China has an amazing knack for moving itself. In a city of 15 million people or so, I am shocked at how infrequent traffic jams are. Even more shocking is the fact that almost everybody works from 830 to 530. That means the roads are clogged from 730 to 9 and 530 to 7 every day. And the "dining hour" remains fixed from 630 to 730. During these times one can just expect to have difficulty in moving about from one place to the other in Guangzhou. But I've found that during these times, people lose their inhibitions and really become fish more than humans. This is exemplified when one rides the subway across town at 6 p.m. on a weekday. One must stand in line to put their ticket in the machine to enter, stand in line to enter the escalator, stand in line on the escalator and then stand in line to enter the subway while waiting on the platform. The people of Guangzhou have gotten so used to this anatomic waltz of orchestrated movement that once the train does arrive, the flop about and push one another onto the train so every last inch of space is taken up. Once on the train, its as if you become a sardine: if you are not close to a rail to hold yourself onto when the train begins to move, you simply fall back and forth against your other newly gilled nearby passengers. There isn't much spoken language going on, but when your stop comes near, it is time for you to be judged. It is at this point when all the other fishes have to squeeze and move together to let you free of the school. You must shout, and push, and shove, trample and scream to let everyone know you are coming through. And if the force you exert to let yourself through isn't enough, then you simply miss your exit and go with the pack. Minor cuts, bruises and a frown of anger? Of course, but that's all washed away with a bucket of tea once you get to the street anyhow.