Chang'an Road

I just walked down one enormous block of Chang'an Road, the long and very busy street that runs close to where I'm living. I was on my way from the bus stop to a quiet dinner, and at this hour--7pm or so--it is incredibly active on that street. I thought that since this has been a total class prep, grading, and teaching day, I'd use this entry to describe the sensory overload that a short walk down a busy pedestrian area in Xi'an presents to a person from a medium-sized American city. First, I get off the bus. I was glad tonight that a man got up before me and headed to the front door of the bus just before it stopped. At this stop, there are always more people getting on than off, so if you're slow and wimpy like I am, sometimes the people getting on the bus are so much faster that the sheer force of them almost pushes you back into your seat. With this man in front of me, I knew I could make a break for it, and I did.

Just off the bus, here are some things I passed as I moved through the crowd of pedestrians. Vendors come out to sell their wares at night on Chang'an, and I walked past blanket after blanket, spread out on the walkway where sellers had spread socks, pants, umbrellas, jewelry, Expo memorabilia, sunglasses. Interspersed were fruit sellers. Just a man here and there with maybe one or two small wicker baskets filled with berries that I cannot name and cherries so much tinier than the ones we see in the supermarket. I passed a man with another basket in front of him, and I did a double take. Not fruit but fur. A curled up mass of barking puppies for sale.

I passed storefronts, too. A new hair salon was opening, and the sidewalk in front of it was crowded with a slew of well-coiffed young men shouting and waving to get the attention of passersby in need of a cut or shave. The KFC that I was told was open just days before I arrived had been standing empty for four weeks, but tonight it was humming with activity. Workers were gutting the place with sledge hammers, the fine dust rising from their work drifting out onto the street. I passed a sports gear shop, and in the window was a mannequin woman wearing a hat with a cloth face mask attachment for use in dust storms. I guess it's what all the fashionable dust haters in Xi'an are wearing this season. Down the street, a woman stands behind a high table. On it is a big wok filled with hot oil, and in front of that is a tray filled with skewers spearing a variety of meats and veggies, all ready for their hot oil bath. Next to her are two big buckets filled with sliced potatoes floating in water, ready for skewers at some point, I presume. All along the street are young people passing out brochures or ads for some restaurant or other.

Cars drive up on the sidewalk. They seem to share it with the walkers, but I'm not sure how this works. At one point in my walk, a car backs up and is just an inch or two from my foot. The car goes forward through the crowd, horn honking all the way. I walk behind it as it cuts a clear path towards the corner where it heads to the street, and I turn to go to my restaurant for dinner.






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