Suzhou is no small town. It boasts a population of 7 million residents and another 7 million who aren’t official residents (each citizen has an identity card specific to that city…you need to apply to municipal authorities to become a resident).
There are two things that are pervasive here. Two-wheeled transportation and uniformed security personnel. You cannot sneeze without bumping into one or the other. Thursday night I decided to go “off grid” and skip the organized dinner. I wanted to get a sim card for the iPad and a bottle of wine…not rice wine again, please. So I stayed back, chatted up the concierge for some coordinates and got into a cab. The driver laughed when I tried to tell him where I wanted to go so I showed him my destination on Google maps. This is when I discovered that drivers here rely on their car horn more than their brakes…in fact, I’m not entirely certain the taxi had brakes.
I arrived safely to the area with the shops, crowded with the sights, sounds and smells you expect from a bulging Asian metropolis and made my way to China Mobile. Muddling through a conversation with a young and professional looking woman there, I found out a passport was required for a sim card here…the passport that was back at the hotel. Fine. I’ll get the wine and go back for the passport…cabs are cheap at 10¥, or about $1.65, per trip. I searched the streets for a wine store but then realized that I didn’t know what a wine store sign would look like since there is very little English around here. I took advantage of the guy trying to sell me some tea leaves to ask if he knew where to get wine. Luckily his girlfriend speaks English so we chat a bit and soon I’m off to the grocery store where they sell, aside from groceries, clothing, hardware, furniture, motorcycles, liquor and wine.
The cab ride back to the hotel follows the same pattern, me using Google maps to point to my destination. Back at the hotel, where they need my passport to register me as a guest, I show up at the front desk and politely request my passport. Apparently, this a problem. There is a bit of a panic, staff consult each other, a manager is called in.
“What is the problem sir?”
“No problem….I would just like my passport back please.”
“ummm…certainly. Just one moment…”
She walks away and there is lots of discussion between staff. A phone call is made. More talking. The clerk then hands me the phone… I’m expecting that there will be senior official from the secret police on the other side.
“ummm…hello?” I answer nervously.
It’s Joe…our guide. He wants to know why I want my passport.
“Joe, I just want my passport. Can you make that happen?”
There is an awkward pause and the audible sounds of mental gears spinning.
“uh mm….yeah, sure….no problem”
“Thank you” I tell him then hand the phone back to the clerk. Five minutes later I’m back into a cab heading downtown, mouth agape from the death defying antics of my cab driver whose horn seems to have become a warning to others of his absolute lack of knowledge of the rules of the road.
The kind young woman from China Mobile smiles as I return to her desk. I hand her my passport and she begins the paperwork but we soon discover another problem…she sells only the full-size SIM cards, not the microsims the iPad requires. “I could cut?” I offer. She frowns. She then writes some Chinese characters on a piece of paper with the number 100 sandwiched in the middle.
“what is this?” I ask.
“You go there. They cut for you.” she offers helpfully. I tell her I don’t know where that is but she advises me to give the paper to a cab driver. When I ask her how far it is she simply smiles sweetly.
“How many kilometers?” I ask, trying to be clearer. Sweet smile.
“okay…never mind. I’ll to China Telecom across the street, they have the microsims…” I move to walk away. She nods, tilts the head respectfully as I ride off into the sunset to the store that closed 30 minutes earlier.
I smile foolishly when I return to China Mobile when, by now, even the security guard recognizes me a pushes aside the waiting locals to reunite me with the sweet-smiling lady.
“It’s closed,” I say, handing her my passport…there is a tiny, tiny smile on her lips that say “I know.” The rest of the transaction is completed mostly in silence after which I receive a 10 page contract written entirely in Mandarin.
“Print name here…” she tells me, pointing to an empty slot on the form. I realize she doesn’t know how to write my name. I comply then sign the document, hoping it’s not some confession for subversive activities. She gives the sim, accepts my 150¥ and gives me a nod of the head. I thank her in Chinese and head off to hail a cab.
The cab crosses 4 lanes of traffic when I raise my arm to hail him. Horns honk all around and none of the police officers even glance at the street. There is a passenger in the front seat …she waves me in. She’s eating her dinner and obviously the girlfriend or sister of the driver. I show him where I want to go. Like the other, he gesticulates and talks rapidly in protest of my inability to tell him my destination but he gets over it. I recognize the route by now but i’ve learned there is no point in giving driving suggestions to the cabbie. So I bite my tongue when the car turns left where it should have turned right. Surely, I think, the other drivers will alert him that he is going the wrong way up a one way street. I put my seatbelt on. Apparently, going the wrong way in traffic does not warrant using horn. Oncoming drivers switch lanes as we approach, like a courtesy to someone who is using a well-known secret shortcut. Out of respect, I give the driver a 50% tip.