Exposed

This evening, while waiting for the bus from West Lake back to Xiaoshan, I watched a haggard man bathe himself in a small fountain out on the street. He seemed to have no qualms about performing such an act in public and took ample time in it. He used a long, narrow strip of worn-out material for his washcloth. It looked more like a sash or a scarf than a washcloth. Nevertheless, he took each end in either hand and swished the wet material back and forth against his shoulders and lower back. The ritual looked like a dance, a jig – like the twist. He did it for a long time and with such vigor and enthusiasm I thought for sure he’d rub the skin right off his body. From afar it looked as though his hygiene was very thorough, and it would have been, had it not been for the lack of one essential cleaning element: soap. Water can do only so much, fella.

As I boarded the bus, I wondered if maybe my standards were set just a little too high and maybe I should cut China some slack on the cleanliness front. Then, I took my seat next to a tired-looking man who proceeded to try to drown two medium-sized cockroaches with massive gobs of phlegm-filled spit. I think I’ll keep my standards as they are, thanks.