So there were several reasons that my FAO Monica, and her two friends brought Aimee and I to Changsha two days ago. First of all, Aimee needed to exchange her travellers checks and apparently the head branch of the Bank of China in the Provincial Capital was the only place that could handle such a serious task. Second, there is fantastic shopping, which we'll get to soon enough. But must importantly to me, there was the Changsha Hospital where I would be getting my health check, pushing me one step closer to being a legal resident of China.
Changsha is a city the size of London... shocking because you have probably never heard of it have you? I figured that such a large city would certainly have top of the line modern health facilities. I figured wrong. Cramped in the back of the same small Chevrolet that had taken me around Liuyang I did not have any good views of the city and so I dozed off. I awoke to hear Aimee asking incredulously "Is this the hospital?" Not what I wanted to hear. The clinic was in a 'not so nice' part of town but that was not what worried me. It was the open air meat market next door that made me think "Well if the worst that happens to me is Swine Flu I'll be just fine."
Monica led me up a flight of stairs and into the office of the hospital. Here I had to fill out my information in triplicate, which I supposed was just in case they lost one copy. Such a thing would not have been rare judging by the office's 'filing' system, which was basically just a pile of papers. Actually it was just a pile of papers. After smiling for a picture I was given a small plastic cup and told to pee. "I'm sorry but I don't have to pee." As far as I could tell this was not an acceptable excuse. I drank three bottles of water and found my way to the bathroom. They were feral at best. It took a while, perhaps I was worried about the man next to me getting frisky, but the deed was eventually done.
Next up was getting my blood drawn. When I was a child I had to be held down for the doctors to stick a needle into me. I don't know why but my entire body would just fill with fear and I couldn't hold still. That same feeling of dread filled me again. I begged Monica to ensure that the needles were clean. She assured me that this clinic was modern and everything was sterilized. It took everything inside of me not to ask her why the entire place smelled like shit if it was so clean. But then again, would YOU want to be the one to clean up a Chinese Hospital? I then endured another hour or so of tests, oddly including an ultrasound (It's a boy by the way) and an extremely rude ECG nurse. The entire proceedings cost a total of 364 Yuan, remember this.
Aimee had trouble exchanging her checks at the bank and so I took this opportunity to get some lunch (I was forced to skip breakfast... I assume for the ultrasound). I found a noodle place with a couple of pictures at the register. I pointed at something that looked like it wasn't dog and took a seat. All of the Chinese seemed flabbergasted that a Westerner would walk into such a small shop and order something without asking any questions. I considered this and realized that even though I have spent almost two months (in total) in China this was the first meal that I had ever eaten alone. I felt proud of myself as I walked back to the bank. The owner had only charged me 3 Yuan, perhaps he was so shocked he forgot to charge me the foreigner price.
We had a couple of hours to kill before my medical results would be available so to the girls' (the Chinese girls, not necessarily Aimee's) delight we went to the mall. I would assume that the feeling I had as I went from the squalor of the hospital into the shine of the modern mall is analogous to the way that Angelina Jolie's kids felt after being airlifted out of Africa. Could this be the same planet? It was. The mall was clean and efficient and filled with workers. Each store had tons of them (workers)... too many, you would think, but really they were all very busy. This was the Chinese market that American producers so desperately wanted to tap. I sat in the M*A*C makeup store and listened to 36 mafia and Eminem. How could this be? Remembering that I needed some basketball shoes I went to the 7Th, THE 7Th, floor of the mall and found the NIKE store. They didn't have my size but I checked out a few models anyway. The price of the cheapest shoes in the store was 680 Yuan, almost double what I paid for my health check...
This is the paradox of today's China and I must say that it is quite wonderful to experience. Earlier that day I was (justifiably) worried that a qualified medical professional might infect me with hepatitis and now I was standing in a NIKE store with 100 Dollar shoes, and people were buying them. I think that this is really the best time to be in China... well OK the best time will be when the mall style of life hits the hospitals, but still... this country is incredible!
I do not mean to be demeaning at all in my account of the hospital visit. It was difficult, it was scary. But poverty is no longer endemic to the Chinese people. Sure there was a man lying on the pavement naked just outside the mall, but the point is that there is a mall. Progress is being made. Many westerners would want to ask what the cost of this progress is, but before you do ask what the cost of our own affluence is. In the US there are no naked men laying outside of our malls, our naked men are in Latin America, Africa, and parts of Asia. There is no doubt in my mind that the Chinese have room to improve, and a lot of room to improve, but perhaps we do as well.
C. Johnson
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