It was a homecoming of sorts. Oh no, not for me…but for all of those from Fuzhou (福州
Fúzhōu), China returning to their roots.
Erring on the obvious, aren’t we? Let’s put it another way. To the average New York City resident, the word Fuzhou means about as much as the top fifty listed signs on these buildings. Well, it’s time to spill the beans, folks: the New York City-Fuzhou market is the largest trans-Pacific market not currently served by a nonstop flight. Check out Sunset Park in Brooklyn to better understand what that means.
Although my visit to that capital of Fujian province – it’s due west of Taiwan – was brief, I have two colorful memories of the place. The first was the weird feeling that I was in a pinball machine. The sidewalks are filled with as many (electric) bikes as pedestrians, so unless you have a sense of hearing like a dog, you’re probably going to get hit at some point. Also, watch (but not watch out) for bikers wearing oven mitts.
Then, we have the not-quite airbnb I used. For starters, I think the previous tenants of the apartment I stayed in decided to pay my door (thus, my ear canals) a visit for fifteen minutes at 3am. But that wasn’t was the most amusing bit…
So many options! All we need for the anxious elevator passengers is a cigarette-dispensing arcade game, and then the ride will be an exemplary introduction to living in China.