Beijing to Hanoi - Grounded: A Down to Earth Journey Around the World - page 54

tion platform or a busy street. When we tell people about our journey, they often ask—as delicately as pos-
sible—if we're getting along. Our pal Lachlan asked, somewhat less delicately: “At each other's throats
yet?”
Any long-haul partnership will have moments of strain. The proximate causes of the arguments are often
minor (“Did you lose the map?” “No, of course not! Wait. Maybe. . . .”). Meanwhile, the true conflict takes
place deep below the surface, where the tectonic plates of two different personalities—pressed together in
constant contact—occasionally grind.
Spending fifty straight hours in a shared railway cabin, or nine days together on a cargo freighter at sea,
presents a much greater test of commitment than spending six hours sitting in adjacent seats on an airplane.
Both joy and tension will be heightened, and it's vital to choose your travelmate with extreme care. I've
chosen wisely: Rebecca has not abandoned me en route—even though I left the contact lens solution on the
ferry from Kobe.
THE first thing we notice about Bejing is the pace of development. There's already more unbroken, pol-
ished plate glass in the three-block radius around our hotel than I think I saw in the entirety of Russia. There
are cranes everywhere, and a new skyscraper seems to go up every half hour or so.
The morning after our arrival here, we decided to take the subway to the new Capital Museum on the
other side of town. We checked the map to figure out which subway stop to get off at, and Rebecca noted
that the system should be a breeze to navigate because there were only a couple of lines. After touring
the museum, we took the stairs back down into the subway station. A team of workers there was in the
middle of pasting up a revised system map. They'd literally opened a whole new subway line while we
were strolling through the museum exhibits.
At this point, when we go out for the day, I half expect that by the time we return to our hotel we'll find
a sparkling new monorail humming past the rooftop. Perhaps a streetcar line rumbling through the lobby.
A small Kentucky Fried Chicken franchise operating out of the coat closet in our room. (They do love their
KFC here. The menu's been tweaked for the Chinese palate and includes dishes like lotus root and pre-
served egg porridge. I wonder, is it mere coincidence that Colonel Sanders, viewed in just the right light,
looks very much like an elderly Asian man with a Fu Manchu mustache?)
We've come here as preparations are heating up for the Beijing Olympics. There are sparkling new sports
facilities all over town and a burgeoning excitement in the air. People seem to view the games as a coming-
out party for modern China. The government is adamant about making a good impression on Olympic
guests, so the state TV stations are airing public service announcements advising Beijing residents on how
to interact with foreign tourists. The PSAs teach people to say “Welcome to Beijing!” in English. They also
discourage mildly rude, locally accepted behaviors—like spitting in public.
Given the amount of loud, voluminous expectoration we've been witnessing around the city, I would
deem the antispitting campaign a less-than-total success. Public spitting seems to be deeply ingrained in the
culture. Anyway, I don't see the harm in a good spit, so long as you don't hit someone else's shoe tops or
shins. I hope once the Olympics have ended and the tourist crush is gone, a new set of ads will pronounce
it safe to start spitting freely again.
In addition to the loogie hocking, I've noticed a couple of other local behaviors of potential interest to a
scholar of regional mannerisms. Both, coincidentally, are most often exhibited by elderly Chinese women:
1. In the midst of a conversation, older Chinese women will sometimes get angry and—without any
warning—very suddenly boost the volume and the velocity of their speech. This has happened to
us a few times now, mostly during exchanges with pushcart vendors when we're somehow screw-
ing up the transaction. Since these women are speaking Mandarin, which we don't understand, it