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Jun. 21st, 2005 05:27 pm
UFR: "The lights...where are the lights?"
Last Chinese class of the term! Next week will be dinner in Chinatown; No English rule strictly enforced!
Xiao Fei had to rush home, so it was just Mozhu and I for dinner. As is our custom, I walked her to the train and waited with her on the platform. We were standing inside the shelter, gabbing, when a very strung-out, skeevy-looking man shuffled toward us, pointed up, and started mumbling about "the lights". It took us a bit to figure out that he was talking about the heat lamps installed in the the roof of the shelter. "It's summer," I said, "they're not on." He disregarded me and pushed the "on" button anyway. Predictably, nothing happened.
But he just stood there, intermittently pointing at the fixtures and mumbling "Where are the lights?" Mostly, though, he produced a strange chittering, almost the sound of someone chewing gum with an open mouth. He had squinty, out-of-focus, junkie eyes and it was impossible to tell how much he was taking in. We tried repeatedly to explain to him about the lights, but what he did catch, he dismissed with the wave of his hand.
There was another person waiting with us, a woman in her early twenties, who looked visibly uncomfortable with him around. He obliviously tried to get close to her and I ended up trying to interpose myself. At one point, he had a glimmer of insight and said, "She gettin mad...I don't want her to get mad...I go sit down." and returned to the bench where he'd been sitting earlier. He didn't stay there long, however, and we had another round of the pointing, the mumbling--now he began telling us the train was nearing--the approaching. I tried to convince him to try turning on "the lights" at the other platform shelter, but he refused. When he put his hand on the woman's shoulder, she remained calm, but I could tell she was annoyed and I told him directly it was time to sit down again. He complied, but soon got up, walked over to a trashcan, and--after a sad number of attempts--managed to sit on it.
I can't say how long this drama went on, but it was probably fifteen minutes or more, since three northbound trains went by before the southbound finally pulled into view. The women got on, but the man turned toward me and started slapping and punching my left shoulder with his right fist--but so weakly I could hardly feel it. I stood there looking at him, thinking that at least he wouldn't get on the train now and continue bothering the others, when he turned around, shoved his hand into the nearly-closed door, forced it open, and climbed aboard a very crowded train car.
What happened next? I'll have to ask Mozhu next time we meet. A moment too late, I realise that I could easily have seized the man's shoulders and held him back from getting on the train. I had justification: He'd been battering me, after all, and the doors had already closed--forcing them open was probably illegal endangerment of the riders. But I hate to make anyone miss their train, even if they seem to have all the time in the world.
Xiao Fei had to rush home, so it was just Mozhu and I for dinner. As is our custom, I walked her to the train and waited with her on the platform. We were standing inside the shelter, gabbing, when a very strung-out, skeevy-looking man shuffled toward us, pointed up, and started mumbling about "the lights". It took us a bit to figure out that he was talking about the heat lamps installed in the the roof of the shelter. "It's summer," I said, "they're not on." He disregarded me and pushed the "on" button anyway. Predictably, nothing happened.
But he just stood there, intermittently pointing at the fixtures and mumbling "Where are the lights?" Mostly, though, he produced a strange chittering, almost the sound of someone chewing gum with an open mouth. He had squinty, out-of-focus, junkie eyes and it was impossible to tell how much he was taking in. We tried repeatedly to explain to him about the lights, but what he did catch, he dismissed with the wave of his hand.
There was another person waiting with us, a woman in her early twenties, who looked visibly uncomfortable with him around. He obliviously tried to get close to her and I ended up trying to interpose myself. At one point, he had a glimmer of insight and said, "She gettin mad...I don't want her to get mad...I go sit down." and returned to the bench where he'd been sitting earlier. He didn't stay there long, however, and we had another round of the pointing, the mumbling--now he began telling us the train was nearing--the approaching. I tried to convince him to try turning on "the lights" at the other platform shelter, but he refused. When he put his hand on the woman's shoulder, she remained calm, but I could tell she was annoyed and I told him directly it was time to sit down again. He complied, but soon got up, walked over to a trashcan, and--after a sad number of attempts--managed to sit on it.
I can't say how long this drama went on, but it was probably fifteen minutes or more, since three northbound trains went by before the southbound finally pulled into view. The women got on, but the man turned toward me and started slapping and punching my left shoulder with his right fist--but so weakly I could hardly feel it. I stood there looking at him, thinking that at least he wouldn't get on the train now and continue bothering the others, when he turned around, shoved his hand into the nearly-closed door, forced it open, and climbed aboard a very crowded train car.
What happened next? I'll have to ask Mozhu next time we meet. A moment too late, I realise that I could easily have seized the man's shoulders and held him back from getting on the train. I had justification: He'd been battering me, after all, and the doors had already closed--forcing them open was probably illegal endangerment of the riders. But I hate to make anyone miss their train, even if they seem to have all the time in the world.