Ah yes, the day comes when you have to confirm the family jokes about you being a hypochondriac. I swallowed a fish bone a week and a half ago and my throat still hurts probably as a consequence. After a week I decided to go get checked BUT this time S and I went to the fancy western hospital Richland. Strange experience, it was like entering a hotel. Fake plants and fake colonial style furniture AND Celine Dion playing in the background, what more could you want? They were nice and clean (almost sterile I would say) and I felt very bad for not taking S there when she was sick. We were chaperoned around by various nurses, doctors and receptionists; the musical accompaniment to this was an instrumental version of “my hear will go on.” Then you step outside and its horribly hot (oh yes, Kunming seems to have forgotten that it’s the city of eternal spring and is opting for a more “eternal july” approach to existence), the streets are huge and the buildings massive, cars rush around but there’s also a good amount of people walking along the sidewalks lined with trees. That’s the thing, in the US you could find such large streets, but no people on the sidewalks, in Europe you’d find those sidewalks but in some quaint little beach-side resort. It’s got it all, I guess?
The next day I accompanied S to get a physical. If you want a visa that lasts more than six months, you need to get one. If you’re in Kunming you need to explore the area surrounding the airport to find the “international hygienic center” or whatever the place is called. Finding it was hard enough. Knowing it’s very close to the airport the first step is to figure out which bus can take you there. This shouldn’t be hard except that other people—possibly people who happen to be your Vietnamese teacher’s pet wannabe classmate who no one can understand due to his really bad accent and strange attitude—might have mentioned the wrong bus number. Anyhow, getting there was not hard, it’s getting back at rush hour that is a different story altogether. After wandering in that grey heat that smells of asphalt and sewage we finally found the building. It’s ironic that it is located right next to a canal that looks like an open sewage for a nuclear power-plant. Anyhow inside the building it is actually clean and organized. Many Chinese men stared at us, but a small elderly Sri Lankan man came up and started talking to us almost immediately as we were standing in line. “I received a scholarship to study Chinese, AT MY AGE!” he grinned, he had various rotten teeth. He was waiting for his friend and explained all the procedures S would have to go through. He seemed lonely and out of place, but also quite excited and cheerful. After that he disappeared. Meanwhile, S got her chest checked (on the ground floor), gave urine and blood samples (on the first floor), got chest X-rays and ultrasound scans (back on the ground floor, but for some reason you should do it in this order), and other things that I’m not even clear about… then comes the best part: you need 3 passport-sized pictures. “you don’t have one? No problem, just go outside at the china mobile store.” So we do. The store is closed, but two friendly kids working at the convenience shop next door tell us to wait. Eventually, as we inspect gross-looking ginger candy, a man shows up. S goes to get her pictures as I debate whether I should buy strange-looking Thai coconut candy or not. As I opt for gummy coke bottles, she comes out of the little shop enraged. The man wants to charge her 20 yuan and we both know that’s too much because I have had my pictures taken before in Kunming. We sit in the little convenience store while the man goes off claiming he has business to attend elsewhere. He comes back after a few minutes and declares that 15 yuan is the lowest he’ll go. S glares at him with outrage. I try to push for 10 yuan, but to no avail. The man leaves us sitting in diminutive stools in a convenience store on a back-road near the airport. We decide to walk back to the hygiene center. More discussions ensue as the man comes into the building with us, apparently no one seems to find 20 yuan expensive. S continues to be outraged. The man and the ladies at the reception continue discussing apparently reaching a compromise that we are not willing to accept. Then, suddenly it occurs to everyone (and to the man’s disappointment) that S can just bring pictures in when she goes back next week to pick up the results of the tests. Finally everyone is content (except for the man who remains in the same position and stares at us walking away with confusion) and we can head back home (an hour long bus ride thanks to the horrible traffic jams… ah, don’t you love 6 million people cities with no subways???).
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