Lights Out

Last night I was walking up the mountain after dinner with some other foreign teachers in Luzhou. Normally, I'd go another two stops on the bus and get off at the main gate of the college, already high up the mountain. But the heat of the city bus was oppressive and I thought I'd rather sweat while walking up than sit any longer in the still, sweltering interior of the bus.

It took me about ten feet to realize that something was strange--all the lights were out along the main drive. The lower gate is the hospital gate, which gives access to the affiliated hospital and continues on up to the campus of the school. I live near the top of the small mountain, called Zhong Mountain. With all the lights out--steet lamps and building lights--everything was in shadows and it seemed to me that people were talking louder to make up for the absence.

Parked about halfway up was a small truck with yellow flashing lights--the electricity guys, come to solve the problem. Massed around them was a crowd of onlookers and advice-givers, typical of most situations in China, where for every participant in the scene, there are at least two very active observers. At first, I didn't pause. But I thought better of it, and backtracked a few steps to join the onlookers. A couple of guys with hardhats were lifting a wrench on a pole up to some power node. They tried a couple of machinations with the wrench, but to no avail. After each effort, the crowd would chorus, mei you, mei you (we don't have it/electricity). It all made me chuckle, and I kept on trudging up the hill.

Further up are a line of shops, which sell various things that a hospital-going family would need--flower arrangements, fruit, pajamas, slippers, snacks--at a premium price. They had all lit candles in their shops, casting them in a warm and friendly glow. The shopkeepers were arranged outside on the sidewalk, spilling out into the street, on plastic chairs pointed down the mountain, also observing the electricity workers on the job. Children were running through the dark, shrieking and playing. Some jauntily waved flashlights. There was a thrill of expectancy in the air. It reminded me of the Fourth of July, where people waited for that electric moment when the sky is splashed with fireworks.

Just as I was passing the shops and shopkeepers, the lights began to flicker on, garnering a new chorus of lai le! lai le! (it's come!) to ring out along the street. I smiled and kept walking, glad that on this night, I'd opted to get off the bus and trek up the hill.