Chapter 1
It was a day like any other, or at least it felt like a day like any other. In reality there had never been a day quite like this day.
It was after all a new day, and even more specifically it was a new year. It was the first day of the new year, although that was according to the Western
calender. To the Chinese, it was a day like any other, but to two unsuspecting westerners, it was a special day. A day of new beginnings, a fresh start
to a new life, full of possiblities. The world was their oyster and they were out for adventure. "Carpe Diem" was their montra and nothing could stand
between them and the complete enjoyment of life.
They ventured out into the cold, bleak Chinese morning. A thick haze filled the air and the clouds
hung low in the air. It was an ominious warning, as if the world were trying to tell, "don't come out today!" But our heros didn't listen, they turned a deaf
ear and continued on their way. The forces of nature saw these two bright eyed, hopefuls and it pained them to know what would come their way today. So
they tried everything they could to force these two inside, to the safety of life in a sheltered world. When the two wanted to take picture, it would rain.
When they would climb a hill to see the city, thick fog would cover everything. But still, nothing would disuade the two. They were persistant, strong willed
personalities who could not be easily discouraged.
They stuck to their plan, followed their map, saw what they wanted to see (or at least what was visable) and at the end of the day they started their
journey home. Now if they had caved to the pressure and left early in a fit of frusteration, everything that was about to happen, wouldn't have happened.
They wouldn't have eaten in the restaurants they ate in, they wouldn't have walked down the street they did and they most certainly wouldn't have been on the
bus they were on.
But they were on the bus they were on. They saw the man, they talked to the man, they decided to take his bus. It was a good price, it was a nice bus,
what more could they ask for? So they got on, although already a sense of dread started to fill one of them. Maybe because she was a she, because she has
an intuitive sense, it's hard to say for sure why her heart sank sitting on the bus. It felt like someone was squeezing the life out of her as she sat there.
But that was just crazy, there was no way she could know what would happen.
The bus filled up slowly. Very slowly. The bus didn't leave until it was full. This is not the western way. This is the Chinese way. The bus drove in
circles. For over an hour. This is not logical. This is China. The frusteration of the contrary forces was starting to get to them. Nothing kills ambition
quite like repetition. It was like watching a 10 minute video clip running on a loop. The same thing, over and over and over. Same buildings, same trees,
same people. A true form of Chinese torture!
Finally the bus was full and they started out of the city. There was still a long way to go, such a very long way. Now any western person knows, travelling
and children do not mix. Any parent worth their salt knows you don't take kids on planes, trains OR buses. As the bus had filled, seating options had
become limited, and our intuitive female had a preminition that it would be a very bad trip with two infants seated directly behind them but what could be
done? The bus was full. So she hoped for the best, such a foolish optimist!
The bus had barely ventured out of the city. Their eyelids were just starting to get heavy when a frantic hand was waving between their seats, grabbing for
the plastic garbage bag attached to the seat back in front of them. Slightly confused and alarmed at the sudden hand in their faces, the two were jolted back
from the brink of dozing just in time to hear the sound. The awful, gut-wrenching, head spinning sound. It was like the worst sound you can imagine, the only
sound that could make your body want to rid itself of it's entire contents. What is it about that sound? Is it that we remember the feeling when we hear it?
Do we see into the future and know the smell that is soon to follow? Oh that smell, the only thing worse than the sound. Excuse me, I need a moment.
Alright I'm better. I'm sure by now you've figured out what sound I'm talking about. You know the sound. I don't have to say. You've been on a bus,
with children. But here's the twist. Because in China there's always a twist. It wasn't the children. It was the mother. Yep. That's right. Now some
people would think, child, adult what's the difference? But there is a difference. Let me tell you there is a difference. First of all, adults make a much
louder sound. It's a deep-throated sound, applified by vocal chords that are well trained in sound production, and assisted by throat muscles that know how
to control substances coming up and going down. Now where in the western world, people are trained to repress body functions and utilize their muscles to
exact self-control, the Chinese do the opposite. Muscles are trained encourage the release of all substances wherever and whenever the feeling hits. There
is no, "wait until you find a washroom". Oh no, you do not deny the urge when it hits.
So there they were, two unsuspecting victims. Prey sitting waiting for the predator to pounce. The sound. They heard it, they looked at each other and
the expression on their faces was priceless. It was a Kodak moment. The look of, "did you just hear what I just heard?" was frozen on their faces. Time was
suspended for a moment and then reality hit, like a blunt force to the back of the head. The smell. Oh that putrid smell. The stench of all that is gross
and disgusting in our world. The partially broken down food particles, reminiscent of compost, mixed with the acidic swill and bile that accompany the chunks
to make it an easier journey up the asophogas, that add a hint of sewage to aroma. Here is another way in which adults differ from children, especially babies.
See if it was a baby, the contents of their stomach would be much different. Primarily dairy, perhaps a little soft starch like rice or bread, but not much
else. But adults, well their stomaches contain a whole lot more. They have meat, and vegetables and spices and the sheer volume of an adult stomach is far
greater than a baby's.
