Babies “R” Us

Not that it matters—as I’m not in a position of authority in America or China—but I very much question how many people actually follow the one-child policy here. Babies are everywhere. I’ve been told that there are four babies in China for every one in the US, but it doesn’t seem like this could possibly be true. Maybe it’s because I live in Boston—where basically a quarter of the population is in college—but I see far fewer babies in America than this ratio suggests. Not that I’m saying I wish I saw more babies in Boston, I’m merely trying to point out a personal observation: in order for this baby factoid to hold true, most of Boston’s student populace would have to be parents. Anyone who knows me will probably agree that I shouldn’t be having kids any time soon, and quite frankly neither should the rest of my demographic.

Does coat-check accept kids?

The idea of my friends trying to raise children right now terrifies me. I hear news of people I that knew back in the day procreating, and it frightens me that they are raising the next generation of Americans. I shan’t mention any specific names, but I think we all know a few people who fit the description of “they just had a kid? Oh f***…”

But I digress. My point is that Baby (as Asian babies all look the same, I shall refer to them as a single entity) is everywhere. Really. Everywhere I look, I see future-Mao wearing his ubiquitous puffy jacket and pseudo-pants. You can’t walk down the street without Baby holding you captive as he goes through his usual daily errands: Baby walking; Baby sleeping; Baby defecating in the street; Baby eating; Baby throwing cats; Baby laughing; Baby playing with raw meat; Baby drinking Coca-Cola; Baby falling down; Baby darting in front of traffic; Baby running with sharp objects. Everyday it’s the same. On occasion you want to tell Baby to stop, but you just can’t bring yourself to pull him aside and explain “no, Baby, orange kitty doesn’t like it when you sit on his face.”

I’d consider some of his usual activities normal, but surely some of these are only until he knows better. It’s tough, but you have to watch Baby make his own mistakes. Baby’s parents seem to be of the mindset that Baby should learn through experience; quite the contrary to many over-protective American parents, Baby’s seem to adhere to more of a hands-off approach. Baby is rolling around in trash? Good for him. Maybe he’ll find something better to play with than those rusty scissors he has now.

I’m sure Momma and Papa Wolf have had a tough time watching me struggle through many of my own life lessons. There was never any shortage of advice, but sadly it was all-too-often cast aside in attempts to do things my own way (teenagers say the darnedest things, right?). And now, as Baby begins to go through the same motions that I once did, I have to just sit back, watch, and restrain myself from intervention: Baby’s first steps; Baby’s first solid food; Baby’s first bike ride; Baby’s first time driving a clutch; Baby’s first trip to Montreal; Baby’s first tequila shot; Baby’s first time waking up behind a toilet.

Oh, Baby, the places you’ll go.

Zai jian,

Jhw

Green Means Go

Unless you’re a car, van, bus, moped, taxi, truck, or motorcycle, in which case so do red and yellow. Although really, red and yellow don’t necessarily mean “go”, so much as they are just signs that you shouldn’t bother slowing down or stopping. And why should you? You, my dear Chinese driver, are the only one on the road. Therefore, there is no reason that you should follow rules or laws; 5 PM in Shanghai has essentially the same amount of traffic that Wilsonville does at 2 AM on a Monday. And despite the light clearly having turned red 5 seconds ago, there are no other vehicles on the road that might be in the intersection that you are not slowing down for. You have the right of way—always. And who could deserve it more than you? Your taxi is a gift from god that is exempt from moral righteousness and traffic signals.

And pedestrians? They don’t have wheels; they don’t have an internal combustion engine; they don’t have souls. Peons. If they’re not bigger than you—and few are—what concern is it to you? So don’t worry about giving them the “right” to walk across the street; it’s more of a privilege anyway. If they’re in the way, they need to move regardless of what their petty crosswalk sign may be instructing them to do. Little green man, or little red man, you’re still perfectly entitled to turn right, left, or hell, even go straight on red. After all, you’re more important than everyone else—especially pedestrians.

So keep driving Shanghai, and enjoy every minute of it. Someday you may actually have traffic laws to worry about...

Zai jian,

Jhw