quelquefois

Chinese people do not know any limits. This, of course, has both positive and negative connotations.

One day in November, when only 2 elevators in my 40-storeyed apartment worked (which is often the case), I decided again that descending 11 flights of stairs is not a strain. However, when I reached the dark stairwell around floor 2, I almost stomped into a  huge pile of shit.

Seriously? You’re almost home. I understand the urgency associated with having to wait for the elevator, but–excuse my description–if it was still a recognizable mass, it really couldn’t have been that bad, could it? And let’s not mention the time in Harbin when I saw a grown woman crouching at a bus stop during rush hour doing you-know-what. Oops, I just did.

Public urination and defecation should really be censured and discouraged. If not by the government, then at least by passersby who I am sure find it just as uncomfortable to watch as I do. This applies to other nasty habits that Chinese people exhibit, from public spitting to cutting in line to smoking inside the elevator. It’s not Western cultural imperialism, it’s basic respect for other people.

Though on the positive side, their knowing no limits means they can replicate sections the Great Wall in chocolate and likely pull it off in a kitsch-tastic manner , and like my coworker demonstrated earlier this week, they can come into work immediately after the last final exam of their undergrad career. They can erect buildings with cunning speed, they can they persist and maintain positivity through tumultuous times, all while remaining relatively modest about their achievements.