How to Survive the Roads (and Water) of Fujian
How to Survive the Roads (and Water) of Fujian by Caitlin Brooks
I suppose the first rule of the roads is that there are no rules.
China and its roads have provided me with the second scariest road experience of my life, it was only yesterday that a bus nearly careered into the back of us. I don’t understand the road system, I don’t pretend to understand the road system, and I don’t think one exists. Although, road system or not, the understanding between everyone seems to work. Seriously. Unprotected motorcyclists, pedestrians, the unwritten laws prevent accidents. When I say pedestrians I include myself, a foreigner. Outside our accommodation there is a crossroads and sure enough, following the Chinese example, you find yourself walking straight across. Blinding crossing the road and walking in the street, avoiding street food sellers, has become second nature. Something comes over you, cars just drive around you and no one has been hurt, yet. It’s bazaar, but as the saying goes it if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
If I could though, I would brake every horn in China. Are incessant horns a vital part to the chaotic organisation? No. During the past week I haven’t been able to make any sense of the thought process behind the use of the horns, surely they only serve to annoy me! Horns are not something that blend into the background of Xiamen life. If you are within 10m of a road you will hear a horn. Surprisingly, or rather unsurprisingly for China, pedestrian walkways are also for the use of any two or three wheeled vehicles, as well as people. This was highlighted as we walked through a Zeng Cuo An, horns sounding from bikes left, right and centre. This convinced me that the taught hand position is one hand on the steering wheel and one on the horn. A brief relief from this was our trip to Gulang Island. It has one type of motorised vehicle, the rubbish truck, of which we saw two in six hours. It was beautiful.
The trip to Gulang Island set my expectations of the coming weeks. After visiting Justsun in the morning and learning about the work they do as a supply-chain service provider and then having the best lunch so far, we got in the coach and then left for the Island. Arriving at an airport like terminal we waited for Kathy to get our tickets. Throughout being stared at/photographed by others travelling to Gulang Island, as we soon learnt this was to be a common theme to our trip. The sun was sweltering and the day was long and involved a lot of walking. However, through this came one of my favourite early memories of the trip, the garden set up by the owner of the largest private villa on the island for his children to play in. Dripping with sweat and resenting the ever-energetic Kathy, the struggle was worth it, the breath-taking views the top of the gardens offered blew me away. Kathy was right to frogmarch us around the island and I don’t regret one step. The lack of concern for his children’s health and safety was almost laughable, the chaotic tunnels merging to reveal the wonderful view amazing, summing up China in a garden
This brings me onto the general complete lack of concern for health and safety in all aspects of Chinese life. Some may say in Britain that our health and safety standards have gone crazy, the saying better safe than sorry comes to mind. It’s mind-boggling the lack of prevention taken; no protective clothing or helmets, not even for children. It’s dangerous. Maybe I could understand this if everyone was an angel on the road, the speed limit was 5 mph and the only vehicle was a motorbike, but it’s not, it’s very far from it. Diving into the smallest spaces and forcing your way through the traffic is not a safe way to drive, it is like something you would see playing Mario Kart. The only difference is the lack of contact, I have not witnessed any accidents and hopefully will not either.
That is not to say we haven’t come close, well to naïve English eyes we have. Fortunately the Mount Wuyi river rafting does not have the same consequences as the roads if vessels were to collide. The river rafting experience, for me, summed up China perfectly. Seats placed on the raft rather than being connected to the bamboo stalks of which the craft was made, a light warning from our tour guide, Sue, not to move too much and randomly assigned life jackets that felt like they were more for show instead of possibly saving our lives. And yet here I am writing this blog, amazing. The casual cruising into other rafts without much care, when trying to overtake the boats in front, lead me to the conclusion that if it wasn’t for the physical nature of the steering that the drivers would have joined us looking at the stunning views. If the waterways were roads I’d be dead, but the point is that they’re not. Do I think the drivers are slightly insane? Yes, but I am in China and probably would be disappointed with anything less.
Maybe I am over exaggerating, maybe I am part of the ‘sensible’ western outlook and need to appreciate the wacky ways of China. If I described this to someone they wouldn’t believe me that the system works, it works and more than that it somehow ties China together for me. The parallels between the culture, strangers, and the roads act as one. I guess if there was the same road system in England as in China it would be like walking through the Arctic wearing a bikini, it doesn’t work. To survive the roads and waterways is a tricky business, but can be done. Go with the flow, don’t question the madness and most importantly do as the Chinese do.