人山人海
Ren
Shan Ren Hai
People Mountain People Sea
I love this delightful Chinese idiom.
It is a perfect
snapshot of a subway car so packed with human flesh that you can smell the
garlic on the brother’s breath inches away. Ren
shan ren hai…
Walking through the hallways at lunchtime when 880 kids in
red and green sweat suits are running around in pubescent cliques. Ren shan ren hai…
You are so used to biking amidst the zoom zooms and the
bikes and taxis and buses, it’s like some sort chaotic web of spokes, wheels,
and honks. Ren shan ren hai…
 |
| Tian'anmen Square |
There are beautiful ripples about
ren shan ren hai. If
there were no people it would be a lonely dusty orb of a planet. People are the
crown of Creation. Without the people in my life and in my city, I’m like
macaroni and cheese without the cheese – just a bland limp noodle of a man. God
commissions us all to be fishers of men. He commands roll up our sleeves and
get messy in the messiest of businesses – the people business.
There are also ugly ripples from ren shan ren hai. Humans
weren’t meant to live in such close proximity. Being herded onto the subway like cattle is a
vile “invasion of personal space.” In Wisconsin, if you accidentally bumped
someone with your elbow, if you politely crashed into someone’s fender while
riding your bike, if a car honked at you – there would be punches thrown. But
here in “people mountain people sea” territory, it’s a fact of life so get used
to it.
Despite the casualness of not taking the elbows, crashes,
honks personally, I have seen more fights in my 12 months in China than I’ve ever
seen in America during my 22 years, 5 months, 4 days, and 18 hours of life. My
theory is that when you put someone in ren shan ren hai territory, and they
are constantly surrounded by the black-haired masses with no fresh air, no
place to run, to roam, to spread your wings and inhale the horizon, people get
edgy. A balloon can only be poked, elbowed, squished, and squeezed before it
pops. Humans are no different.
I’ve broken up three fights in my China life. Here they are:
1) I was walking from
the subway to the Cloister and recognized two 15-year-old waiters from my
favorite Muslim restaurant yelling, grabbing, flailing, spitting at each other.
I shot in and grabbed one of the dudes and carried him to a quiet corner of the
alley to cool off. He was probably 78 pounds. The next day they were laughing
and working together; calling each other, “little
nancies” in Chinese.
2) I was playing
basketball at the courts across the street and one dude was getting a bit too
physical. He was a chubby guy who was better at ball in his dreams than in
reality. You know the type. He was guarding me. One of my teammates passed me
the ball but it hit Chubs in the thigh and he stomped off and popped my
teammate right on the cheek. I got between them and started blocking Chubs like
an offensive lineman for about 4 minutes and 43 seconds till he walked off the
court.
3) This was the most
serious and the most recent. I was waiting to go out with my buddies Larry and
Wang Chen. It was Singles’ Day – 11.11.2011. In China there is this lame
holiday that celebrates singles every November 11th. Kind of like
celebrating picking your nose. Anyway, I’m waiting for Larry to pick me up outside
of KFC and there is a street vendor who was selling hats and scarves right next
to me. I’m just thinking about food and horses and Reese Witherspoon when I
hear this man start screaming at this woman walking her bike a few feet away.
She wasn’t happy about the price of his rip-off scarf, so she must have said
something that hinted at his lack of manhood and he responded by screaming drunken
scathing slurs then walking over and kicking her bike over then shoving this
college student to the ground. I was only a few feet away so I immediately
shoved him away with my left hand and helped up the trembling girl. She was
maybe 25. She thanked me profusely for protecting her.
I got her on her feet, picked up her bike, and walked her
away. A gawking passive crowd had formed. Watching the injustice, cursing the
drunken fool in their minds, but too afraid to not be a statue. After the girl
was safe, I arrogantly walked back to my spot where I was waiting before,
crossed my arms, and looked at the fool. That was the nonverbal invitation for
a fight. So, he and his three buddies form a horseshoe around me and started
yelling at me. I smiled and responded with a line I know all too well, “Ting bu dong” (hear but don’t
understand). They came closer and closer but I didn’t move. One dude took a
bike lock and pressed it to my clavicle and muttered something venomous like, “You gringos don’t even know how to properly
cook eggplant.”
At this point my heart is racing, but I keep up my stupidly
stoic “ting bu dong” routine. Eventually
another sober vender comes over and takes me by the elbow and escorts me away
from the drunken hyenas.
Ren shan ren hai.