So the smell hit them, and then comes the natural reaction. They wanted to lose their stomach contents too. But being the good westerners that they are
they didn't. They repressed and repressed and repressed (a new found form of abdominal conditioning I might add). Maybe it'll pass they thought. Maybe this
isn't real. Maybe it's all just a bad dream. But it didn't pass. Minutes stretched like hours. Hands, scarves, perfum; nothing could stop the pentatrating
smell. The reality of the situation felt like a heavy weight pressing down on their chests, pushing the air out of their lungs. The journey had just
begun. If every minute felt like a hour, the trip would last a life time! Oh the injustice! What had they done to deserve this? Who had deemed it right or
fair that they, the only two western faces on the bus should be seated here, right in front of this?
Could it get any worse? Never ask that question. But always be aware that things come in threes. There is something so complete about three. It's this
perfect number, the first odd prime. There is power in three. A tripod provides stability and balance that a two-footed ladder never could. Father, Son
and Holy Ghost. It's a good number, but a frightening one all the same. The sound, the smell, what's left? Well so far only the ears and nose were
engaged in this whole experience. The eyes, the hands the mouth, were all free from the nastiness...but not for long.
What happened next was divine intervention. It could have been much worse. It's hard to believe I'm saying that, but it's true. One quick flash of
inspiration, male intiution perhaps, led our leading man to glance down and by now I'm sure you can imagine what he saw. His quick reflexes took the other
by surprise. What is he doing? That was all that could pass through her mind before she saw, and nearly contributed to, the physical manifestation of the
the sound and smell. The perfect tri-fecta. All of sudden the reality of his reflex actions made sense in her mind. The bag! Yep. There it was.
The backpack was sitting there, amidst a sea of spew. So it was lifted, but far from rescued. It brought all the vividness of their imaginations to life.
Everything they had seen in their minds was now there, right in front of them. It was too real. Despite all her efforts, it was to no avail, the taste rose
in her throat. She swallowed hard, but that action brought with it a deep inhalation of the polluted air, and now the pollution was right there and the smell
was so much stronger and she could see it and it was like watching a car crash in slow motion. Her eyes were fixed on the scene, she couldn't close them, but
staring at it just made all the termoil inside her body worse. If he hadn't been there, she would have lost it. That's why people are better it twos. By
some feat of strength, he overcame his nausa and started wiping off the bag. Watching him touch the flith was too much, finally she could close her eyes.
The nausa started to pass. The taste was still there, but feelings were under control for the moment.
Just when it felt like nothing could save them, that they would die right then and there in a pool of someone else's rejected body matter,
suffocated by the interminable stench, the bus pulled over. Hallelujah! Salvation was found! People got up to get off the bus and before anyone could blink
the vacated seats had been filled. Fresh air filled the deprived lungs and oxygen rushed through their blood creating a slightly dizzy, light headed
euphoric feeling. Ah! The simple act of breathing is enough to make someone fall in love with life and cause them to appreciate every simple thing that
people all too often take for granted. Never again would the sweet smell of unadulterated air be so callously unappreciated by these two. Maybe in a way,
they were already on their way to the new understanding of life they were seeking this year.
Chapter 2
Several hours had now passed since lunch, and given what had all transpired on the bus, as soon as the two were freed from the prison they had been transported
in, they escaped to find a washroom. As they walked, distancing themselves from the whole debacle with every step, they mused that they could still smell
the smell, it was like it was following them...oh no...oh yes...it was still there...the bag had not gone through a thorogh enough detox regime. Okay, now
it was all the more imparative to find a washroom!
KFC, the mecca to our frazzled and emotionally dishavelled westerners. Never had a fast food joint been so appealing, not for the food of course, but for
the fact that it had plumbing, and sinks and oh yeah, SOAP! Something seriously lacking in China! So naturally the line for the ladies was long, there was
no line for the men. While the woman waited, the man washed the bag and departed behind the closed door to deal with his business. Now here's where it gets
gross folks. I won't sugar-coat it. This is a fact of living in China. Sometimes you eat at a little hole in the wall, and most times your body reminds
you why you like living in a country with health standards and kitchen regulations. Now for some reason or another, good genetics or a pre-disposition for
Asian cuisine, who knows, our female felt no ill effects from any of the food they had eaten. Such was not the case for our good gentleman.
Before I continue you need to understand something about Chinese washrooms. Toilets is just a term used to refer to bathroom facilities. In reality,
most places don't actually have toilets. Swaquatters are far from primative though, especially in an American institution such as KFC. So we're talking
about porcelin, plumbing, not just some hole in the floor.
So back to our gentleman. You can all imagine feeling that comes a few hours after eating something that's slightly off. The cramping, the discomfort,
the liquifying feeling...not pleasant. I'm sure you can all also imagine the flood of relief that comes with the sweet release of all the toxins. So there
our gentleman squats, feeling the rush of joy of ridding his body of everything. Perhaps this was a symbolic act for his body, a complete removal of everything from
the previous year, an internal cleansing for the new year. It seemed a fitting end to the whole experience from the bus. A steaming pile of brown whipped
cream atop the sickening ice cream sundae the lady on the bus had served up for him.
