The wind dried duck, a stable food of the Cantonese. I feel like one today, strung by the neck, dried by pollution. Today in Guangzhou, I peered hard and found some white clouds, but that might be an illusion, the sight of a mirage before death. One never sees blue sky in most cities in China. It is incredibly hot, sticky, and vomit inducing weather. So muggy you feel woozy and faint, and after a few hours, I succumbed to throwing up. The 14 hour trip yesterday that should have taken 4 didn’t help. Living on one of the most impoverished, rural farms for a few days before that was no joke either. Yes folks, if I didn’t love tea so much, no one can pay enough for me to traipse around China’s grueling environment for so many years, where the unkindness of strangers can be depended upon, the cruelty of any government official a certainty, systemic breakdowns pervasive, jostling and queue cutting a sport, and second hand smoke nearly a blindfold.
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