8/25/14
I’ve been avoiding this. I’ve been instructed not to write about China but if you can keep a secret, there’s some definite stuff going on over there. It’s amazing what can change after 11 hours in a plane. Everything is different in China…even the air.
Think of something you expect in the US. Imagine running a stop sign and then looking around the corner and seeing a cop. Your heart drops into your stomach and the adrenaline begins, thumping through your veins for a very difficult conversation. Don't expect that in China. The police in there are not known for hitting the pavement with citations, in fact they don’t even bat an eye when witnessing traffic accidents. Seems like a broken and terrible place, no?
Open your mind Westerner, there are two sides to the coin. Although they don’t do much, China’s finest don’t really need to. There is not much petty crime in the large cities; the punishment far outweighs the benefit. You can get 8 years for stealing a pair of headphones. Plus, pedestrians are secondary to cars, it’s actually against the law to stop for cross walkers.
If the police do have a purpose there, it’s a much darker secret than I care to learn. I’ve seen them arguing with civilians, it’s similar to watching anime—expressions are your best bet for following the plot. The Chinese language is nothing like Spanish, not a cognate to be found. One thing I do know in Chinese, a police man with weapons means an armed guard, which means steer clear, their citations are given physically and irrationally (for a real story you’ll have to ask me in person).
Lots of words get lost in translation (shout out to my man Bill Murray). A prime example being the word “line,” a colossal misnomer in China. The word funnel is more appropriate when in the Chinese queue. People are cutting like it’s a collage party. A stupid K-Pop collage party. The worst part is that if the tall white dude with the mustache decides to cut, it’s painfully obvious. The white elephant in the room follows me everywhere in China.
Therein lies another big difference in the far east, Matthew Hansen. He gets his passport punched and then comes out of customs to see his name printed neatly on a white piece of paper in Times New Roman. He then gets driven, by a driver, to his 5 star hotel. Orders 30 dumplings and gets to bed for a big day in the business world.
Not many of you know me to be a business man, but if you grow a fine facial hairs and talk pretty enough, polluted sky is the limit.
