Even though every developing country claims its drivers are the most deranged, I think the trophy must really go to the Chinese. Never in my life have I seen one city bus cut off another with such hateful vigor. Or been in a bus that did a complete U-turn on a four-lane highway. The bike lane isn’t much better, motorcycles are much harder to spot until they zoom up behind you and nearly knock you down in your path. I would love to bike here more often, if only I weren't completely terrified of any combination of a Chinese person and a set of wheels.

Also, taking note of the bus bombings this summer in Kunming, it suddenly unclear which is more dangerous, being in the bus’ path, or actually onboard. Kunming buses do, however, play soothing videos of grasshoppers frolicking on dewy, green leaves.

It’s funny how fast it took everyone to know what there is to know about me. People here have already picked up on my quirks, the ones that I'm only even aware of from other people’s observations. How I swear really loudly from my desk when I’m frustrated and think about foods I hate just to gross myself out. I’m known as the girl who likes Indian food, puppies, war movies, and the “Latin America” section of msnbc.com. I guess no matter where I go, I can’t escape my compulsions. I just like things how I like them.

It’s discouraging how mediocre I am at Chinese. Granted, I’m a white girl, but all this effort seems like it needs to start showing. I left Spanish when I was really good at it, to slave away at an elusive language unwilling to be tamed, for mediocrity in the tongue of a country I don’t even plan on spending time in after I’m done with the Tufts language requirements. The only times I am actually good at Chinese are when I’m supposed to be responding in a different language. A few nights ago Sam asked me a question in Spanish, and the only words that popped into my head were Chinese proverbs.

At least I know how to scold parents for spoiling their children. And discuss horticulture.

Today Tal and Aly didn't come to class so I was all alone with Zhang Laoshi. She made me act out a skit with her in which I was a taxi driver and she was a passenger who had lost a cell phone, for which she offered me a 1000 RMB reward. My goal was to use our vocabulary to politely say I didn't want the money but "begrudingly accept" after an annoyingly long period of beating around the bush. It reminded me of the Iranian taarof custom. Why do other cultures bother so much with politeness when it comes to things like cups of tea and lost cell phones, but have absolutely no respect for anyone who wishes to walk in your general vicinity?

I’ve been making mad trips to the fruit vendor to stock up on vitamin C for combating my cold, buying about a pound every evening right outside my door. My favorites are the little tangerines the size of ping pong balls, and enormous tangelos that take about an hour to peel. Fruit stands were such a good idea. Whose idea were they? There's nothing like a Chinese tangerine, they're small and firm and just sour enough and start to spray juice as soon as you crack open the peel.

We had a lecture from an guy from an environmental NGO the other day. He said that ecotourism in China is actually more detrimental than tourism in general because Chinese people’s idea of ecotourism is driving a Volkswagen into the deep forest to take a million pictures of themselves on a horse. And then they get off the horse. And shout a lot, as it turns out. Noise pollution, as well as pollution of the air, water, and general dignity of the earth.

The bottled water stand around the corner from me has a little boy who always plays on the dirty cement expanse of the sidewalk. All his toys are lined up neatly next to the ice cream freezer, which sells slightly icier versions of Magnum and Good Humor. Walking past tonight, I saw the cot behind the counter of the little stand. The man was tucking his worried-looking wife into bed beneath the worn plaid blanket. The boy was still playing on the sidewalk.

Chinese is so dumb. Even if you recognize the character, and know the pinyin, and know the tone, and know the meaning of that individual word, you may still have no idea what anything says. For instance, who knew that “car water horse dragon” means “heavy traffic”?

It does feel good when you get it right, though.