"Most things about it, yeah," I say.
"What you don't like?"
I guess there are a few things. The street nearest to the old campus is louder than any part of Manhattan I can remember, and it's really no different from any other street in Wanzhou. People spit everywhere. People stare. People yell.
Most of that doesn't really bother me though. Either I'm used to it or I participate. Chinese people think I'm interesting to look at. Well, guess what, they're interesting for me to look at, too. And since people yell, "HALLO" at me quite often, I have instinctively taught myself to respond with こんにちは. I really enjoy when they actually know what "hello" in Japanese sounds like, but for the most part they probably just think they misunderstood my English.
Usually I tell my students the same thing: the pollution.
"You're over-polluting, China," I usually think to myself as I walk to the bus atop the small mountain where the new campus is located. You can see far from up there. Or, I mean, you would be able to see far from up there, if there were no pollution.
The last clear day in Wanzhou was November 7. I know because I was so amazed at how far I could see that I went on a long walk to take some pictures of how––for once––beautiful the city looked.
Not a single day since then has been half as nice. I took a picture the following day when the pollution returned. My plan was to post two pictures. One with pollution, one without. I have the day with pollution. I've had it for two months. But the clear day hasn't returned, and judging by the dirt-coated leaves, it's going to be a while. All I have to show for my plan is one picture of pollution and some blackening lungs in a tightening chest.
I haven't seen the sun for two months. I'm used to that feeling, but I wish I weren't. That's how it is in Wanzhou, but not all the cities are the same. I have a friend in the north that sees the sun almost every day, but he's probably lost feeling in all of his limbs from the cold.
In my mind I unrelentingly blamed China for not enacting laws and taking measures to solve such an obvious environmental issue, for over-polluting and endangering their world and mine.
How could they be so careless?
This is a comic made by Chinese cartoonist Fan Jianping (范建平), which I found at the Chinese Media Project.
The Chinese Media Project labels the man in the chair an American. I suppose he is intended to be American. But I don't think this portrayal is or should be limited to my nationality alone.
What he's saying is a familiar phrase: "You're polluting too much."
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