W.A.T.C.H.: Future Perfect

Greetings from the world of tomorrow!

This city doesn’t fit the profile for the clean and sterile utopia of Huxley’s[1] imagination. I’d say it more closely resembles the decaying and crumbling not-so-distant future of Caurón[2] or Scott[3]. In all fairness though, for every site of baffling urban decay there is a shiny new façade to draw the eyes of the skeptic visitor. Honestly, I think these flashy new steel and glass monoliths are part of a thin veneer to cover up…well I’m still not exactly sure what there is to hide. All the remnants of a truly ancient culture are eroding in the face of unrelenting progress.

However, in the spirit of tomorrow there are several fascinating devices and customs that have developed in this not-so-distant landscape of the future. These have started to appear more and more as the mercury has dipped (A brief aside about the weather: when I first arrived in China the temperature was hot but not intolerable. Now, nearly midway through December, I walk outside and I think that it could be any month in the late fall or winter. There aren’t nearly as many of the weather hazards that I’ve grown accustomed to during my life in the Midwest USA). That being said, I find that the Chinese are far less tolerant of the cold than Midwesterners of good stock. Many of these aforementioned devices in the world of tomorrow are related to the declining temperature.

I’ve noticed that the locals have an affinity for keeping their forearms warm. In some instances, this desire to protect the forearm is entirely logical and necessary. Take for example some nifty forearm-guards that I’ve seen on the motorcycles and bicycles. These fur-lined mittens will cover the handlebars of any bike, and from there they extend to cover the arm well past the wrist. These make sense to me; I can appreciate the ingenuity and necessity behind such an invention. But then there is another incarnate of the Chinese desire to keep the forearm toasty; and unfortunately, I see very little logic or reason behind this accessory. The forearm smock, or extra sleeve, is the confounding piece of apparel that I’ve discovered. What drives people—outside of food services—to wear a pair of these hideous sleeves? I cannot say. But I see students wearing them sometimes; and I must admit that when I see someone wearing these pointless sleeves outside their winter coats, I feel genuine contempt for that person. They may have done nothing to offend me outside of wearing these obnoxious sleeves, but that’s all it takes.

In other news, my Welsh friend Michael was back in the hospital last week. Michael has, by his own admission, pissed away his health for the better part of the last ten years. He’s only twenty-four, but twice in the last month he’s had to go to the hospital to treat air pockets in his lungs. These uncomfortable ailments stem from his regular smoking habit since age twelve. I make no judgments about Wales based on my one Welsh friend, but it’s fair to say it’s a different world where smoking is picked up by twelve year olds. Anyway, the hospitals are a real comic experience. In the one location of this futuristic world where one would expect to see a clean and sterile environment, quite the opposite is true. Any Ding, Zhou, or Wang from the street can bring in his oversized fruit cart or motorized tricycle. They’ll wheel their buggy right into the lift, bring it up to the floor where their relative is being treated, and carry on as if this isn’t an egregious encroachment on everything medical. The hospital staff will just work around these obstructions. Nobody bats an eye, even though untold bacteria are being carted in with these mechanical beasts of burden. I suppose it’s more sanitary than allowing the donkey-driven cart into the hospital ward, but it’s still a curiosity. And of course smoking goes un-checked by the nurses and doctors, even in the respiratory ward.