Portrait of an LBX

Today was quite the day, as Hebei is quite the place. After last night’s hour and a half local police fiasco at our cheap little hotel, we assumed the whole affair done and laughed it off as just another example of why we should avoid third-tier, middling cities. As we left the hotel this morning, and I got my deposit money back, the laobanniang (boss lady) gave us three apples for the road and said she admired both the courage it takes to be on such a journey and the way we talked to the police as it displayed how much we know about China and that we got out of the situation much better than any laobaixing could have. When I asked her name, she said, “please don’t put my name into anything you might write about your trip. We laobaixing have enough trouble.”

Not thinking much more of it, we went across the street for cheap grub after the obligatory pictures with the babies of all the other business owners in the vicinity. After the first bite of my shaobing (baked flatcake), the boss lady tapped me on the shoulder and asked me to go back to the hotel with her. Upstairs a plain-clothed, middle aged Chinese man showed me his Public Security badge and asked who I was, what I was doing, if I had stayed in the hotel, and a lot of nonsense questions. Finally he asked if the boss lady had registered us the previous night.

“Of course, we were registered. Four policemen came and took over an hour of our time making copies and going through our bags.”

That, however, was not the problem. Apparently the policemen had taken the copies of our passports for themselves, and the boss lady had not registered us in her computer herself. I tried pleading with him that of course, the police knew we were here, but he said that it’s not my responsibility to mind this affair. I suggested that if we all gave our passports now to make copies for the register, would that end the whole matter? So I went out and made copies of our passports after telling the guys to come for me if something happened. When I got back, the boss lady was sobbing at her desk. Through her sobs she told me they were going to revoke her business license and close her down. I tried to get her phone number or ask her to let me go downstairs to fetch money for her to pay to the policeman, but she kept saying it would only make matters worse. I asked her ten times about ten different solutions I could think of, but she didn’t want me to talk to the cop who was sitting in the back smoking or to go out and bring her money or anything. She just kept on telling me to remember that she was a good person and that she didn’t do anything wrong by agreeing to take us in, and that we will always be friends.

Enraged and befuddled, I walked downstairs and told Andy and Alexis about the situation. After much debate, we decided to all throw some money together and have Alexis take it up. He took it to her, but she refused several times. He gave her his cell phone number and promised to call us to let us know what happens.

So we left Wen’an with what Andy referred to as, “a bad taste in our mouths.” As I predicted before we set out, our major problems over this trip would all come from the government or their thugs (police). It’s likely, as we speculated afterward, that the cops are just trying to shake the hoteliers down for a huge fine or bribe. Either way, it stinks, and we are dying to remove ourselves from Hebei. Incidentally, it has finally occurred to me what is the biggest difference between here and Taiwan from my perspective. Today I’m sure it’s that only in idiotic dictatorships that everybody has to be registered to Big Brother at all times. In a place with nothing to hide, three goofball bicyclists with thousands of “USA-China Friendship Bicycling Team” cards would be seen as innocent and probably ridiculous, but not as terrorists or international pariahs.

Fortunately though, it wasn’t all bad today. We managed to get lost in some little village dirt roads covered by huge piles of corn husks among endless rows of corn and between little houses with courtyards covered in corn husks and husked corn (have I mentioned they grow some corn out here?). After getting really lost in one, we found a family of 5 with huge plastic sheets under trees, whacking them with huge bamboo poles. When we went up to talk to them, we found out they were harvesting dates, which have just come into season. When the papa of the family found out we took three days to get there, his wife told us he had once ridden to Beijing on a bike in one day. I’m glad they have appreciation for long bike rides (and that they called us out on being slow). Anyway, the point is that we still love Chinese people and even China. It’s just those prickly pricks in charge of things who bully locals for no goddamn reason who destroy it for everybody else. From here on it, hopefully we’ll leave places with the taste of good Chinese people and sweet dates and not the sour taste of oppression.

And as Alexis says, “nique la police!”

Former Filling Station Turned Corn Lot