit back and trust other people to know what they were doing. The injured boy was crying, but didn't seem to be screaming in agony or anything. There were a few other kids hanging around--I'm guessing friends of the injured boy. A lady appeared to be scolding them. Whether she was lecturing them on traffic safety or telling them to run home and get help, I don't know. Once the driver had picked up a boy, folks started trying to flag down a passing car. It took a few minutes until an empty taxi passed by. In that space of time, a man in a wheelchair came over, who at first impression seemed to be related to the boy. However, once we flagged down the taxi, that man stayed behind while the driver climbed in with the boy and the taxi drove off. At this point Yau Neih and I figured that we really couldn't do anything to help. So I put our bus fare on the driver's seat and we walked home. We figured if we were required to fill out any witness forms or something, it would have been pretty easy for the police to find us.
Once we got home, we peeked into one of our "foreigner's guides". It had a little section on accidents and we found out that what we had witnessed was pretty much standard operating procedure. In the case of an injury accident, the driver at fault will usually accompany the injured party to the hospital. At that point the driver would probably have to arrange to settle up accounts, making arrangements to pay the costs involved. (And while to American thinking, the boy might have been at fault, here the responsibility falls on the driver of larger vehicle.) So our bus route research was cut short by an experience of a different kind.
Ironically, the bus driver was driving quite safely, even by American standards. There was no libertarian driving involved. Like I said, this is the first accident I have witnessed here. Hopefully it will be the last.
One!
Well, we have finally reached a milestone in our language studies. Last night I was able to play
Uno entirely in
putonghua. In an effort to promote cultural diversity and understanding, I am presenting a guide so that you, too, can play
Uno in Chinese. Have fun!
| Chinese phrase | English equivalent | When used |
| hong se | red | when playing a wild card |
| huang se | yellow | when playing a wild card |
| lue se | green | when playing a wild card |
| lan se | blue | when playing a wild card |
| dui bu qi | sorry | when playing a skip card or worse |
| xie xie | thank you | when someone plays just the right card |
| uno | uno | (some words are universal) |
Going to the show
I had a rock 'n' roll flashback this weekend. On Saturday, we discovered that people were putting up a stage just outside of campus. There's this road, Shiji Lu, which ends at our campus gate. It's a big honkin' six lane boulevard--they were obviously building for the future here. Anyway, the last leg of the road is on a downward slope, so it made for a pretty good spot for an impromptu outdoor theater. We didn't know
why they were building this stage, of course. We joked about it being for a revival meeting on Sunday morning, but really I figured it might have been some college thing. The only problem with that theory was that when they build stages for the college shows they usually commandeer the basketball courts.
Later that evening I found out that the stage was for a civic performance. Apparently there is or was some nation-wide talent contest on CCTV. (I'm a real old fogey when it comes to local pop culture, so don't ask me to supply details.) The fourth place winner was from our town here. She was coming home in triumph to give a concert for the folks. True, she only made fourth place, but that detail's unimportant when the competitor's from your home town. We decided that it would be worth checking out, just because it would be different, if nothing else.
So Sunday night rolls along and I found out that it really wasn't that different. We met up with some students and headed off to the stage. The show was festival seating and the street was packed with people. I switched my wallet to my front pocket and squeezed my way through the crowd. I had definite flashbacks to Chicagofest, 1981, where my friends and I waited in line to see Cheap Trick. The only big difference was that the haze of smoke above the crowd here was made from tobacco. (Well, that and I could see over almost everybody's head.) We tried to make our way to the seating area--a few hundred plastic stools--but then decided to head back uphill to the SRO section. The one student, Gail, who was hanging out with us said we could see more from back there. So we stood and waited as the crowd became thicker and thicker around us. The crowd seemed to be mostly younger, say age 30 and under. There were a few older folks, mostly escorting kids. It could be that the elders had already scored seats down front. Or maybe they just stayed home to watch it on TV. The local television station had set up its cameras. At one point a group of soldiers in dress uniform came marching up. It was obvious that they weren't there for security or as some sort of honor guard. They were just some guys coming to catch the show.
