They Do That
One of the first things you notice about a
Chinese city is the traffic noise.
Not, I should say, much in the way of squealing tyres, screeching
brakes, sickening thuds and angry shouting. It is also only fair to concede
that there is not a lot of engine noise, nor the cacophony of muscle cars and
motorcycles that frazzle the nerves of North American pedestrians. And blessedly there is almost none of
the “my ride is my boom box” sensibility that litters the soundscape of places
like Los Angeles (and which the local feral psittaciformes
and cacatuoidea are fully capable of
mimicking from a tree outside your window at sunrise!). None of that.
Here it’s horns. All sounding off at more
or less the same time. From the
first hint of dawn until late into the darkest parts of the night
.
Trucks, buses, taxis, bicycles (!) motorcycles
and millions of private commuter cars.
Parps, beeps and blats, blares, brays, hoots and toots, chimes, tingles
and of course, honks. At the
clotted intersection in front of Jilin University, along the broad boulevards
of Gu Gui Street, on the massive freeways, and even on the narrow quiet side
street that backs onto the foreign teachers’ residence where we live, someone
is sounding off in their vehicle.
I say someone,
but in actuality it is everyone.
Demure petit shop girls, burly bus drivers, business women and men, delivery
drivers, students, kids on bikes, street sweepers with strange little
three-wheeled carts, and venerable seniors ferrying precious grandchildren to
school (the Chinese equivalent of soccer moms): they are leaning on whatever
noisemaker the automotive gods have seen fit to provide.
But why are they going on like this? Is Chinese traffic really dangerous?
Might there be some sort of previously undiscovered mass road-rage epidemic?
No. In fact, it seems that there are as
many reasons to sound a horn in China as there are Chinese in vehicles to do
so. Taxis, for instance, honk
whenever they see pedestrians in order to give side walkers an opportunity to
flag a cab. Bus drivers are
telling customers at stops that yes, they have been seen and the bus will
indeed stop. Motorcycles are letting you know that they have slipped between
lanes and now is not a good time to turn right. Everyone everywhere is
communicating constantly, letting everyone else know where they are, and
acknowledging the presence of the others.
A possible exception to the above might be
the venerable seniors, whose primary purpose in sounding off seems mainly to
delight the aforementioned grandchildren.
All of this is quite annoying at first. It
is hard to maintain a state of inner peace (or even moderate digestion) when
one is continually startled by a sudden blast coming from behind. The heart
lurches, a quick involuntary inhalation, the stomach tightens, teeth clench and
adrenalin bursts forth in a systolic surge. Why the hell, one wonders, can’t all these people just get
on with the mundane business of going from A to B without the infernal
racket?
Wrong question. Back home in the overdeveloped world, traffic has lost its
essential interactivity and connection.
Chinese traffic noise is vivacious: the sounds of Gershwin and the
Roaring Twenties performed in real time and real life on the streets and byways
of daily life. The minor thirds,
counter rhythms, syncopations and leit
motifs of the city are a rhapsody of colours – not just blue, but reds and
gold too – performed enthusiastically by its citizens against a backdrop of
life, action, and yes, a whole world of sound.
And like any other music, the song of the
city begins and ends in silence.
In the late hours of the night, in the heart of the city, quiet does
return. Nothing can be heard but the crickets. Everyone shares the brief cessation. Lights will be on in
the residential tower across the way, police, first responders, and those
people of the night who have kept this civilization going for over two thousand
years are all out and going about their business. But there are no horns, no
sirens. The air is still.
space of quiet,
(When)
Hi Liz:
ReplyDeleteNow that summer is ending, I am catching up on my blog reading. Sounds awesome!
Really, I am procrastinating! Now that I am up-to-date with you and other friends, I will get to work.
Enjoy and keep the blogs coming......
S.