Exercise. Pneumatic. Sexual. Anarchy: Xiamen…

There’s a lot of ‘exercising’ going on in Xiamen, although it’s not the kind of exercise as we know it – based on my observations: people flinging their arms over opposite shoulders whilst walking (this is sometimes augmented by forcibly banging both hands together), slamming fists simultaneously downward upon both thighs whilst sat down, walking/jogging backwards (swinging arm gestures optional). There seem to be classes for such activities held in Zhongshan Park (as seen in the previous video post, Xiamen Wanderings – 27/02/12), and every night I am treated to a kind of dance class that takes place just inside the park’s west gate, whose incessant playlist has so far remained unchanged, night after night after night after night… (maybe I should get out more in the evenings – or, take along my own playlist of tunes for them to dance to?!).

Actually, I do do my best to escape the noise (not even my practice room at the university is immune) and take refuge in Xiamen’s numerous quiet spots to do a spot of running every night around the lake (Yundang Waihu) up at Bailuzhou Park, either by winding my way there via the busy Xiahe Rd. and across to the seafront; or straight up the Douxi Rd. (type ‘Xiamen’ into the Walk Jog Run website to view the mortbutane routes!).

Running along these streets/roads is definitely NOT for the faint-hearted. As nobody seems to walk on the pavements very much here one would think that this would be the perfect place to run – not really, since many of the small shops that line the streets often spill out and extend onto the pavement, leaving the road (and sometimes the oncoming traffic!) the only option. It’s been great for sharpening one’s reflexes and I’ve got quite good at overtaking people riding electric bicycles, dodging people stepping out without looking where they’re stepping, car doors opening suddenly, cars pulling in and out without warning or due care and attention… The concept of giving way in the traditional sense is non-existent, as is any good measure of tolerance towards pedestrians.

Perhaps this lack of awareness is what led to quite a bad smash I witnessed at a crossroads on the way to the university the other day. The van in the video just ploughed straight into the silver car after at least 3-4 seconds of tire squeal. Too fast, too late. I’m surprised that I don’t see this kind of thing happening more often. I really like the laid-back anarchy of this place most of the time. Everything works, everything flows – even if it is against all the rules – whatever they are?

Also encountered were various street stalls selling a large and good-quality selection of CDs. Mostly classical. LOTS of boxed-sets, to which I am VERY susceptible. Amongst the gems were lots of ‘complete’ sets: Shostakovitch Symphonies, Beethoven String Quartets, Vladimir Horowitz recordings, complete Herbert von Karajan on Detusche Grammophon, Radiohead, various Beatles boxed sets, Keith Jarrett – Sun Bear Concerts £7. Yes, £7. Much of them are priced on a per disc basis, so a 10-disc set = £10 – and so it goes. I bought this 16-disc set for just £15 – not bad considering it’s around the £50-70 mark elsewhere online.

Nice to have the booklets and the nice artwork, isn’t it? The best part about it is that they are all GENUINE. There are various theories about how and why these items have been allowed to make it onto a street stall on the outskirts of Xiamen city centre. I’m just glad I’ve happened across them. I’ll be going back there for many more before I leave…

On a final note, I discovered one food item that definitely didn’t like me: Red Date Yoghurt. I bought an eight-pack, thinking that it would be nice – you know, I’d hastily glanced at the packaging in an overwhelmingly-busy supermarket and from the packaging just assumed that it might be something like cherry yoghurts. Nope. Upon opening it a small pack of straws fell out. Straws? Yoghurt… I did persevere with it, though – it took about 3 or four spoonfuls to decide that actually, the yoghurt was putrid. I opened up a second one – just to be sure but that one was even worse. I didn’t open a 3rd and quietly deposited the rancid little cartons in the downstairs kitchen fridge, hoping that they’d be eaten up along with the packets of sweet frozen olives…

I was going for the Jon Voight look in Andrei Konchalovsky’s Runaway Train, here. All I needed was Eric Roberts shouting from behind me: “Shoues, Shoues, oh, Manny – give me SHOUES I gotta have SHOOUES”. And, like Red Date yoghurt, Runaway Train has also to be experienced to be believed…