Creativity is great, but plagiarism is faster

Sitting in my bed tag-teaming Jasmine tea and Tsingtao, my legs are bearing painful witness to the strange adventure I had today. My dad was able to get me a train ticket to NanJing--the former southern capital of China, but now just a small town of 6 million--where I had planned to visit all sorts of old/interesting places. Unfortunately, I had to wake up early to beat the work traffic to the train station; the trip to NanJing takes 2 hours as well, so I wanted to be off as soon as possible.

My cab driver should have been my first hint that the day would be eventful; he kept looking back and staring at me for prolonged periods while navigating through traffic. He also had a cough that sounded like “uhuh, uhuh, uhuh;” nothing like early-morning affirmation to kick start your day.

As we passed Times Square, I noticed a group of middle-aged women doing a choreographed dance. Curious to watch what I thought was their early morning aerobics, I popped my head out of the window to get a better look. What I saw next was somewhere between Saturday Night Fever and a Jay-Z video: A few other words came to mind, but “appalling” seemed appropriate at the time.

164368 (cab driver) proceeded to honk at anything that moved and everything that didn't. By this time I was sweating due to the oppressive humidity, and decided that he was probably just blowing off steam and that it was therapeutic for him. We finally made it to the station, where I stopped to order breakfast at KFC. I never eat KFC in the states, but it's one of the few American options in China. Ordering there is always an exercise in patience, and today's experience was much the same; this time, we got hung up on what size meal I wanted to order. I'm fairly confident I ordered an egg, cheese, and sausage muffin, but I've given up trying to identify tastes here.

After much good-natured elbowing, I found myself securely seated on the train. It's actually a very well-maintained train; the seats were nicely padded, and I felt somewhat spoiled to be traveling in such luxury after our last long, bumpy, unpadded day trip in a taxi. The two men next to me spoke English, but most of their vocabulary consisted of profanities. You know how non-native English speakers always make swearing sound really unnatural? Yeah, well these two were pro's; every vulgarity was annunciated perfectly, and the emphasis was all wrong. For swearing to be affective, it needs to be slurred and the delivery needs to be casual; these two did neither, and I was forced to listen to their abnormal cursing until I slipped the headphones on and took a brief nap.

Soon, I stepped off the train and found myself in a crowded square overlooking the Xuanwu Lake, which was the first stop on my list. The lake was hauntingly beautiful yet it had a solemn, almost somber feel. The air was the haziest I've seen since I've been in China, but it embellished the calm presence of the lake, making the sky and the lake blend into one. A light breeze blew over the water causing light ripples; trees and plants grew all along the banks, and water lilies were everywhere.

I walked west, following the edge of the lake. Gardens, forests, and bungalows all played a role in creating the incredible scenery and I spent a long time meditating on the serenity of it all. As I meandered west, thunder rumbled off in the distance and bolts of lightning lit up the southern sky. At first I was excited for the impending rain, and as expected, a light drizzle began to fall. I was ecstatic: Everything was working out perfectly, but things were about to change drastically.

Walking through a garden, I heard the loud snarl of thunder and looked up in time to see a bolt of lightning bigger than I'd ever seen shoot down and stay in view for 3-5 seconds. Here was when I first realized that the light drizzle I had been so happy for was going to transform into an unwelcome guest.

Sadly, I was right. Huge drops pounded down on my exposed body, and I started looking around frantically for a refuge. Just as I had despaired of finding anything better than a small grove of trees, I saw a gate in the city wall that was the border of the entire park. 10-15 other visitors had taken up shelter there, and I sprinted down the steps and in through the great wooden doors. I hoped to wait to wait there for several minutes and let the worst of it pass, and then return to frolic in the humid showers, but the wind picked up and the rain pelted down even harder than before. I found myself stranded, and wasn't able to leave for another hour. While there, I got hear some young Chinese boys sing along to “You Raise Me Up” by Josh Groban, over the sound of the wind/rain… good times.

After finally leaving, I continued to walk around the lake, but was now despairing of doing all the other things I had planned; when it rains in China, it's almost impossible to find a taxi, and none of the other public transportation information is written in English… This is where having a translator would be convenient.

I left the lake, and walked out into the city. To my surprise, the first intersection I came to was completely flooded! It seems the rain had caused even more upheaval than I expected, and I was forced to face the inconvenient truth(al gore) that I would not be able to accomplish my other activities. Discouraged, but not defeated, I trudged down that same road, looking for alternate forms of entertainment. I didn't find much, but I was able to procure an umbrella, eat at McDonalds, and form a blister on each heel. By the time I needed to start heading back, I realized just how far I had walked, and my legs were beginning to groan with every step I took. I was able to make it back to catch my train home, but once I arrived in Shanghai, it was raining here too, so I had to fight with hundreds of other train-riders for taxis…

But I'm finally back and happy to have seen what little of NanJing I was able to access. There's a lot to be said for going on random adventures by one's self in a country where all you can say is “hello, goodbye, thank you, and you're welcome.”