The China Journal - Day 15

I turn up the volume on my iPod in a desperate attempt to drown out the dreadful Chinese pop blasting through the speakers on our bus. Apparently, this is for our entertainment.

I look around me for some sign that I'm not the only one suffering from extreme anxiety as a result of my inability to escape this horrendous offense to my senses as the grating vocal stylings and synthesizer beats from an indeterminate number of Chinese pop singers eventually all mold into one, creating an endless loop of nauseating, suicide-inducing, gag-me-till-I-puke songs about being all in love and depressed and shit. Even worse are the videos shown on the television screen at the front of the bus, which always feature the singer in the role of a forlorn soul whose love for another has been unrequited. Lost in their melancholy and bleak vision of the future, they wander through parks or gardens or by the seaside bleeding their sappy hearts all over the screen. What's even harder to digest is the fact that there is a striking absence of other people and the protagonist's seeming desire to be alone in nature; two things that would never occur in China.

I shouldn't be surprised by the fact that no one appears to give the music any notice. I'm amazed and envious that half the bus appears to be asleep.

I once again turn to my iPod for an escape. I anticipate Glen Frey's vocals after the opening bars of "Already Gone" when I hear nothing but the backing track. I shake the iPod and the drums kick in, but I lose the guitar. I give up as this seems to occur with each subsequent song, so I decide to chalk it up to iPod altitude sickness as we make our ascent into the mountain ranges of Western Sichuan...