In the States we go for what's "chic," "sexy," and "stylish." In China? No way! - "Cutsie" is in. The girls don cotton tees featuring cartoon characters, adorn their hair with plastic clips boasting bold, bright colors and flash the "peace" sign for every snapshot taken. This picture really encapsulates the quintessence of the "cutsie" movement. I almost started laughing when my host family picked me up in their "Hello Kitty" car which was not only painted yellow on the exterior, but replete with "Hello Kitty" seat covers, cup holders, and stuffed animals. The car on the left is no exception to this cartoon craze. When I hopped in the back, I found myself sharing the seat with a life-size teddy bear. The dashboard completed the theme as a dancing bear swayed to the rythm of the traffic.
I love the grocery stores in China! I don't know what fascinates me more - the 100 year-old eggs in the poultry section or the beef jerky wrapped up in shiny packaging as though it were a caramel. I felt like I was at the Atlanta Aquarium with Hailey and Brooks as I snapped pictures of swimming eels, glistening seaweed and live turtles ... It was quite the sensory overload ... Too bad Leigh wasn't there with the hand sanitizer!
Let's just say - this particular meal didn't win 'most savory' of the trip.
Here, Olivia is going through a fire "detoxification," widespread practice throughout Asia and the Middle East. In the painless procedure, a cotton ball is lit, the flaming ball is thrown into a jar, and then the open end of the jar is quickly applied directly to the back. Starved for oxygen, the flame is immediately extinguished, but in the process creates a vacuum that causes skin on the patient’s back to inflate. Although painless, the procedure leaves serious red marks that last for weeks afterwards.
Here I am with the jars stuck to my back. It’s a common sight to see people walking around in the streets with the conspicuous bruises from these inexpensive and widespread “detoxs.” For the common cold, it is the preferred method of treatment.
Olivia and I overlapped by 4 days - so she was able to pick me up from the airport and I accompagnied her to the terminal when she left.
Towards the end of the trip, Yin and I made a visit to her grandmother's house in the military compounds. We were driven to her apartment by a military chauffeur. What I didn't realize, however is that military personnel are not obliged to follow traffic laws. I soon learned first hand the full extent of this exemption.
We had just merged onto a busy, three-lane highway going between towns. It's China - so there is always traffic. Trucks barreled down the highway, cars swerved between lanes, and motorcyclists weaved through the congestion. We easily blended in with the general forward-moving mass as our driver occasionally blared the horn as a vehicle cut in front of him, or bumped the rear of his car. Yin and I were talking casually in the back seat, when suddenly the driver slammed on his brakes. He had missed the exit. Next I found myself in one of the most surreal and frightening situations I have ever experienced.
As traffic careened around us, our vehicle was at a standstill in the middle of the highway. In all the congested traffic, cars had barely a couple of seconds to see us, let alone react and find space to swerve to avoid hitting our car. I watched terrified, as cars barreled down our lane, blaring their horns and swerving just feet away from the rear of our car. We must have sat there for 3 minutes (which is a heck of a long time to be wonder about your chances of survival) before, (thank heavens!), there was a 10 second break in the traffic. The chauffeur put the car in reverse (may I remind you this is on a three-lane highway) and backed up the one hundred meters to the missed exit.
Back on track, Yin's grandmother continued telling her story, and the chauffeur nodded calmly in response.