I Wish You Could Hear Him

This is certainly a more interesting way to regularly go north and south in China.  Visually, the change of the countryside is an astounding show.  This is now an iconic Chinese visual transformation that used to take a Song bureaucrat months, passing before my eyes in a matter of hours.  We’ve got the Jiangsu of white buildings with black roofs and sodden fields that race to become suburban and urban and suburban again in a flash at speeds this fast.  There will be another hour or so of day light.  After that we’ll fade to black.  There are puffy clouds of pink that might have once inspired Titian up above a small field of mountains, blocked suddenly by apartment blocks that have just been put thrown up to move another village.

If you get good at this, you can probably game the trains to find the ones that have the good announcements.  This train has a pleasant woman’s voice speaking perky British English that is non-confrontational like a child’s room wallpaper.  I took a train twice last week, which leverages an absolutely horrible male voice to convey messages in English.  I wish you could hear him.  It is a terrible, mechanistic voice that invokes all the worst stereotypes of what obedient Chinese enforcers would sound like.  Every time he talks my shoulders rise.  I imagine speaking to the management of this company about the importance of representing the nation to English speaking guests graciously rather than ferociously. 

The early Eddie Palmieri album “Azucar Pa Ti” has just come on the mix.  The song: “Los Cueros Me Llaman,” is on.  Does that mean, “The Leather is My Name”?  I will investigate this in real time.  Not bad for a gringo.  Google translate suggest it’s “The Leathers Call Me,” which suggests Ishmael Quintera the lead singer is digging something interesting out there on the dance floor.  After saying what I believe is “Volcano” about fifteen times, we drive towards the ending where he screams “bangelebangele” so many times so fast he sounds like a Muppet on meth. 

I remember being obsessed with this album in my late twenties living in the Lower East Side.  I remember marveling at the blue waters of Veieques in Puerto Rico with this up in my ears around the same time.  Oddly and perfectly suited to both locations as only salsa can do, with a foot in the sun and a foot on the F train. 

I suppose it is time to breakout my train food and dive into my dinner such as it is.  They serve some boxed meals on board, but my Starbucks salad will be the better fit. 

Thursday, 8/10/17