Morning notes and words from the back of a taxi

I woke this morning to an eerie, orange sky and rain drip, drip, dripping outside my windows. No floodlights were on outside my apartment... simply a strange and leering sky that seemed to hide something... something beyond the streelight-like glow flooding in through my drapes and lightly flicking at the wood of my living room floors. As I took a glimpse outside, I was trying to figure out what, exactly, the sky was trying to hide. The spring rain was falling lightly, so what was being concealed?

Upon my departure, I learned what it was: snow. More particularly, snowflakes the size of beachballs. It's March 20th. And there's a tangerine-coloured blizzard outside my door.

I hopped in the back of the car that was taking a few of the teachers into the city. Normally we're on a minibus, but because of the small numbers and the terrible roads, we rode in luxury in the Passat.

The clouds weren't the only orange-hued actors in this morning drama. As the snow built up on the windshield and the wipers pushed them aside, the brownish tinge was unavoidably obvious on the car's glass. All that lives in the sky was soon being absorbed and sent to the earth. In China, this is not a positive thing. If you don't believe me (although I'm sure you do, considering you all know what happens to the air quality in a country of 1.35 billion people), check this out.

Luckily, even with the eerie omens and messages from friends assuming it was the apocalypse, we made it into town without any 2012-ish happenings.

After sorting out getting some new clothes made (I've had some good success with a tailor suggested by none other than DS), running some errands and making a trip to Ijea (Ikea), I found a cab driver, bartered a price to get me back to school, and hopped in the back seat. Typically I just take the bus back home, but I had a bag full of sundries (and new dinnerware) from my excursion and didn't want to fight the Saturday crowds on the 40ft limo. It was going to be worth the investment.

Once we began driving, the driver got on his phone to confirm how to get to the school. Although I have the address written down in Mandarin and can point him in the right direction, most drivers don't have the faintest clue where the school is. A minute later, he hung up his phone and started pulling over, explaining that the fare should jump by about 20% because it was farther than expected. Knowing how much it should cost and knowing that the price was more than fair, I just told him he shouldn't have quoted me the price, and I wouldn't budge. I was polite but stern, and after a minute of arguing, the guy laughed and said okay. Some would've just kicked me out, so I was having a bit of luck. So, we were on our way.

He reached for his stereo to get some tunes going. And what, my friends, was the first feature from the CD in his deck??? Michael Jackson's Christmas Album. Yes. It's March. And the King of Pop's holiday tribute began pumping into my ears over the sounds of my IPod. The driver looked back at me grinning, asking me if I like MJ. "Of course!" I reply, laughing at the absurdity. He probably didn't know it was a Christmas album. I just embraced the weirdness. MJ was followed up quickly by some Chinese techno music (he was SERIOUSLY pumping the jams. I don't think the tinny speakers could've handled too much more juice), and the techno kept us occupied the whole way (35 minutes) back to the school. And it was awesome.

I successfully survived Armageddon, navigated my way through the nutty Erqi market, was able to communicate what I wanted for my clothes (2 dress shirts and a pair of dress pants for about $50 Can., perfectly fitted. Awesome), bartered with a cabby and got home all the way to Daheishi with money in pocket and sanity in tact. And just a few minutes ago, I glanced outside my window again to see more orange, but this time it was the orange and red of a brilliant sunset over the BoHai Sea. Life in China, March 20th.

T