Street People

I was tempted to call this something like "Faces of Kunming" or "Personalities of Southern Yunnan" but not only would this have disappointed everyone, it would also have sounded terribly stodgy and academic--something which I already get my fill of everyday. However, the point was not to talk about the naming process, but about what I'm seeing here.
I'm sure there are as many colorful figures back home in the places I walk by everyday, only it seems that I notice them more here. It might also be that interesting characters actually are more plentiful in China--everything else is. Even in the small area which can with a little license be called my stomping grounds there are more people who deserve paragraphs than I can count. Here are a few of the people who've stuck in my mind. In lieu of pictures (I still haven't a camera) I'll have to tell you the best I can. Besides it seems like it would be rude to take a picture of these people outright, but to record my impressions of them here seems less rude for some reason.

Honey Guy. In this alley which I often frequent, there is a very nice old man who sells honey. He might be considered an anomaly in the fact that he still possesses teeth at his age, or in the fact that he still sells honey, but neither of these are the particular reasons for my including him here. What is really special about the Honey Guy, what really knocks you over and tells you "Here is a guy worth noticing" is his English. He is a genuine Kunming-er never fear, but he does have the most interesting approach to English I have yet encountered. His English consists of one word, not-surprisingly: honey, which he pronounces through an ever-present grin. His grin is also of some special note as it is one of those grandaddies of grins which consumes the man's entire face. As you walk along the street, you may be accosted by the Honey Man who will grin as if he has never been happier to see anybody on earth and say to you "Honeeeeeey" (he draws out the last syllable for about five times the length of the word). The more intelligent people understand this to be at once a greeting, an offer, a sale's pitch, and a compliment. I've never seen the Honey Guy wear anything but blue Mao-era slacks and shirt with a Irish-type hat. He always has a large basket strapped to his back with his jars of honey. The honey itself looks delicious, only he sells it by the quart so I have not yet had reason to purchase a quart of honey. Bread here is already sweet enough, as am I.

Stereotypical Old Chinese Man: I often see this fellow sitting on the sidewalk with his erhu. He is a master of the instrument. And on top of this he fits, almost to a tee, the stereotypical image of the Chinese-old-man-who-plays-an-instrument-on-top-of-a-mountain. He's got the long gray hair, the long fumanchu, the peaceful demeanor, and he even sits cross-legged. I'll often walk by and hear his music filling the alley. He is someone who the street musicians in America could learn a little from. He does not appear to be needy at all, and I have my private suspicions that he simply plays music on the street because he enjoys it, although because he is so good, his money bowl is never empty. The erhu music is incredibly smooth and liquid--I wish I could do it justice here, but I'm no musician and not much better at explaining music. If you nod your head at him, he bows back deeply, all-the-while sitting cross-legged and not missing a chord on his instrument. He always has a smile for those who pass, a man who could not epitomize more the word "content." It is surprising to me that he chooses such a crowded alley to play in, especially since with all the traffic it is often impossible to hear his music but faintly. However, it almost seems like a metaphor for the traditions of the old world fighting back against the new craze of modernization. And for those of you who will recognize it, here's a little quote: "His were the old ways." I can say nothing more to render this old gentleman for you.

Blind Singing Lady. I guess I'll keep the theme of musicians for a bit, although we are now traveling to the opposite end of the spectrum. Where the erhu musician embodied everything I've ever imagined a great musician to be, the Blind Singing Lady is what you would imagine the forever aspiring musician to be. I think she is blind, though I am not entirely sure. She sings like a man who has never been fond of singing, but does it out of necessity--she reminds me of some of the more elderly church-goers who sing because they must not because they wish to. I've still not been able to figure out which language she uses as her musical one, but I've been assuming Chinese since we are still in that locale. There is an overpass near the school I'm attending and she can be seen in the evenings, firmly planted on this overpass, bellowing out here tune. She has an expression of almost painful concentration on her face and sings like she had been told it was her official work in this world. I have a feeling she sings the same song forever, but it does not seem to have an end or a beginning. I wouldn't quite call it hollering nor quite bellowing, but somewhere in between. I admire her though, for of all the things which she might have done to try and convince the passers-by to drop a few coins in her pot, singing was the one which I would never have guessed. I'm never moved to pity her, she has far more courage than I, but I think her methods do work--she never has more nor less than a few coins in her pot. She is still savvy enough to remove the bulk of the money that is given her so people will think her more pitiable still. Wisdom and courage combined tend towards prosperity, I think.

There are many more people who I could ramble on about for quite some time, but this is enough for now. Hopefully this wasn't too boring for those of you who are more interested in action, adventure and humor--I'll be working on generating some of those stories in the near future.
Phil.