Exactly what I needed

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After Chinese class and a brief stint at 3D Bar ("a place where fun nights out go to die" -Dan), Cody and I found ourselves wandering around Shenzhen on a Wednesday evening. We walked aimlessly, imploring China to provide us with some form of entertainment. Due to the severe lack of benches in China, we sat in the filth against a wall to people watch. China instantly came through for us. Within five minutes, a group of Chinese toddlers curiously surrounded us. One of the youngest, a girl of about two with pink crocs and rice smeared on her face, promptly popped a squat right in front of us and proceeded to pee all over her shoes. She stood up, smiling, and ran into her sibling's outstretched arms. Once they discovered us, we began an epic face making battle. They would distort their little pudgy faces at us, laugh, and run away before sheepishly attempting to sneak up on us (from the front.) We only left because the dirtiest little boy (whose mother kept slapping him) decided to follow his mother's example and hit me. He thought it was hilarious, of course. In our best Chinese/wagging finger body language we tried to explain that his behavior was not ok, and his mother would just slap him in return every time with no effect. We took the bad parenting as our cue to go.

We finally discovered Deng Xiaoping's billboard and Lizhi Park, which I've been looking for since I got here. Stone paths wound their way through the trees, exuding the kind of serenity I've come to expect from Chinese parks and temples. The street's neon lights buzzed through the tree branches while the sound of music floated on the breeze to our bench (yes, we found a bench!) A man played Ole Lang Zyne on the saxophone while a few rats scurried out of the bushes towards our feet. I wonder if the Chinese have written their own words to that song because as it is it seems like an odd candidate for cultural borrowing. However, the Chinese do like the polka...so who knows for sure what's eligible.

The melody from some kind of chorus drifted towards us, so we continued our journey around the lake towards the music. As the sound grew louder and more discordant, the path opened onto a clearing filled with people and music. Everyone was singing, dancing, and playing Western and traditional Chinese instruments. Three separate bands competed while the chorus, simply a group of people led by a man in a white collared shirt with cigarettes in his breast pocket, sang on despite the background noise. The overlapping sounds of all the musicians created a raucous cacophony that somehow had merit in its own Chinese chaoticness rather than in its musical quality. I'm not sure if that's what they were going for or if they just all really wanted to hang out in the same clearing...it was a charming clearing.

In another corner, people dressed in all white practiced tai chi while kids played hacky sac. As I sat on a tree stump observing the scene, I experienced one of those magical China moments where you forget everything else but the details of your surroundings: the smell of urine from the nearby water closet, the sound of the oboe and the erhu, and the grace of tai chi. It fills you with something short of awe but more than admiration-- you are oblivious to your immersion in a culture that is so much more polite and respectful than your own yet so much more willing to sing and dance regardless of the crowd. These are the moments when I feel more "in it" than at any other time. You soak up every part of it until something (a killer mosquito, the hacking and spitting of the Chinese man behind you who has his shirt over his belly, the screeches of the omnipresent construction sites) snaps you out of it.

We eventually left the clearing and headed to the "Moon Watching Bridge." Aptly named, the bridge has a view of the lake and the moon hemmed in by Luohu's neon-lit buildings. We lingered for awhile in the moonlight before descending to a rocky beach overlooking the lake. We lied down the grass and talked about China's ability to provide us with exactly what we needed when we needed it-- and how she even seemed to know what that was before we did. Lost in conversation, I barely noticed China's next gift: a friendly reminder to keep your purse connected to your body at all times.

I felt my bag slowly inch away from my side and before I could react Cody was up and yelling at the man whose red hands were tugging at my bag. Dude was bold! He let go and just stood there, looking at the ground, before defiantly walking away. I realized how lucky I was -- my ipod, about 150 kuai, bank card, Hong Kong and Shenzhen metro cards, and Chinese textbooks all would have been gone in a flash if the thief had acted more decisively. Nothing was irreplaceable, but it would have been a hassle. And just like that, China was able to take back the serenity she had given us and replace it with the harsh reality that is Shenzhen. I pitied the man; I'm sure he was poor, probably a migrant far from his family with few resources. I was angry at myself for letting my guard down.

All of those emotions: exhilaration, admiration, fascination, calm, violation, frustration, and shame passed through me in the two hours we were in that park. It was a perfect manifestation of my life in China. The starless sky accompanied me home through the noise, air, and light pollution of Futian, a constant reminder that I'm surrounded by millions of people on all sides, all trying to make a better life for themselves and their families in any way they can.

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Comments

[NYCKid]

Very nice blog
Very nice blog.