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| Theft makes Jingmei mad |  
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| Swiping the neighborhood! |           | Two days ago, Jingmei, and I went to the post office to mail a packageto my friend in Shanghai. As we dealt with the usual bureaucratic bullshit
 of using the China-approved box, label, and mailing form (just like
 in Russia) Jingmei set down our bag of swim stuff and magazines. When I realized it was no longer with
 us, someone had already swiped it. I looked all over the post office
 several times; even barging through the line to see if we’d left it at the
 counter. No luck.
 I was in shock! For the first time in a year of traveling and threeyears of living in wacked countries, someone swiped my stuff! I was so
 shocked; I couldn’t believe it at first. Why would one of the uneducated
 peasants standing around the post office want swim goggles, a towel, and The
 Economist magazine? None of them could swim, that’s for sure, and by
 the looks of ’em, they didn’t bathe too often, so a towel was not a high
 priority. Finally, of all magazines for definitely English, and possibly
 Chinese illiterate person to steal, The
 Economist?! There aren’t even a dozen photos in the whole damn
 magazine!
 I could only come to one conclusion: they stole the plastic bag of mystuff precisely because it was mine. Laowai (foreigner) stuff. The
 curiosity of what I would carry with me, or the greed that it might have
 some value, overwhelmed them. They’re gonna be very disappointed with my
 old and very scratched goggles, thin towel I bought at a street stall in
 Beijing, and a three month old magazine. Serves ’em right, I guess.
 Now, I was willing to write that off as a random occurrence. A specialcase since the peasants in that particular post office were dirt poor, and
 anything semi-Western, even my crap, was worth the good beating I, then
 the police, would have given them. That was till I finally went to the
 pool I was headed to that day.
 This time, Jingmei, and I skipped the post office and went directly toa pool and sauna in the bottom of a posh apartment building. The pool
 wasn’t all that amazing, but the 20 quai door charge (around $2.50 USD) is
 enough to keep out the peasants and would lead me to believe that the
 occupants would be of a decent social caliber.
 We swam, with me buying special ‘laowai’ goggles that had anadjustable nose strap, since the ‘normal’ goggles were not
 designed with a Western nose in mind, and afterwards hit the saunas. I was
 in the guy’s sauna, reading a new Newsweek my mom just sent me that day.
 After I was thoroughly worked with a few hot sauna/cold shower/hot sauna
 sessions over an hour’s time, I’d finished the Newsweek, and went to see
 if Jingmei was done. I wasn’t the only one in the sauna, and they’d all
 seen me come and go a few times.
 I talked with Jingmei a few minutes, but by the time I returned, themagazine and all the guys who’d been in the sauna were gone. My towel was
 still there this time, thankfully, though not concealing my magazine. The
 Newsweek was swiped, my second English news loss in a week! Now, maybe one
 of the guys the sauna could read English, and wanted to practice, but to
 take my mag? That’s just too much! I would’ve given it away, since I’d
 read it from cover to cover, though I was hoping to have a bit of control
 over who got it next.
 Interestingly enough, looking in the Friendship store yesterday, therewas the same issue staring out from the magazine rack. If the guy wanted
 one so bad, he could’ve bought one his own damn self. Now I know. Never
 leave anything Western alone in China.
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