For China, economic power is a just spitting distance away

My husband and I went to Beijing and Shanghai over Holy Week. Our official reason was that we wanted to contemplate on and climb the Great Wall of China before we get too old and end up renting a wheelchair to see the site. But the real reason was that we wanted to see our son who left for Shanghai a week before with his grandparents. My dad insisted that my son should stay in Shanghai for a month and learn Mandarin, as China would soon become, if it is not already, an economic powerhouse. He said that six was the best age to learn a new language. That was his official reason. Of course, the real reason is that when you retire, you want your grandchildren to join you in your retirement. The original plan was for two months, but after arguing with him, I managed to bring it down to one month.

My husband and I took a connecting flight from Hong Kong to Beijing. On our flight from Manila to Hong Kong, the flight attendant asked my husband, "You ordered a light meal, sir?" My husband looked bewildered. "No, I did not," he said.

The flight attendant looked at her list and said, "But it says here that you did, sir."

I said, "Yes, he did!" I had been dying for this moment as it has come to a point where the gap between my husband’s age and waistline is narrowing. My husband asked me if I ordered that light meal for him. I told him I did not, and I really did not. It must have been his secretary, and even if it wasn’t his secretary, it really didn’t matter as long as he had a light meal.

He asked the flight attendant if there was any other meal, and she said, "Sorry, all meals have been counted." Yahoo!

I joked with him that being a lawyer, and a lawyer from the Philippines at that, he should’ve chosen to demand an apology from the airline if no one really ordered a light meal for him. After all, it was the season for lawyers and apologies. The bar exams results had just been released, meaning that there were a thousand more new lawyers in the market, and Vice President Guingona was demanding an apology from the Mexican government.

On our flight from Hong Kong to Beijing, it happened again. The flight attendant came up to us and said, "You ordered a light meal, sir?" Without any hesitation, I said, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"I wonder who did this to me," my husband said.

My husband settled for rice and steamed chicken (white meat only with no sauce or seasoning) while I enjoyed my plate of seafood curry, which I refused to share with him.

Whenever I go to a new place, I always see to it that I buy a travel guide and I get tips from someone who has been there. I do not like organized tours because I hate waking up at 5 a.m. and getting hauled in and out of the tourist bus like cattle when I am supposed to be on vacation. I also do not want to take the risk of finding myself in an organized tour that turns out to be disorganized, just like the one Philippine STAR business columnist Boo Chanco was part of during his recent trip to China (read his wonderful column "China Really Means Business" in the April 1 issue of the STAR). This time my tipster was Charlene Panutat, daughter of my good friend Linda Panutat, head of Bosom Buddies, a support group for breast cancer survivors.

Charlene studied in the Beijing Language and Culture University for a year and knows the place like anything. She gave me an awfully great guide which was even better than the guidebook I bought. She gave me tips like, "See the Mao Zedong Mausoleum. You can’t bring a bag in – might have to check that in. Unless one goes in first and the other holds the bag." The line to the mausoleum was so long that if I didn’t get that tip, my husband and I would’ve wasted our time waiting for each other outside. So the morning we visited the mausoleum, we brought someone with us, who was literally left holding the bag.

But back to the start of the trip, as I mentioned in my piece about Shanghai, the first thing that strikes you when you see the major cities of the world is the vast road network, and in many cities, the absence of garbage on the streets. We can blame the government for our garbage problem, but we also have ourselves to blame. We think the wastecan is a basketball ring and throwing garbage, a basketball game. But while we try for a rebound in basketball when we don’t make the shot, when it comes to garbage, we don’t bother to pick it up when it doesn’t shoot in the can.

If we don’t see a garbage can, we just dump the stuff on the street and expect someone to clean up the mess for us. The Chinese know where to throw their garbage – into the garbage can – and the government makes sure there is a garbage can in every street corner. In our case, try putting a garbage can on the street, and overnight, it disappears into the home of a Sputnik Gang member.

The Chinese, though, still have the bad habit of spitting on the ground.

While walking the streets or falling in line, you just have to pray you won’t hear that "krrrohhkkkk" sound coming from the person beside you. But if you do, the only thing you can do is run for your life or freeze on the spot before the spit lands on your shoe or, worse, on your shirt. Many times you could see the sign "No spitting," whether in public parks or inside taxis. But don’t laugh. Our "bawal umihi dito" sign sounds worse, especially when you see someone peeing against a wall that says exactly that. There are public toilets all over Beijing and Shanghai for the convenience of the public. We need these badly too, but if there’s one thing that’s probably preventing the government from having them, it’s the fear that the Sputnik Gang will run off with the toilet bowls, too. (To be continued)