The Morning Commute

7:25. The commute to school starts with me on my bike riding tearfully away from Tito, who is usually perched on the patio railing. Adios! (He understands Spanish). He gets to stay outside until 8:30 when the ayi comes, cleans up, feeds Tito, and closes windows and doors. I ride down the tree-lined street on my bike (brand- Giant, model- Ghengis Khan, features- big front basket!) towards school. At the very dangerous intersection I cross over into the bike lane next to the Chinese restaurant on the corner. Lights mean almost nothing in China. Green means go, orange means go, and so does red most of the time. There are many vehicles to beware of: buses, bikes, motorbikes, motorscooters, electric bikes, tricycle workmen's bikes, taxis, and trucks. People don't usually pull over for emergency vehicles or police cars.... Also, beware of people absentmindedly standing in the biker's lane. Also take notice of vehicles traveling in the bike lane going the opposite direction of what is designated.
There are usually people on the large sidewalk selling clothes, vegetables, crabs, fruit, and other random items. I cross over a bridge (under which flows a very skanky flow of something resembling a stream). While crossing the bridge I get the first glimpse of the school inthe distance. Notice the man in the field with the sunflowers! China surprises me with it's pockets of beauty, like random sunflowers in an otherwise littered, empty field.
The school is a bit of a behemoth in the distance. Entering SAS involves dismounting your bike and showing your ID to the guards. They salute me. I don't know why. They take their job very seriously, which is excellent, considering some North Korean refugees tried to get inside the compound to get asylum. That is a story for another post. 7:31. Ni hao! and Good morning to all the guards. Let the school day commence.