Sun Get Up, Mikey Get Up

August 26, 2008

This morning I am up with the sun once again but this time I decide to see the village in its waking hours. I began my day by visiting the street vendor Jackie took us to the day before. “Zao,” I say. “Ni Hao,” replies the man with dark hair and sun wrinkled skin. He works quickly, opening the pita, cracking the egg, and turning each over in a single fluid motion. It reminds me of my barista days. Amid the prep-work and finishing he looks up with a grin overcome by amusement. Certainly, he is just as entertained by my presence as I am with his daily grind. “Yi ge,” he asks holding up a single finger. I nod my head to confirm my order. His wife, already holding a pita, points to the toppings and asks, “yao la, yao ma?” “Yao, Yao,” I reply, gesturing that I would like all the veggies and spice. Quickly she spreads the spices on either side of the fold. In the center she places the veggies and I’m ready to go!

I return to campus while munching on this delicious food item. I know I’ve said it is delicious once or twice already, but seriously, it is so good. By far my favorite food item to date. Walking north along the east wall I pass the group of retired professors exercising tai chi behind my apartment. This is a patient martial art. They seem to stand around more than actually exercise. That’s my kind of work out. I will have to work up the courage to ask them to teach me one of these days. Continuing down the road I pass the sports field, track, and ball court. The sun is barely out and the track and ball courts are filled with hundreds of men, women, and children of all ages. I was thirsty now and decide to head out to the market where I had purchased soap and tissue the day before.

To my surprise the market is closed. In its place are farmers lining the street on either side for what looks like miles. They are selling fresh fruits, fresh or somewhat fresh vegetables, meats, and the occasional pair of socks. My favorite sight is the livestock. Like in the movies or Anthony Bourdain’s No Reservations, the chickens are sold live and by weight using traditional scales. A man makes his purchase and hangs the chicken by bound feet over his handle bars. To my left are large wok-like bowls filled with fish. There are catfish, salmon, trout, and carp. Or so I think, I am no expert on river fish of China. They splash around fearing for their lives. Little do they know that the next Wok they experience will not be so cool.

Just then I encounter something very troubling. There is an older man hitting a young lady on the hand like one would discipline a child. All around me people are screaming. The man behind me is doing the old ankle-tap trick. Remember the one from the airport that accomplishes nothing but a sore on the back of my ankle. It still doesn’t work. In front of me, behind me, to my side, and in front of me again are little old people pushing and shoving and yelling. It is 6:30am and I have just encountered my first…

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!FARMERS MARKET TRAFFIC JAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is quite a terrifying sight and I am helpless to do anything about it. And just like in Chicago there are people diving in and out of traffic as if they are somehow magically going to get through the congestion. Today’s problem seems to have started when the young women, driving a walnut-cart, rear-ended the old man in his corn-cart. The impact sent him into oncoming traffic where he struck a moped head on. The .5 mph collision resulted in a 78 person/bike/cart/moped pile-up. The accident was sorted and I’m happy to report no injuries except for a couple scraped and bruised ankles.

After negotiating the accident sight I reached the corner and headed west towards the south gate. It is amazing that the streets are vacant of activity on this street, while just around the corner is near chaos. Feeling brave, I decide to explore the city. I venture further and further. Every street corner has a restaurant spilling out onto the street. The chairs are filled with people discussing the day’s activities to come. Old men and women sweep the ally’s free of leaves and soot. As I walk, I peak into the homes as the residents convert their bedroom into a kitchen and finally a shop. Living spaces are small and every inch of space is used for multiple purposes.