Finally about 7:30--a half hour after the announced starting time--the show began. (Hey, just like the States.) My exposure to Chinese performances has been limited, but it seems to be the practice that the emcees are an integral part of the show. The emcees took the stage here and spent a number of minutes welcoming all the visiting dignitaries. They then yielded the stage to a dance troupe who performed a big flowing dance number. I mentioned to Yau Neih that if they ever broadcast the show on TV, we'd have to try and watch it so that we could see the routine close up. After the dancers, the emcees came back and presented the girl of the hour. (I suppose if I had any shred of journalistic ability I would ask somebody what her name was.) She sang a couple of tunes--pop numbers, nothing that really grabbed me. Then the dancers returned, this time dressed in Dai minority costumes for another dance. This pattern continued with a couple of songs then a dance number (From the Wa minority this time) then a few more songs. This was peppered with a couple of presentations by some dignitary or another. Then, by 9:00, everybody got on stage and the emcees started droning on while confetti was shot into the air. The show was over and it was time to go home.
The next morning, the stage and all the equipment were gone, as if it was all a dream. Well, except for a bit of confetti scattered about on the ground...
I don't get it
We went dancing in the park last night, Monday being our "dance night" for this semester. Like many an urban park, there is plenty of activity going on 'round about. As we came into a park, there was a woman handing out some sort of advertising flyers. About half the time we encounter folks like this in the street, they ignore us. (A wise move, since we're illiterate and can't read the ads anyway.) This lady, however, was not one of those. She definitely stepped into our path and thrust her ads upon us. (Well, me, anyway. Yau Neih makes herself less of a target in these situations.) It turns out she was passing out coupons for Dico's, our town's only western style fast food outlet. I put the flyers in my breast pocket and went on to dance.
Later on in the evening, as we were in the dance circle, the lady next to me reached over and grabbed the papers out of my pocket. She and the lady next to her looked at the flyers and began to laugh quite loudly. She then stuffed the papers back in my pocket, leaving me wondering what was so darn funny.
Rough week
Ah, it's the weekend! That's something I haven't appreciated for a while. I mean, we have had weekends in China, but I never used to greet it with the same sense of relief that I did back when I was in the States and working a full time job. This year, it seems different. Actually the whole thing seems different. Everything seems to be taking extra effort--homeschooling, getting the shopping done, getting into English corner, starting up our Chinese lessons, hiking, dancing, blogging--everything. I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm just in a mood or something. Ah, well. Life goes on....
Sshhhhh!
This year I've volunteered to help out with the English library here on campus. The library, or resource room as it's called, isn't an official college library, but something set up by the previous set of foreign English teachers. It's been a bit slow in starting up this year, as the building it was in had been converted to dorms this past summer and the whole thing needed to be set up again. Anyway I went to a meeting about it last night, hoping to figure out why they always want some foreigner to be on hand when it's open. I think the original idea was that the foreigner--usually a teacher--would be on hand to supervise things. Of course, I have no experience in running the resource room, nor any sort of experience in library management. (Unless you count playing with
LibraryThing.) Of course, I have been
using libraries longer than any of these college kids have been alive, so maybe that qualifies me. We'll see. I think my real function will end up chatting with anyone who wants to talk to a foreigner.
Warning! Warning!
In an ironic note, coming off this bird flu scare, we got an e-mail from the U.S. Consulate in Chengdu. It was an e-mail about the nuclear test in North Korea, basically stating that there was no apparent threat to Americans here in China. Furthur into the mail was the line, "As a standing policy, the Embassy urges Americans residing anywhere overseas to always be prepared for the possibility of an emergency." Good advice. But in this case, I think that the prudent response would be to stay put rather than go to a place where the missles might be pointed.
Going home
Flashback: Tuesday, October 3rd, 2006Tuesday arrived and we all got up bright and early. After a relatively quick breakfast, the girls and I started school and Yau Neih started packing. I don't know what it was about our time in Kunming, but school was done with an efficiency we can't seem to manage back home. Anyway, we were done and ready to check out a bit after 11:00. Since nobody back in the States doubted our assessment of the situation, our boss came by to handle the check out and pay the bill and all that. We went to lunch, after arguing a bit about it. (I suppose we needed to vent the frustrations of the week
somewhere.) We went back to the place we had dinner on Saturday night. They served up a very tasty chicken and cashew dish. (They apparently had a good cucumber dish, too, according to my daughter. I didn't care for it.) After that we killed time in the company office and then left for the airport.
