Basket-Brawl?

The girl's basketball teams here in Sanming City, deep along the south east coast of China, play an interesting brand of b-ball. It is rough and tumble, full of mindless violence, like a brawl or riot, without the over turned cars or torn out store fronts. The teams move as packs around the ball, swirling around it like the dirt and horrid smell twirls around Charlie Brown's friend, Pig Pen.



I often see the girls from my ESL Classes practicing. Their coaches, usually some boys from the P.E. Department, try to get the girls to execute basic skill drills. And for the most part the girls do OK with the drills. Well, they do well as long as they are simple lay-ups or fast break drills. Otherwise, it is pandemonium, and the practice becomes an 8* person stampede to capture the ball.



At game time, it breaks down into anarchy, with nary a foul called. Of course, it fouls were called with any consistency, the game would never be played. Well it would never be played in a fun, meaningful, way. Rather the game would consist of the opening tip-off, a foul, free throws, and either a mad scramble for a rebound or an inbound pass, either of which would result in a foul. Repeat these steps-without tip-off-until time runs out or all the players foul out.



Seldom is a girl far from the pack. If a girl is alone, standing away from the violent horde, it is because one team is about to score and she is setting up to either start the fast break, or try to stop it. Just as likely she is taking a respite, gathering a moment of peace, away from the flying elbows, dagger like hand strikes, or the bone crunching slaps; all of which are intended to secure the ball, force the other team to relinquish control, or just as likely to add to the violence of the scrum. She will stand there breathing heavy, eying the riot. Perhaps she is regarding her chance of success if she reenters the swirling madness. Perhaps she waiting for the optimum opportunity to pay back whom ever launched themselves into the pack last. Or maybe she seeks to avenge her inglorious spill on to the concert
floor of the semi-covered outdoor court. And if in the process, she knocks the ball loose or wrestles it away, then all the better.


Often times before the lone girl decides to crash into nucleus of sweating, writhing bodies, a teammate spots her and attempts to launch the pill through flailing limbs and the twisting mass of hands, faces, hair and bodies. The ball is pushed up and over the throbbing mass. Sometimes the rock makes it to the intended destination. Just as likely it is to fall short and be re-consumed by the mob.



If the lone girl does get the ball she makes a mad dash towards the basket while trying to remember to bounce it. Sometimes she is able to enact the lay-up she has spent weeks practicing. Yet, more often than not the mob catches her and the ball before she makes it half way to the basket. It envelops the girl, moving like a swarm of some supernatural menace in a bad horror flick. This madness continues until the game is over.



Through out the game, I am yelling at the refs to call fouls in my bad Chinglish. And after awhile I give up wanting them to call fouls for my team, I find myself begging for any foul to be called. For the love of humanity, for the sake of the girls' health, for all that is good and Holy, call a foul. Yet they seldom do. The girls end up with black eyes, bruised limbs, scraped knees and lips. And I end up horse and thankful I don't have to play against my students. And the students don't mind when I get horse, that means they get to watch movies in class. I don't mind that myself.

Driving in China

Drivers in China need skills beyond the basic driving one: Buddha-like patience, eyes in the side of the head, and reflexes like a cat, a super hero cat-just to name a few.
The traffic comes from everywhere and all at once. There are so many starts and stops, it seems impossible to reach one's destination. Traffic is passing on all sides, and some fool-driver is passing a vehicle which is already passing another vehicle. People are stepping into cross walks, and jumping out of alley ways. Old women, with bamboo carriers holding dangling baskets of chickens, veggies, sand, eggs or some such things, barrel into cross walks with nary a traffic checking glance.
If the driver is a cabbie, mini bus or moto driver, he or she needs to keep alert for potential fare pick-ups. These drivers will whip a u-turn with no concern for laws, traffic, animals, or limb. And that is after they pick up a fare. Or they will stop in front of the bus stop and harrass folks-honking, heckling, and staring at people until someone gives in or the driver gives up. Why even a shake of the head no is enough to earn an extra 5 or 10 seconds of bedeviling. I found the safest spot to be, when a cabbie spots a fare, is indoors. And whenever I found myself in a cab, or other vehicle driving through Chinese towns or countryside the safest option was to close my eyes.
Of course I could have grown eyes in the side of my head, honed my super hero, cat-like reflexes and taken up driving. But I would either still be waiting to make a left handed turn, or waiting for the tow-truck and probably the ambulance.

I have moved back to the states. I have been home since the summer and have enjoyed the break. I miss alot about China. I miss my students, my friends, the food, learning new things and meeting new people. I plan to go back some time next summer, probably after the olympics.

I almost forgot to mention the number one thing it takes getting use to here in China, as side from the anarchy that is driving; the bathrooms.

They come with with a varied features, but usually they all have only one smell. The features range from little more than a missing wooden plank over a hole or drainage ditch (which inevitability leads to a creek, river or stream) to more modern and Western style facilities (which inevitability leads to a creek, river or stream). Some have paper, most don't, so bring your own or you will suffer mightily. Many have piles of used paper and other items like tampons, trash as well as things that fall into your guess is as good as mine, piled in a corner or around a trash bucket.

Most of the ones outdoors have the usual spiders with their webs, as well as other creatures, like mosquitoes, moths, lizards and local Chinese bugs mostly big, black, or small brown and neither very attractive as bugs nor at this time identifiable.

Indoor johns are usually little better. The condition of their pleasantness proportional to how nice the business or house is, i.e. either loads of money and close to Western standards or not. Some even have sitters and not squatters. The really nice ones even have soap and a hand drier, but not one have I found with hot water (which is for making soup or tea).

The one thing most of them have in common whether indoor or out, Chinese style or Western, is the stench. Sometimes it is light and dainty, like a hint of tarragon or a sprig or cilantro in some horrid and putrid dish. If this is the case it is due to air freshener of some kind and some workers or home makers elbow grease. Most times however, it is overpowering and punishing, like a blow to the head, The first couple of times I utilized a Chinese facility I was sucker punched by the stench and once or twice gagged, almost vomited and was almost brought to my knees.

Now I proceed with caution, the only suprises now are when someone leaves a gift lying around. And it is still a bit shocking to walk in and see someone squatting minding their own business. This is due to the fact that most hoppers are like high school, no doors. And God and everyone can see you. Let me tell you, as shocking as it is for me to see them, it is doubly shocking to them to see me minding my business.

Any more I try to save my important business for home or if I must someplace like McDonald's (which is Chinese style, but it has doors and is usually on the light and dainty side when it comes to any assault on the ole nose. Either one of these cuts down on olfactory overload and on running into too many suprising that comes with China living.