As the feeling of relief was beginning to pass, it was replaced by feeling of disgust. What was that smell? Surely not the bag again...no...this was a
different sort of smell. What was that? who was creating that stench and why were they sharing it with the rest of the world? Then it hit him...he had
created the smell. But nothing he had produced had ever smelled that pungent, that ripe, that, that...what's the word...completely and utterly replusive!
And just as the thought passed through his mind, "this is the worst smelling s*** I've ever taken", he heard the plop. It was as if the thought caused it
to happen. Because that's how things go. Our brains have amazing powers that way. You think, it can't get worse, and it does. But if you hadn't thought
that, it probably wouldn't have. So if he hadn't realized this was the nastiest dump of his life, it probably wouldn't have happened. But he did think it, a
and it did happen. Because really, what's a pile of whipped cream without a cherry on top?
It wasn't the bag, thank goodness! But what was it? Dare he look? Did he really want to know, or should he enjoy a few more seconds of blissful ignorance.
What could it be? Finally he had to look, and there it sat, staring at him, perhaps even mocking him. The embodiment of everything he had and was. All his
money, all his identification, everything that told the world who he was and what he had. He couldn't leave it. He had to go in after it. It was his wallet
after all. People die for their wallets, this was the sacrifice he was going to have to make.
Now, there were many locations the wallet could have gone where
at least he could have found a clean corner to pick it up by, but this, this was right in there, nestled snuggly in it's soft, warm bed. He tried the tentative
approach, but that never works. If you're going to go for something, you've got to commit right from the start, otherwise it's just going to get harder and
you're going to get even dirter than if you'd gone in with no fear right from the start. So he committed the error of allowing fear and trepidation to control
his actions and the result was a sinking feeling for both him and the wallet. As he watched it go down into the dark depths, he sunk to a whole new low that
day.
To his credit, our guy knows how to rise from the lowest of lows and knows how to do what needs to be done. So in he went, saved his life from literally
being washed down the drain, and came out a stronger person for it. China had not got the best of him yet! Much soap and water were consumed and eventually
he emerged victorious from the men's washroom. A modern day hero who had just slain his dragon.
Chapter 3
One can appreciate the confusion that had swept over the female as she exited the woman's washroom only to find no man sitting awaiting her arrival. Could
it be that he had taken longer than her? Surely not. He had no line and she had waited for ages. But still, she couldn't see him anywhere. Perhaps in his
impatience he had gone outside the restaurant to look around. So she checked, but no, he wasn't there. Maybe her eyes had deceived her and she had walked past
him without noticing. So back she went, but all the faces were unfamiliar. So she decided to sit and wait. If he had gone somewhere, surely he would eventually
return once he realized he had left without her.
In time all was revealled. The conquering hero returned from battle and shared the tale of his conquest which then made everything clear. Now the sheer
ridiculousness of their day overcame them, and all they could do was laugh. It was one of those, laugh to keep from crying moments in life. What a way to
start the year off.
And then, as I mentioned before, everything comes in threes. Before either of them could even utter the condeming words, "what else could happen?", it
happened. They turned a corner and there it was. The complete contrast of the Chinese way of life, shoved in their faces like a cream pie. He couldn't have
been more than four years old, definately old enough to walk, talk and function as a person, but perhaps not old enough to understand what other people might
think. Then again, his mother who was there and really in many ways the culperate in this hanis crime, should be old enough to understand there are some
things in life the whole world need not see.
Not one minute away was the KFC and countless other restaurants with fully functioning washrooms, and it's not
like you have to eat there to use the washroom, so really it would be not big deal to take your child to an actual washroom and allow him the privacy and
decency of using facilities with doors and sinks. But that is not the Chinese way. As I said before, they actually train their muscles to release bodily
fluids whenever and wherever. So they rounded the corner there he stood, pants at his ankles, on the main street of a tourist town, cars and biking whizzing
by, people walking all around. His mother stood over him, showing him how to aim, not that he had anything to aim for, except the welcome mat outside the
store they were standing in front of. So that was it. That was the climax moment of the day, seeing the poor ignorant Chinese child being taught to pee on
the welcome mat of another person's place of business in front of hundreds of people. No shame, no respect, that's China.
The moral of the story
It sounds so degrading, so negative, I'm sure to hear stories like this. But you have to look past the superficial. Past what we in the western world
have deemed as gross and look at the raw, uncensored manner of living. Life is survival, and who cares about appearances or what other people think. what
does it matter to them what you're doing? Why should they look down on you as lower than them just because you have to pee? See as foreigners, it's so
easy to come here and see what you see and smell what you smell and think, "wow we are so much better than them!". But that's not the point. I don't recount
these tales in an effort to feel superior, but rather in an attempt to help take you on the same journey I'm going through in coming to a new understanding
of the human condition. To look at this day, this terrible, terrible day (we named it S***hole Day in honour of it being so terrible), and to see some value
in the experiences. And what was interesting was that by the end of the day, when it came time to go to sleep, I felt better about the day and the new year
than I did when I woke up. So how about that. Sometimes the crap in life teaches more about how to be happy than the good stuff. Happy New Year!
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