Kunming traffic in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon is remarkably light. We got to the airport with plenty of time to spare and checked in quickly. While I prepared myself for the security check--emptying my pockets and dumping the contents into my carry-on--the ladies took a peek in the gift shop in search of the elusive Wa minority doll. In all our browsing at the Bird & Flower Market, Ga Dai had not managed to see a doll representing the Wa and had suddenly developed a hankering for one. (Having been a collector of various things over the years, I know the feeling.) Thankfully, they did manage to find one and quickly snatched it up. It was a pleasant end to our exile.
The flight home was routine. Once landed, we grabbed our bags and hopped aboard the bus into town. I suppose I should have felt good as we rode back into town, but instead I felt a twinge of guilt. Like a rat returning to a ship that never quite sunk. I suppose if I had my way, I'd have toughed it out and then if the threat had been real, I could have patted myself on the back for being a good martyr while I lay sick in bed. Anyway, despite my own mental state, it was a pleasure to get home, even if the week turned out to be rather dull. Be it ever so humble...
One more day
Flashback: Monday, October 2nd, 2006(You may suspect that I'm milking this trip for all it's worth. That I could have easily summed this up in one post instead of three.)(You're right. Deal with it.) On Monday, we had a chance to look forward to some socialization. Some co-workers who are teaching in Macau were coming up to Yunnan for the holiday. They were going to arrive early in the afternoon and spend the day in Kunming. Our boss was planning to show them the
Bird and Flower Market and then take them to dinner, and we were invited to tag along. Ga Dai had wanted to hit the B&FM anyway, to buy a wall scroll, so we agreed.
We finished school in the morning (oh, that we had such motivation every day!), had lunch and then headed on down to the market. We weren't there for more than a half an hour before we met our compatriots. We exchanged greetings and browsed around a bit. The Macau crew were planning on heading to Lijiang on Wednesday, so they didn't go too hog wild in buying souvenirs. They soon saw everything they wanted to see in the market building and wanted to roam the area a bit. Ga Dai had her heart set on seeing more of the indoor market, so we split up and planned to rendezvous for supper later.
After Ga Dai got in her shopping fix, we headed northward, strolling through what I'm told is the oldest section of Kunming. It had a number of old buildings, complete with grass growing tile roofs and, incongruously, a large variety of shops devoted to video game equipment. Now that the family agenda had been fulfilled, I was looking to do my own shopping. In my haste to pack, I had neglected to include the USB cable I needed to transfer pix from my camera to my laptop. Since the date of our return was still up in the air and my camera was filling up, I figured it might be prudent to at least price the cost of another cable. The one drawback was that the family was getting tired and wasn't up to spending the next hour or so walking around on a quest. Fortunately we were coming up to Renmin Lu and a big plaza with plenty of planters to sit upon. I bade farewell to my dear wife and children and went out in quest of the technology I needed.
The quest failed, alas. Or maybe that's a good thing, since I didn't really need the cable. Either way, I had stopped in a computer store, appliance store and camera store. None of them had any sort of cables or even all those little attachments and doodads that seem quite abundant in the States. My guess is that since all these consumer goods are a relatively new phenomenon here, the market is really looking for brand new systems, not replacement parts for their existing systems. Anyway, my search took about 45 minutes to an hour. I then hooked up with my clan and we hopped a taxi to the neighborhood where we planned to dine.
We met up with our compatriots and discovered that there was no seats available in the restaurant. (I bet somebody had the audacity to get married that day.) Our boss then opted for another place, a mere two blocks from where we had been previously. Ah, well. Apparently the place was rather unique thing in Kunming--a building that was over a hundred years old! There were signs forbidding photography and everything. We had a nice dinner, comparing notes with the Macau crew and all that. (Turns out that they've never
eaten bugs. And here I thought Macau was so cosmopolitan.) After dinner we strolled a bit in
Green Lake Park. Finally, we all headed "home"--the Macau crew to rest and us to check the e-mail and make a decision about ending our sojourn.
