| Mr. Wang went out to summon a taxi in front of a miniature roundabout that was on the outside corner of the main road in Hu Po, where the road turned sharply to the east in front of the police station. It was directly in front of the entrance to the parking lot for the apartment complexes where there was another small road that connected to the roundabout between the police station on the right, and the apartment complexes on the left. Some taxi drivers would wait in the roundabout area because there would often be people coming out of the apartments who needed a ride. The taxi drivers would usually find a place that was busy with customers, and wait there patiently instead of waiting at the taxi company for a phone call. There was too much business to miss out on since taxis may as well have been the number one mode of transportation in Hefei. Sometimes it was difficult to catch a taxi because there would be several people waiting for one in the same area. When it came to catching a taxi, it was every man, woman, or child for his or her own self no matter how long anyone was waiting. Mr. Wang caught a taxi and got into the front seat. Jackie, Summer, and I climbed into the back, and the taxi driver took us downtown to Changjiang Primary School at Mr. Wang's request. The entrance to Changjiang Primary School was located on a wall in between some clothing stores downtown, easy to miss if you don't know what you are looking for. After walking through the front gate, the school opened up into a large courtyard area with small tiles on the ground with a water drainage system protected by a grate and scribbled pictures on some of the old cement walls. Some apartment buildings could be seen rising up just above the school walls in front of me. Someone who lived on at least the third floor of the apartments could look out their window and peer down directly into the school's courtyard. On the left was a small four-story building of classrooms with balconies on each floor and a central staircase leading up to the top floor. The courtyard was so well hidden from the outside world that I found it amazing to look up at the sky while standing in the middle of the open area. I had never seen a school anything like that back in America. David, the boss of the Wongas company I would soon be working for, came out of one of the classrooms on the ground level followed by some Changjiang Primary School students. David was in his early 30s, and had a large solid looking build, not fat or muscular, covered by a light gray business suit with short stylish hair that stood straight up on his head. He wasn't into fitness, but he was definitely used to eating a lot of high-class meals. After my previous business experiences with Sally from Hefei and Daler from Anqing, it only took me a second to catch a glimpse in his eyes of the future dishonesty he would impart. I didn't have any other choice but to work for him because I had no idea how long it would take to find another job, so I ignored my first impression of him and focused on his polite and pleasing manner. David explained to me that he had a one-year teaching contract waiting in his apartment for me to sign, so after giving me a moment to become familiar with my future teaching environment, he invited us all to his apartment for the signing of the contract. David had a great appetite for wealth and the finer things in life. His apartment, though not very large, contained expensive vases, paintings, leather furniture, and a plasma T.V. On his computer was a file that had all of the contract specifications. He printed off two copies, one for me to sign, and one for me to keep. I read it over very carefully several times, and also let Jackie read it. Everything seemed legitimate, so I signed the contract and became an employee of Wongas. By now, it was about the second week in August, and I had been living in a hotel in Hefei for a little less than two weeks. Over the next couple of weeks, David and his associates would get me a new visa that allowed me to stay in China for a year, and help move me into my new apartment before the school year began in the beginning of September. David's assistant, Hillary, was the one who came to my new apartment to get my picture taken to take to the police station near The Walking Street that handles all visa transactions. Hillary was short and very thin, and she didn't possess the same sunshine face that was common among many of the people I had met in China. Her face was cold and emotionless, as though the blood in her body was rarely ever directed to her face for expression, and her eyes were very sharp and penetrating. She was beautiful, but there was something cold and calculating about her. Hillary was also to be the translator for my classes once the school year began. Mr. Wang had a friend who wanted an English tutor to teach his son several times a week, so between that job and teaching Candy and her sister Angel, I would have enough work to keep me busy and keep the money coming in until the schools opened up. On the first day that I would tutor my new student, Mr. Wang came to my room early in the morning and treated me to a bowl of spicy beef and rice noodles at a restaurant underneath the hotel. Then we took a taxi to Tun Xi Road near where his apartment was on the southern edge of the downtown area. The taxi driver took us up on a bridge that had blue trim lights runing along the side that lit up at night time that eventually swooped down into Tun Xi Road where there were many restaurants, hotels, businesses, and some government buildings with guards wearing green uniforms and hats standing face to face unmoving in front of the gates. The street was big and wide, but didn't have as much traffic flowing through as would have been expected for a street that size. We got out of the taxi across the street from a two-level restaurant that had water flowing down the front of two large windows that faded the visibility of the customers who were eating inside. There was a back road bordered by short cement walls that curved around behind the restaurant where Mr. Wang's apartment was. Seven year-old Xiao Yu and his father drove up to Mr. Wang's apartment moments after we arrived. Xiao Yu was a little quiet and shy, and seemed to be in his own mind more than he was focused on the outside world. There was a very strong innocence about him that seemed to indicate that he had been shielded from many of life's harsh realities. His father wore a continuous smile, and seemed very pleased that his son would have the opportunity to learn English from one of the few foreigners that lived in the city. Xiao Yu and I studied English together with Mr. Wang, and he gave me some advice on how to teach Xiao Yu, which was valuable to me since I hardly had any teaching experience. Eventually, after Mr. Wang decided that I had sufficient knowledge about teaching to continue by myself, he would leave me to teach Xiao Yu for two hours several times each week. Xiao Yu had much trouble staying focused on the book material that we studied, and he would look around the room with his big innocent eyes as his mind wandered from our lessons. Some teachers have strict teaching methods to ensure the continued cooperation of the students, but I had not the heart to force someone to learn. I was merely persistent