By Linda Kennedy in Beijing
An exchange between two parasol-holding ladies, parading in different directions on a Beijing pavement:
"Yours up?"
"Up yours!"
But let’s start at the beginning.
Last year, my first Beijing summer, I watched with amusement as June arrived and women started carrying parasols. How Edwardian. Ni hao, sunscreen? Heard of it?
Two weeks into summer, and I was gripping on to a parasol for dear life. Imagine midday on planet Mercury, and you have a comparable ferocity to the rays here. Sunscreen? SPF-off, mate. It gets perspired into a personal puddle within ten al fresco paces.
So this year my parasol was whipped out just a few days ago. And in that short time, I have been the victim of parasol rage. It’s set to be a new crime in China, once the government recognises it needs to encourage descent – no, not dissent – to bring more harmony to the pavements.
So, that beginning. Again. Yesterday brought no fewer than seven spoke-offs. A spoke-off is a parasol incident – a major jostle with another woman’s pointy-bits. (And it is always women. The first man with a parasol will eventually come, given the rise of Chinese metrosexuals, but his canopy will be black and called a "man shield").
Every spoke-off was the same. I lowered my parasol and glowered. The other woman just glowered. Kowtowing? Isn’t that supposed to be a Chinese trait? Humbly drooping to show deference? Ha. Every time I had to change altitude to avoid a mid-air collision. There was not one Chinese-gripped parasol that registered descent. Are they so scared of dissent that anything sounding like it is avoided, too?
I was sarcastically muttering throughout these spoke-offs, benefiting from the language barrier, convinced most wouldn’t recognise a verbal put-down, let alone the need to enact that procedure in relation to their parasol.
On the seventh spoke-off, China’s first case of parasol rage was officially recorded – albeit here, rather than in more official documentation. "Sooo sorry, didn’t mean to get in your way," murmured quietly, turned into a rather louder "Why don’t you bloody lower yours, eh?"
You know how it goes with luck. This parasol foe understood enough English to engage in a tactical discussion – "Yours up?" – but I was not to be consoled. Which is when the "Up yours!" shout came. Lest there be confusion, I was not encouraging her parasol be elevated to permit passage of us both.
She still didn’t lower. I wanted to challenge her to a duel. Parasols at dawn? Then I thought: you wouldn’t need one at dawn.
Drunk driving only became against the law in China last month. Now that the National People’s Committee for the Function of Making Very Vital Laws (I paraphrase) realises that motion is dangerous when not in full possession of your faculties, how about extending the legislation? Drunk drivers have had too many pints, parasol rage victims have had too many pokes. The result is the same: calamity at speed.
China’s legal system is, at best, in its early stages. There is no common law, meaning the field is wide open in terms of setting precedents. Red in the face – part fury, part the effect of sun exposure during repeated parasol-lowering – I planned my moment in court. I would be a "parasol-legal", arguing on behalf of the polite parasol carrier. Parasol rage would be a new crime. Those provoking it would be "utter par’sols".
It’s the assault on my civic pride, as well as on my complexion, that stings, you see. Being from rain-soaked Glasgow, I thought there was nothing involving brolly-like implements that I couldn’t handle. Given how species evolve to cope with their environment, it’s just a matter of time before Glaswegians develop three arms so they can carry on the normal business of life and still hold an umbrella.
With this heritage, I'd assumed I’d be able to outshine anything – including the Beijing sun – when it came to deftly manoeuvering a similar sun shield. But parasols, it seems, are different. Until the parasol rage law comes in, guess I’ll just have to put up and shut up. As required.
– Read more from Linda Kennedy at Little Red Dress.
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