Last week was Terry Fox Day, and being a Canadian school, we of course had a Terry Fox run. While being a truly Canadian institution, the run highlighted everything that is Chinese about my life.
I live in a Chinese 'Development Zone' - the New & Hi tech Agricultural Development Zone, in fact. This means that I live on the very, very outskirts of the city, in an area that was likely completely rural until a year ago. Now, the rural life is slowly being overtaken by busy roads, massive industrial parks and rows and rows of luxury apartment buildings. Since this is China, this is not happening necessarily in an orderly fashion; rather, fields are interspersed with apartment buildings and major complexes are directly across from old village streets and markets. The school I am at, a huge compound in it's own right complete with apartments, a school, dormitories, a massive (and uncompleted) gym and food court, and a large courtyard, is directly in the middle of this. The route of the run, our track not being finished yet, consisted of leaving the school gates, turning right onto a small but busy road and then right again onto an extremely busy, major roadway. Right again on to another busy road, loop around a reservoir.
Being part of the teaching staff, instead of running, (thank god) I got to stand on the side of the road along the route to help direct and cheer the kids on. It's not a long route, but as I was leaving the school I got a lift from one of the school drivers. Through a very complicated game of charades, I managed to get him to drop me off in the middle of a busy road not more than a 15 minute walk away. Complicated in part because he doesn't speak English, and my Chinese is limited to basic numbers and a few bargaining terms, and in part because there was no way to explain to the poor man why on earth I would want to be dropped off so close to school, yet so much in the middle of nowhere.
Since I was early, I had about a 15 minute wait before the race began. So, I sat myself down on the side of the curb and took in the Chinese experience. Old people and young people riding by on bikes. The sound of construction behind me and a vast empty space in front. Expensive cars with tinted windows. Trucks that may have come from the 1960's. The sightseeing was not one sided, though. Every single person who passed by turned and stared. Cars slowed down. One man on a motorcycle actually turned around and drove past me twice. If I think China is strange, the feeling is returned doubly.
On the other hand, kids are kids everywhere. The race started and the keeners webt jogging past. Next came the ones who were trying but not really enjoying it. And finally, at the very back of the pack came groups who clearly had no interest in anything other than a leisurely stroll and a good chat with their friends. More than anything, what I'm finding is that once the layers are peeled off, people really are the same everywhere you go.
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