"But even now when they speak of their country they call it 'Our Land'"
I never thought I would be able say I had walked the streets of China. Especially considering my predilection for animosity towards Communism(just ask my old roommates). But I kept those feelings quiet and to myself and welcomed the offering of friendship from our hosts. The experience was somewhat overwhelming. The rigidity and formalism of the military guard that welcomed us was awe inspiring. But you could almost sense an underlying feeling that they feared failure and the consequences of not performing their tasks perfectly, simply out of the acute urgency in their movements and the actions they took if a mistake was made(which was very seldom if not non-existant). It wasn't quite the same as the jovial atmosphere that we were greeted with in Japan, but the fanfare and production was outstanding. In Japan we could approach the other Coast Guard members and strike up a congenial conversation no matter how mundane the topic; here it felt as if that would be quite a social faux pas to make them break their military bearing demeanor.
Out in the city though it was a completely different story. When the people found out we were Americans, we were almost treated like celebrities. Often times when we did find an English speaker we quickly drew a crowd around us hanging on our every word and action. One of the most memorable instances of this was when a friend of mine located a newspaper with RUSH on the front page and we could be spotted on the decks manning the rails in the large photo. We pointed this out to the vendor and people crowded around asking numerous questions and practicing their English with great pride. I guess running into an American there is somewhat of a rarity. Later that evening we met a Chinese woman that worked as an English translator and we were invited over to her group's table for the evening. I quickly learned the definition of the word "GAMBAI!" It means "bottoms up" or "empty the glass" which they cried fervently every time a new pitcher replenished their mugs. Let's just say it was taken as an insult if you didn't, so I certainly had my fare share that night. We all enjoyed the soccer game that was playing on the television and cheered loudly in unison for the team of choice that evening. They brought out round after round of beer and food keeping the shop open well after closing time, and at the end of the night they refused to let us pay. Hugs were exchanged, gifts were traded, pictures were taken. It was one of the warmest welcomes we've received on this trip.
The city itself is home to over 7 million people and the streets were bustling at all hours of the night. Korea felt like it was densely populated, but it was nothing compared to the constant throng of people you had to wade to from destination to destination. It was a rushed push and shove atmosphere in the marketplaces trying to grab the best deal before the person next to you could snatch it up. The terrain was tightly packed with skyscraper residential buildings with larger commercial and industrial buildings looming over them all. At night the neon splayed across all the buildings advertising anything conceivable and even if you can't read mandarin you can still gleam the ad's purpose by looking at the numerous large screen television type displays peppered throughout the city. Despite all this commercialization, it would still seem there was a severely depressed economy. Everything was excessively cheap and it appeared like everyone was just scraping by enough to survive. Almost every restaurant we entered was completely deserted except the staff that was usually standing about just waiting for a customer. The shops were usually packed, but rarely did we see anyone make a purchase. Then again, that may have just been my impression. Juxtaposed to all the commercialistic advertising was a plethora of ideological influences. From statues and emblems, to posters and billboards you can easily gleam the political powers that control this country. Some murals were splayed across buildings with text completely derivative of certain manifestos. But, then again, I may have had an eye for particularly picking these things out because of a certain proclivity for ideological melodrama.
Despite the numerous opportunities and the vast amount of things to capture, I didn't take any pictures at this port call. So, I'm afraid there will be very few and I will have to acquire them from other people.
Comments
Pictures please!
Hope you're having a good time overseas, Bill. I think of you often. I'm jealous of your travels... never made it to China...
Posted by: Tom "Skillet" Bissell | June 29, 2006 06:55 AM