It was Friday night and I was standing in line. No, not at the hottest night club in Shanghai - I was waiting behind ~200 people for a taxi in the Suzhou train terminal.

It's strange what kind of people you see waiting in queue at midnight: three person families from the countryside carrying large produce bags with all their belongings inside, trendy guys with dyed longish hair, skinny jeans and sleek luggage, middle aged men in a flock all dressed in drab gray and black. There was a little girl, too. She was by herself. She wore a pink jacket and a cheap pink plastic headband to match. She carried a plastic cup from KFC and asked, no, charmed money out of the people waiting in line. She worked the crowd like a young Richard Dawson from the old Family Feud. To all the girls, she called them "美女," which translates roughly to something like "beautiful woman" or "sexy lady." She told all the men how handsome they are. Sometimes she sang a song. Someone slipped her a 10 dollar bill. She was very successful. She also looked no more than 6 years old.

I couldn't help but wonder what this little girl was doing. Obviously, she was making money. But she couldn't have been making money by herself - who was she working for? Was it her parents? What kind of parents would make their toddler work at this hour of the night? It was midnight, any 6-year-old should have been in bed for hours by now.

So when she came around to my side of the line and asked for money, I asked her what she needed money for. She seemed to have an answer prepared already as she pulled out some beef jerky from her front pocket and loudly exclaimed: "For snacks of course!" She was so adorable that everyone chuckled and gave her money. I did, too.

If I was a good investigative journalist I would have tracked down the people she was working for, uncovered a large-scale kidnapping ring who turn kids into street beggars, defeated this underground mafia, alerted the police, and saved the lives of countless children. But I didn't, I got in a taxi and was on my way to grandma's house. Only later, did I find out that the right(?) thing to do is to not give them any money in order to discourage adults from using children as tools to make money. The same situation occurs in many parts of China, India, and I'm sure it occurs in many developing countries as well.

So there really isn't an ending to my story. I wasn't the hero and I did not save the day. But I will leave you with a little lesson I learned traveling through China alone at night. When I got off the train in the middle of the night, I knew that all public transportation would have been shut off, so the only option in mind was to take a taxi. As soon as I stepped off the platform, a middle aged woman stopped me asking if I needed a taxi. I was just about to say yes when my gut instinct told me to walk away. Another man stopped me to offer me a taxi, then a third. These people are very aggressive! So I put on my New York face and speed walked away. Later, on the line for taxis, I asked the guy in front of me why he would rather wait for 30 minutes on this line than take those "taxi pimps" up on their offer. He said that those cars are "黑车," unlicensed and unregulated in any way. They will take you on the highway, loop for hours and overcharge you, some instances of kidnapping have even happened with these "black taxis."

So, when you've arrived somewhere in the middle of the night. Resist the convenience of "黑车," and wait for a regular taxi. Next up, some posts about survival Chinese in Shanghai!

So I haven't posted for a while, for a combination of reasons I guess. The events that have been happening in my life are perfectly perched on the line between eventful and unnoteworthy that I debate over whether or not to cover them quickly in this blog. Usually, my lazy side wins. But today, I had a moment in the subway that inspired me to write, as cliché as it may sound. But first, a quick run through of the past few days.

Calvin Harris concert: pretty crazy, but not as crazy as it could have been. I'm pretty sure I saw some people in the crowd who could not have been over 12 years old. Calvin came on around midnight and the music was good until 2am-ish.

Motorcycle Taxi: Friggin' awesome! You are really risking your life when you go on one of these. Seriously. These "taxis' are not regulated, at all. Usually you find flocks of guys on motorcycles hanging out near a shopping center or a crowded area, and you just approach them with your intended destination.You really have to haggle with them since people have been charged anywhere between 10 RMB to 50 RMB. I must say that sitting on the back of a hog while watching the driver weave through traffic and blow past every single red light was an experience I'll never forget.

