How to Die in China

I had only been in China for about an hour, yet I had almost died twice already. My death was to come by way of a traffic accident involving me as a pedestrian fatality.

Upon arrival at my hotel, I was eager to get out and see this new world. Perhaps a bit too eager. I did not bother to unpack. I just threw my luggage on the bed, splashed some water on my face, combed my hair, and headed out into the streets.

I knew there was a main shopping district a few blocks away from the maps I studied before my trip. It was on the opposite side of the street from the hotel.

I looked both ways and began crossing the street. Before I could get to the center line I had cars and trucks whizzing past me both front and back with barely an inch to spare. After nearly a minute of holding my breath the traffic broke just enough for me to run for my life to the other side.

Several blocks later, again I had to cross the street and again I was nearly smashed into the pavement. This was getting serious. One near fatality is one thing, but two for two required some serious consideration. I stood at the intersection and watched. I had to figure out why it was so dangerous to cross the street in China, yet the street was not littered with dead bodies.

It must be me.

As I watched, I noticed that there was an unspoken hierarchy in the street. At the top were trucks and buses, then cars, then bicycles, then last and least; pedestrians. It seemed it was the job of cars to stay out of the way of trucks and buses. Bicycles gave way to them as well and additionally to cars. People were at the bottom and yielded to all of forms of travel.

I understood. Since then, I have been able to survive the streets there.