Lost on Planet China: One Man's Attempt to Understand the World's Most Mystifying Nation Read Online Free PDF Page A

swerved, smited competitors for position, and in leaps and fits made our way into the city. The taxi driver drove without consulting his mirrors, and often, far too often, we’d swerve into another lane, sending cars screeching and swaying in every direction, and as my heart palpitations threatened to turn into a full-on cardiac event, the driver calmly sipped tea from his thermos, smoked his cigarettes, and unleashed the clamor of his horn. Chinese drivers, I was discovering, speak with their horns. They blast it when they’re about to pass someone. They blast it while they’re passing. And they blast it when they’re done passing. Then they blast it some more, just because. Then there are the other horn blasts, the short ones that convey mild irritation, and the long Munchian screams that reflect a troubled soul. Together, the blasting horns converge into one endless sonic wail. We tolerated no other car, until a black Audi A6 with tinted windows rocketed behind us, flashing ominous blue lights and a panic-inducing siren. Swiftly, we changed lanes, and as the Audi sped ahead, we returned to its lane and allowed ourselves to be pulled in its wake.
    “Police?” I asked.
    The driver indicated otherwise as he again offered me a cigarette. Around us, the scene had turned into something familiar. There were thousands of squat apartment buildings constructed in the flimsy Communist-bloc style I remembered from my time in Eastern Europe. They are called panelaky in Czech, soulless and austere apartments designed to crush the soul. Most were in advanced stages of dereliction. But throughout the city, everywhere and in immense numbers, there were also cranes. It was a city of cranes. It was the invasion of the cranes. They stood atop hundreds of buildings as if they were nesting. There were big cranes and little cranes, yellow cranes and green cranes. They ruled the city from their perches in the sky as a toxic haze swirled around their steel facades. They were the tools of Beijing’s transformation. They were destroying buildings and they were creating buildings. Above all, it is the cranes that dominate Beijing.
    Darkness descended and there was a long moment of gloom. What? I thought. Did they not have electricity in Beijing? Did Chinese cars not come with lights? And then, as if some unseen deity had flipped the proverbial switch, Beijing emerged in a sea of light. We passed restaurants bathed in a harsh fluorescent glare. This pleased me. It was familiar. Chinese restaurants with bad lighting. It was just like home. But this wasn’t home. I had, of course, seen Chinese characters aglow in neon. I had been to dozens of Chinatowns. But this was the mother of all Chinatowns, and these thousands of signs, all presumably offering information, directions, imploring you to buy this and do that, were utterly alien to me. I understood nothing, a sensation that disturbed my psyche. I felt profoundly out of my element.
    We careened around a corner, scattering pedestrians and cyclists. Why did he do that? I wondered. They had the right of way. Was my driver an asshole? He did not seem like an asshole. This was perplexing. He drove as if to kill. Why was this so? Finally, I was deposited at my hotel, and I was left with my head throbbing with jet lag and sensory overload.
    I entered the modest lobby and waited for the woman at the check-in counter to notice me.
    “WHAT?” she barked.
    “Er…I have a reservation,” I said.
    “PASSPORT!” she wailed.
    I gave it to her.
    “ROOM 587! KEYS! GO THERE!”
    I thanked her for her kindness and made my way to my room. Off the lobby, there was a restaurant full of Chinese patrons. That’s always a good sign with Chinese restaurants. As I stood waiting for the elevator, a woman rushed out of the restaurant carrying her toddler son. She stopped beside me, opened the flap of his pants, and directed a stream of urine into the ashtray to my right. When the boy was done, they returned to their