This is how I am reminded on a daily basis that I am in fact in China and not say, Tasmania (in the very case that such a confusion arises):
- I go to Maccas and instead of apple there is taro in my pie. (Absolutely deliciously addictive by the way)
- I can now turn a blind eye when mothers with babies on their back chase me for money on the streets, because there are so many of them.
- My yogurt has pieces of aloe floating about it.
- I have yet to open a bottle of water without spillage because bottles here are always filled to the rim. (But I am in no way complaining. Only grateful that I receive my money’s worth of water.)
- My main form of transport is a bike. EDIT: Actually, taxi. Yes I live like a millionaire here.
- It is more than common for a building or entire apartment block to spring up overnight.
- Something else ridiculously common is the gathering of large numbers of people (young and old) outside parks, apartment blocks and shopping centres after dinner every evening for a strange exercise/dance routine. The atmosphere is amazing (and oozes with the fundamental elements of Chinese ‘collectivism’) and I plan to participate one day. See below
Filed under: Life., exercise, mothers with babies, taro pie
