Week 3 in the danwei

Week 2 ended in rather unspectacular fashion, Friday afternoons drag as much as they do here as in any other office, particularly when I've been used to having Friday afternoons off. And even dress down Friday has been made redundant by a manage decision to allow staff to where casual clothes to work (due to the office being too cold).

On Monday I awoke to find that thing on my leg had turned into a nasty boil (the second in two months). When my boss saw, she immediately took me to Xian's premier skin hospital, despite my protestations. A kind act indeed, although the hospital merely confirmed that it is best not to get ill in China. There was literally rubbish everywhere, the smell from the toilets wafted the corridors, and the huge numbers of people, most of them the 'bu wen ming' (uncivilised) people from the countryside, made for chaos and mayhem. MRSA for all.

The doctor's office was a room with a table with more crap on it, and him sitting behind with 2 assistants, and a melee of people wafting the ticket around trying to get 'served'. Whoever shouted loudest generally got seen, although this meant that he was seeing several people at once. He took a brief look at my leg - maximum 1.6 seconds - and decided instantly what it was and what medicine I needed. When I showed him the marks on my face and the scar from the last one, he prescribed some more medicine. My attempts to find out what actually caused it came to nothing, and things like asking me questions, blood tests, and frankly general hygiene were considered unnecessary. In fact, he said showering too much (once a day) was a problem.

On visiting a Chinese hospital as an outpatient, you first have to 'gua hao', or register, where everyone pays a flat small fee. You then join the melee waiting to get seen. I suggest not going after 11am or 4pm, because once they've shut down for lunch and the end of the day, there is no way of getting seen. Ever. The doctor then prescribes the medicine, you go and get a bill for it, you take the bill to the doctor (or thrust it in his general direction is also acceptable), then go and pick up the medicine (my company picked up the tab). It's suggested that you buy the medicine outside if you can because it's more expensive than pharmacies. In fact, most adverts on local TV are for hospitals. While I appreciate the huge challenges that government faces here in providing medical services, unimaginable to those well-served and numerically small Scandanavians, the government has apparently chosen not to divert significant amounts of new found wealth into public services.

Which brings me nicely onto my next beef (being coked up on various medicines that you don't know is contained within is not good for one's mood) - the buses. Again, way too many people in this country (Greater Xian has a population twice that of New Zealand, this province has a population similar to that of Britain, and does not make it into the top 10 of China's most populous provinces). I know I bang on about population, but it's so true. Every single person in China I've met has told me there are too many people here. There's no discussion, its a fact, and I think it is. There is something very unnatural about so many people squigged into buses, high rise buildings and shopping centres.

In fact, I'll have to write a special on the buses another time. And take some pictures.

As an aside, when I was having lunch on the way back with my boss, a middle-aged woman of significant poise and demeanour despite, or perhaps because of, a short stature, happened to tell me about the Cultural Revolution. She said when her brother was at schoolin the mid 1960s, the students used to climb up onto the roof, throw off the tiles, smash a hole in the roof and throw rubble at the teachers. In between doing no study and abusing teachers and other intellectuals ('Old Stinking Ninths'), students learnt the entire collection of Mao Zedong sayings off by heart, which she can still reel off today. And her husband changed his surname to avoid being sent to the countryside for labour education. The gap between then and now is one of the most interesting aspects of modern Chinese society, which again, more will be written about at a later date.