with him until he finished each section in the book. After I would teach Xiao Yu, Mr. Wang would walk back out onto Tun Xi Road and summon one of the taxis that cruised down the road toward us like Nascar racers. He would send my taxi back to my hotel and pay the driver in advance. I would then wait for Jackie and Summer to meet me and have lunch with them. After I moved into my new apartment in Hu Po, Jackie asked me if he could live there in the extra room since his dormitory was not air-conditioned. In both rooms, there were small wall-mounted AC units with remote controls that could be programmed to blow hot or cool air, but I didn't know how to operate them since the buttons all had Chinese labels on them. There was no such thing as central air in China. Early in the morning, I would hear someone outside of my apartment on the ground below yelling something that sounded just like my name. I was thinking, "Who in the world knows I live here?!" It almost sounded like the haunting call of a ghost. But when I went up to the window and looked around to see who was calling for me, I discovered that it wasn't anyone looking for me at all. There were several men and a couple of women who would ride their bikes around Hu Po, with a cart attached to the rear of their bikes that they used to collect cardboard and other items they could trade in for money. Sometimes they had small hand sized drums with small objects tied to them with string that they could twist in their hands to make sounds, like the ones used in "Karate Kid." They each had their own individual sayings that they would holler out repeatedly as they slowly cruised around the apartment pathways and down the road from early morning until late afternoon scavenging whatever they could find. One of them said something that coincidentally sounded like my name. Jackie became my loyal advisor during this time. He offered much insightful information about Summer and my relationship and about traditional Chinese girls in general. I was worried about the future of our relationship since she would be studying in Korea for three years. I didn't know if she would stop caring about me or find another guy who she liked more than me. When our relationship first began, she told me not to love her so deeply because she always thought she would find her Mr. Right in Korea. I knew that I was loyal to the core and would never release her if it wasn't necessary, but it seemed that she didn't have the same idea as I did. One day Jackie told me, "If she is the one for you, then nothing can come between you." But the other half of the time, he said, "Allow me to introduce you to one of the nurses at my hospital." But I wasn';t giving up on Summer that easily. Jackie would always make sure that I was socially presentable whenever we went out into public places. One day he told me, "I think if you straightened out your hair, that you would look like a Chinese." I couldn't imagine putting my precious curls through such treatment, so I told him, "No thanks." He also said, "You should livehere for a long time, maybe at least several years, and become a Chinese." I still had a lot to learn about the customs and ways of living in China that were much different from America. I had no idea what others thought about me when they would see me out on the streets. I was probably something a bit unimaginable to many of them as many of them were to me. Jackie and I would always wake up and have breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with Summer when we weren't all busy with other things. We would most often eat at restaurants next to the Hu Po police station on the main road. Walking along that strip on the left was the police station, then a shop that was run by an older couple and their middle-aged daughter who sold candy, drinks, instant noodles, Oreo cookies, hygiene products, and other miscellaneous items. After the store was a small family-owned restaurant with a mother, father, a middle school-aged daughter, and a son who was in preschool. After that restaurant, there was a store that sold dried beef, pork, chicken and duck that usually hung out on a stand in front of the store for advertisement. The owner of the store was a middle-aged man who had a short mustache, and usually stood out front with his arms behind his back as he watched the people and traffic moving through Hu Po. Then there was another small family restaurant with a father and son who both had big genuine toothy smiles, and a daughter who usually kept quiet, but helped equally with the responsibilities. There was another more expensive restaurant farther along the road followed by a barbershop that would often blast loud dance music at different hours of the day. At the corner of the street, there was a small and slightly expensive 24-hour restaurant with many windows along the side called Yong He that had two Chinese lions perched out front on either side of the entrance. The workers there had maroon colored outfits that reminded me of uniforms that bellboys would wear at a hotel, but not quite as fancy. After Yong He was a crossroads, where the main road curved off to the left and went past many small stores including a DVD rental shop, a grocery store, and a car shop, among other stores. The road curved around and then extended about half a mile straight out from the central area of Hu Po past a western style restaurant and the number 122 bus depot on the left where the road began to move uphill. On the right, there was a body of water with a bending and twisting dirt walkway and several sheltered sit-down areas on the eastern edge of Hu Po that stretched out towards the front part of Hu Po and was bordered by Changjiang Road. Near Changjiang Road, there was a park with cement walkways hovering over the water that linked up with a circular area next to the water where families sometimes come to play at night. Also, the park is a favorite place for newlywed couples to spend time immediately following their wedding where they can get their pictures taken together. The main road eventually went out to the eastern entrance of Hu Po where there was another road in a wooded area that was always flooded with a constant stream of traffic, but not many vehicles made their way down into Hu Po. One afternoon, Jackie and I were eating lunch at the family-run restaurant next to the police station. Usually there were no traffic jams because most of the drivers in Hefei will quickly find a way around any obstruction to keep from slowing down for too long. But on this day, there was a traffic jam that prevented any maneuverability on the thin main road of Hu Po. Many taxis were stopped in front of the restaurant in front of us, when a maroon colored bus number 122 came up quickly on the tail end of the jam, and the driver laid down on his horn impatiently. That driver must have been mad that day, because even after the traffic started moving again, he still had his hand planted on the horn for at least a minute, only pausing one time briefly. I could hear the bus after it disappeared around the corner of Yong He, as the driver tailgated the drivers in front of him and pressured them to keep moving with his horn. That man was on a rampage! |
| China Dispatch/Andrew Gramling On the streets of Hu Po |
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