We got back to the office and checked our e-mail. No word from any of our friends. Either this bird flu thing was really a non-event or they were all deathly ill and couldn't e-mail. We assumed the former and checked with a co-worker in Hong Kong. She had conferred with a friend in the prefecture and, in her opinion, returning to our city was not a risky venture. She did advise us to avoid un- or under-cooked poultry, though. So, even though we had had a nice evening out, we decided that barring an order to stay put from the States, we would head back the following afternoon. The wait was all but over.
Still waiting
Flashback: Sunday, October 1st, 2006Sunday, National Day here in China, was a non-event for us. We spent the bulk of the day doing school, finally getting caught up, then just hung around the hotel. Oh, I should have mentioned that when we came back on Saturday night, we were locked out of our hotel room! We didn't know how long we were to stay, of course, so our agency had only put down a deposit for two nights. The hotel uses electronic cards as keys, so when we tried to use them the locks just beeped at us and stayed closed. Yau Neih went to the front desk and while she couldn't communicate our overall situation to the clerk, the clerk was able to let us know that she wanted some cash. That was an easily solved problem, but a tad annoying. Anyway, it ensured that we would see our boss at least once a day as he came by to pay our deposit for another night. So we did see him on Sunday, but there was no news to report. It seemed that it would be okay to head back home, but we all thought it would be wise to wait for one more report from sources back home. Yau Neih also wanted to get confirmation with the folks back in the States that it would be okay with them if we went back. It meant cooling our heels at least until Tuesday (since we had to wait until Monday morning stateside) but it's better to make sure everything was all right. Besides, I was enjoying those breakfast burritos that Yau Neih had discovered.
It's a small world...
Flashback: Saturday, September 30th, 2006Today we made some lemonade. Kunming is, or at least has been, our city of retreat. We have gone there to meet with our colleagues, get some Western food and generally have a good time. So we've started to take notice of potentially interesting things to see and do in town. One of the things we had slated to do this year is visit the
Yunnan Nationalities Villages park. Well, we really weren't in town to relax or have a good time, but we were in town after all. So Yau Neih suggested that we should take advantage of the opportunity, postpone school (which had been already postponed from Thursday) and make the time to check out the park.
We figured out the bus connections and headed out after breakfast. The park is located on the south end of the city, on the shores of Lake Dianchi. We were at a slight disadvantage being illiterate. We had to keep one eye on the map and the other on whatever landmarks we could make out. We managed to make our connection all right, but ended up overshooting the park entrance. Fortunately the end of the bus line was not too far from the entrance and we got off there and walked back.
I probably should comment here on the minority phenomenon. Unlike the U.S., where we often make note of where our ancestors have hailed from, the majority of Chinese are a single ethnicity, the Han. There are minority ethnic groups, usually living on the edges of the country. A large number of them live in Yunnan, mostly having been pushed there over the centuries as the Han have prospered and expanded. The nearest U.S. analogy of which I can think is that of our relationship with the various Native American nations. Anyway, in Yunnan, the ethnic minorities seem to be the province's claim to fame. There are coffee table books in the bookstores and little minority dolls in all the gift shops. Having a minority theme park in the provincial capital makes perfect sense. To me, anyway.
So, we arrived at the park. From what the brochures said, this land has been set aside and members of each participating group have built homes, temples and the like to showcase their culture. Many of the groups offered regular demonstrations of their music and dance. It seemed like every group also offered a gift shop. Though I've never been to any of the Disneylands in the world, I get the impression that each village is like that Main Street U.S.A. exhibit.
I won't give an itinerary of our tour, but I will say that we enjoyed ourselves. (When I get around to it, I'll post some
pix over at Flickr.) The varieties of architecture were quite interesting, though I think that some of the buildings we peeked into were actually dorms for the workers. For lunch we headed over to the "The Flavor City" dining area. I was hoping for a big variety of ethnic fare, but, of course, I can't read Chinese. If the restaurant did label ethnic specialties, I had no clue as to which was which. That wasn't too disappointing, though, since we've got ethnic restaurants in town. I contented myself with a bowl of noodles, which burned my lips off. (I ended up eating only half of it and then helping myself to the rest of the family's blander leftover lunches.)
