This is another one of those titles that won’t tell you what this entry is about. Quite frankly, I felt that, if I titled another entry about my shoes, you might roll your eyes and groan, and this blog is not supposed to cause that reaction. It is supposed to be enticing and provocative. But in fact, this entry is about my shoes.
I have 5 pair of black shoes and 1 pair of white shoes. I mainly wear black shoes because they go with everything. I can find them in my size – men’s sizes, of course. They are serviceable, durable, comfortable. And they show dirt like you wouldn’t believe.
The dirt is really what this entry is about, and how it affects my shoes. In this environment, the best I can hope for is to have muddy shoes or dusty shoes. I only have clean shoes once a day, when I clean them prior to putting them on. As soon as I step out the door I can count on my shoes turning into a disgrace. They lose their shine and suddenly look like I’ve salvaged them from a nearby dumpster.
I truly despair over my shoes. I like to present myself well and even though my personal grooming from hair to nails is spot-on, my clothes are clean and fit well, my accessories match what I’m wearing… my shoes are a disgrace. How can this be?
I’ve taken to studying the shoes of other people around here. Some women wear really high-end shoes, Loboutin’s or clever knock-offs thereof, or they resort to sporty Converses, or anything in between. A lot of women like to wear black patent leather pumps. Their shoes always look acceptable; the way I wish my shoes would look.
What is their secret? Do they have some sort of dust repellent built into the shoes that are made in China, as opposed to American shoes (what I wear), that do not have that feature? Is it because their shoes are colorful and mine are strictly black? Are their feet smaller and daintier than mine are and thus boast less dust per square centimeter?
And what about the mud? I cannot walk anywhere near mud without my shoes getting supremely muddy. Not just on the soles of them or maybe up the sides a little. No Sir! On my shoes, the toes are caked in mud! The heels have mud halfway up to the rim! The laces even collect their little bit of mud!
Meanwhile, Chinese women can fairly dance through mud and their shoes come out virtually spotless. Is it because my greater size and weight pushes me further down into the mud, causing it to cake on higher up the shoe? Is that why the toes of my shoes are soaked in mud – because my feet really dig into those mud puddles, whereas Chinese people are lighter than I am and glide right over those oh so prevalent mud puddles?
I had been meaning to write about this long before now, but for some reason held back. Maybe it was because the idea had not yet crystallized. Besides, there’s plenty else to write about as you, Dear Reader, can attest to. Now is when I tackle the subject.
Recently Wuhan has had a string of days where mild temperatures have prevailed and no precipitation has fallen at all. I decided to take advantage of that to go walking, even being brave enough to walk down the main road where all of the construction is going on. Yes, I expected dust and I was not disappointed. My shoes showed it and it was reflected in my voice later that night – in the fact that I could not talk without squeaking.
For once not caring about my shoes I walked on. But I have to confess this entry was formulating itself in the back of my mind as I crawled over pile after pile of construction debris that blocked the sidewalk. I must have walked 10 km that day; it just felt so good to have the sun at my back and the dust at my feet! I figured that, by the time I got home, I would have this entry ready to set to type.
I have to admit though: I am not in as good shape as I wish I were in. I don’t do half bad, all things considered: I can still walk great distances, I can still climb over rubble, I am still somewhat nimble when it comes to dodging cars. All of which were a part of my stroll that day.
My legs were tired. They were feeling the glow of use after not having been used in so long. That is the only explanation I can give for what happened next.
I was climbing over a significant pile of dirt and bricks, looking down at my dusty shoes and finally having the tone set for this entry I had been thinking of writing for so long. To my left, where a building used to stand was a water truck disgorging dirty water into the street; it was the end of the day and I suppose they had to empty their tanks. It was that former building’s brick and mortar I was climbing over.
I was feeling quite satisfied with myself, doing my impersonation of a mountain goat even though the ‘mountain’ was only about 2 feet high, when my right leg cramped up and gave way. Before I knew it I plunged face first into the only mud puddle the City of Wuhan had seen in a week. Mind you this was not a mild little half-inch puddle; remember I said that a construction truck was disgorging its tanks. Of filthy water. At the end of the day.
That meant enough water to soak me to the elbows (I did manage to catch myself before actually landing face-first into the puddle), in front of a crowd of people waiting for a bus. To say nothing of the construction crew and children walking home from school. My entire outfit was now covered with mud as I was on all 4’s trying to recover. The cramp intensified, causing me to roll over onto my left side in order to nurse it the cramp. Now my entire left side, from haunch to heel, is soaked. And I landed on discarded bricks and mortar, so I had scrapes everywhere that were starting to sting.
If I thought I was being stared at before, just walking down the street, imagine how this felt! What could I do but laugh? And still the stares: I guess that good, decent Chinese citizens who wouldn’t dream of bathing in mud puddles just don’t know how to handle a foreigner sitting in a mud puddle, laughing her fool head off.
I finally made it back onto my pins and started walking again. A more charitable little girl offered me a few tissues to clean the worst of the mud off my face and glasses where it had splashed up. What a sweetheart she was. I looked down at my shoes and… you guessed it: muddy. So I guess I CAN have my shoes both ways: muddy and dusty!
Now I know why this entry has been on my mind for a while now but somehow I held back on writing it.
No comments:
Post a Comment