So back to the subway story. I had an easy day today so I set out on exploring a bit after an interview in the morning. Being in the subway station, I thought I had gotten use to seeing homeless people in New York, but apparently that was a lie. There was an old lady, who looks about 60/70ish, snow-white hair and a bit over weight, kneeling in full kow-tow position on the ground with a piece of cardboard next to her describing her story. If the story is true, she is very sick, very very sick and unable to work and her children have abandoned her and now she has nothing, really. Can you imagine being so old, so lonely and so completely vulnerable? I couldn't possibly. It was a gray day outside and I don't know why but this moment just struck me very hard. I gave her some change but really I was feeling helpless as well. There must be thousands more like her in Shanghai alone, nevermind the nation.

I remember that in my NYU application short answers, I wrote about a vision I had. And I had almost forgotten it until today. I dreamed of opening an orphanage of sorts, but for old people - the ones abandoned by their children in China. The Chinese are used to filial piety. They often save their earnings for years in order for their children to afford a house, perhaps in a major city. Few have retirement accounts or medical insurance. They really don't have much besides the trust that their children will take care of them in their old age. When their money is gone, some are thrown out of the new house by their sons or daughters. It's hard for me to imagine anyone being in their position, but still, they exist.

I'm unsure of how I can make this vision come true, and I'm also unsure where this post is going. Sorry if this bit of thought has proved to be a bit too depressing, but it was just one of those days.

I'm back!!! After a long hiatus away in internet-free land at my grandparents, I have rejoined civilization on Facebook, Twitter, and now Blogspot. Huzzah!

Over the last 10 or so days, I've gotten over most of the culture shock- drivers who won't yield for pedestrians, people talking inside with their outdoor voices, toddlers peeing in the street, the crazy amount of people on the subway, the bus, etc...but one thing that still confounds me is the Chinese people's obsession with height- or, more specifically, tallness.

Back in the U.S., height has it's benefits- maybe it could help you get into a trendy club, or maybe it gave you an extra boost in basketball- gratifying, but inconsequential. But in China, height could determine whether or not you land a job, or even whom you settle down with for the rest of your life.

To be an airline stewardess for Air China, women have to be above 160 centimeters. Waitress at a high class restaurant? About the same. Even to get a job as a waitress at this bakery I passed by, women had to be above 155 cm, and men above 160cm. Many jobs hire taller people for appearance's sake, since height almost directly translates to attractiveness. Or, some hypothesize that the height restriction is a way to limit the number of applicants, in the world's largest country by population. But one thing is for certain, it's good to be tall in China.

If you want to see if you made the mark, here is an approximate conversion: 155 cm≈5'1", and 160 cm ≈ 5'3". In China, where the average height for women is 158.6 cm, over half of the people are disqualified before even being judged on their other attributes.

In America, a typical dating site profile might read something like this: "So I’m not the Internet-dater type. But I'm sick of the bar scene, so I thought I'd try this out. I like Italian food, Labradoodles, and long walks on the beach. I'm looking for a man who'll make me laugh; who won't mind taking spontaneous excursions to warm weather. So if you think we might just click and you are up for dinner at any of Mario Batali's restaurants, let's get in touch!" The ad is cute, fun, and attracts potential dates based on personality and common interests. Where as in China, a typical dating ad might look a little something like this: " Female, 27 years old, 165 cm, college educated, pale-skinned and attractive. Looking for a male above 175 cm, Master's Degree or above." I can begin to understand how girls might be looking for a taller guy, but even males, are looking for taller wives, perhaps in the hopes of having tall children. The Chinese hope that when the child grows up and recruits for a job, an extra centimeter or two will be an added advantage.

So height translates to attractiveness, but does height translate to $$$? Chinese hospitals offer limb-extension surgery for anywhere from $3,000 to $12,000 that can extend your legs by up to 9-10 cm. Not only is the surgery extremely painful and intrusive (it works by breaking the leg bones over and over again), but as with any other good, what you pay is what you get, since the market is largely unregulated, botched operations are commonplace. Patients can end up with damaged nerves, uneven growth, brittle bones, and many more negative psychological effects.The market is saturated with various medicines and remedies claiming to help one's child grow taller. Chinese parents fork over handfuls of cash for these medicines all claiming to have discovered "the secret to miracle growth."

Will heightism fade with time as China become increasingly globalized? Or is it entrenched in Chinese culture along with the preference for pale skin?