Anyway, we spent almost the whole day at the park, leaving just before suppertime when they seemed to be closing up. Our trip back to the hotel was a bit more eventful than the one down. This being rush hour, I was unable to push my way off the first bus before it left our stop and my family watched me drive away to the next one. Our second bus reached the end of its route before I thought it would, so we spent a good fifteen minutes wandering around trying to figure out exactly where we were. But in the end, we went out, had a nice day and got "home" safely. For what more could we ask?
Rumors
Flashback: Friday, September 29th, 2006My exilic ruminations didn't last all that long. On Friday afternoon, we checked our e-mail to hear the latest word from our town. There was no new news, only confirmation of what they had discovered earlier--a limited infection that was quickly cleaned up. We consulted with our co-workers in Kunming and got a clearer picture of what had happened to bring us to the city. Our agency does development work, English teaching being only part of the package. A week ago, they had hosted a group of high school kids who had ventured to our neck of the province on a service project in a village. The group returned last Tuesday and then on Wednesday our agency was told about the diseased birds. They made some calls and that's where they heard about the closed airport. That's when they decided to pull us out. Anyway, subsequent inquiries had gotten somewhat conflicting information, though everything seemed to point to the situation as being under control and not at all dangerous. Still, the prudent course seemed to be to wait out the weekend, especially since the coming week was the October holiday with no classes being held.
We spent the bulk of the afternoon rather lazily. The girls read and I spent an hour or so exploring the neighborhood. We also talked with the Hong Kong office. They were very solicitous for our welfare, even offering to relocate us if we were uncomfortable with returning to our rural city! We assured them that such a thing was furthest from our mind and that we were quite eager to return. But of course, that wouldn't be for a couple of days and we had a whole weekend ahead of us.
Don't have to live like a refugee
Flashback: Friday, September 29th, 2006Friday was our first full day in exile in Kunming. We had stayed at our hotel before back in... well, I guess that was in the
beginning of September. So anyway, having just stayed there a few weeks ago, we knew that there were street vendors around the corner so we could have a cheap and tasty breakfast. We didn't find a Kunming counterpart to our beloved pancake lady, but there was a vendor selling the pork filled pastries. There was also this guy who sold egg, onion and shredded potato scrambled together and sealed in a crepe like wrapping. Delicious! Yau Neih tried it that first morning and the rest of us joined in after that. After breakfast we returned to the hotel and started school. On a normal day, Siu Wan and I are lucky to get started before lunchtime. Here, without the usual distractions, we were able to finish everything in the morning.
It was during that time, as Siu Wan was doing some writing and I was twiddling my thumbs, that I started thinking "refugee thoughts." I looked out the window and saw the apartments across the street, some with laundry hanging out to dry. I thought about my own laundry sitting in the hamper back home, and that became kind of a metaphor for all the unfinished tasks we had left behind. We had the schooling to keep us occupied, but otherwise we had a potentially long stretch of time of sitting and waiting for some news. Not a pleasant way to spend some time. It reminded me of news stories that I had read about refugee camps and such. We certainly weren't suffering physical deprivation, what with sleeping in a hotel and dining at restaurants and all. But I could feel a connection with the anxiety and depression that folks fleeing from real disasters must feel. Their life, their homes are all out of reach. Day drags into day as someone else somewhere decides what their future will be.
Leaving on a jet plane
What a long strange trip this has been! Okay, there have been longer and stranger journeys, but this was certainly an unusual one for us. We're back from a trip to Kunming--a totally unplanned and unwanted vacation. It wasn't horrible, it wasn't great, it was just...well, a journey is the best way to describe it. The best way I can think of, anyway. I'm still trying to process it all.
Flashback: Thursday, September 28th, 2006The "holiday" started on Thursday morning, about 10:30. The kids were up and doing their morning things. I was on the computer, reading my news or some trivial thing. The phone rang and I answered it. It was our "boss" in Kunming. They had got word that there was an outbreak of bird flu in our prefecture, and that they had even closed the local airport in response. He had consulted with folks in Hong Kong and the States and they were of the opinion that we should head out to Kunming "as soon as possible." Heavy. I told him that I would get right on it and get us sleeper bus tickets and all that. I hung up and told the girls. Typically, Siu Wan was quiet and Ga Dai was not. They didn't want to leave for some indefinite time. Plus they were frightened. That makes sense, since we've never experienced such a thing before. Besides, Ga Dai is in the middle of a book that's set in London right after the plague. It's no wonder that talk of quarantine and evacuation should trouble her.
As for me, I didn't want to go to Kunming, either. I wasn't all that frightened--just annoyed. We had just decided not to try to travel over the October break since our finances are a bit tight this year. Now we had to head to Kunming and I was just sure that the expenses would come out of our funding somehow. (An illogical thought, once you think about it, but I didn't have time for contemplation.) Anyway, in a somewhat negative mood, I decided to head over to Yau Neih's classroom and try to catch her over the break. I started planning who to inform and what tasks we'd need to accomplish. Ga Dai came with me and we got to the classroom about five minutes before the break. (Siu Wan was finishing breakfast.) Either Ga Dai looked especially forlorn or Yau Neih was curious, since she excused herself and came out into the hallway. I broke the news and we discussed what needed to be doing while mother comforted daughter. (There's a big scientific explanation about how women have two lobes in the brain so they can multitask like that. I won't go into it now since I only have one lobe and want to talk about last Thursday.) We were pretty much in agreement on everything except that Yau Neih wanted me to at least look into flying instead of taking the bus. Usually my wife is pretty frugal, but she's quite willing to go the extra
kwai when it comes to avoiding the sleeper bus. She also pointed out that, since we were trying to avoid an infectious disease, a half hour plane ride made a lot more sense than being cooped up in a bus for 12 hours. Common sense trumped stinginess.
I went back to the apartment, telling our neighbors that we wouldn't be available for English corner that evening. (grumble, grumble) They showed concern and understanding, though they didn't seem to be rushing for the airport themselves. I think that's when my irritation over being inconvenienced started sharing room with feelings of guilt. Why should I leave while other folks are staying? Anyway, I didn't have time for those contemplations, either. I went back to the flat and did some quick web searches on airfares. I had to go fetch some money first, after all. I also did a bit of poking to see if there was any news about airport closures. There wasn't, but then again, in this part of China, one would not expect to get any sort of real time information about local conditions. I trudged over to the bank and withdrew some money without much hassle. When I got to the airline ticket office, I sat down and tried to use my phrase book to put together a query about whether the airport was open or not. In the time that it took me to do that, a number of people came in and everything seemed to be business as usual. So I changed my tactics and filled out a ticket form for an afternoon flight. I figured that if no flights were leaving, they'd let me know soon enough. As I waited for my turn at the counter, I tried to peek at what the other folks were purchasing. I saw at least one other person had purchased a ticket for that afternoon. When my turn came, sure enough, they sold me the tickets with nary a problem.
I returned home and grabbed a quick bite. Yau Neih had contacted the dean and a couple of other ex-pats around town. Nobody had head anything, but they started asking around. After a couple of hours, word started filtering back. Various folks had been told that there were a few chickens found to have the disease, but they had been "killed, incinerated and buried deep underground". Nobody had heard about possible human infections or about airport closings. And even our group had called back saying that the airport thing couldn't be confirmed. Even so, they wanted us to head out to Kunming as a precaution. (They have to pay the insurance premiums, after all.) We agreed, though I was starting to feel a bit like Chicken Little. So we finished packing up our school books and headed out to the airport.
The trip was uneventful, hardly what you'd expect in an evacuation. Of course, we were the only ones being evacuated. For everyone else, it was business as usual. Our boss picked us up at the airport, took us to dinner at
Salvador's and then dropped us off at the hotel. We dropped off wondering what the heck was going on and if there was any purpose to our long weekend.
