What do you think when you hear the word ‘hot springs?’ An idyllic mountain-side setting with natural hot springs heated by subterranean volcanic activity? Me too. But, here in Beijing, there are only hot springs with Chinese characteristics.

We arrived at a building big enough to house the entire Boeing 747 plant. It seemed that it was commonplace to the Chinese visitors of this ‘hot spring,’ but I stood there, jaw agape, wondering which overblown casino in Las Vegas the architect was trying to outdo. This was Xanadu, Atlantis, The Great Hall of The People, and The Forbidden City all wrapped in one enormous tribute to the Chinese Water Gods. But somehow this escaped the Chinese patrons of Hot Spring Leisure City (温都水城).

The men strolled in with their uber-tight, boxer brief swimwear ready to be treated like the emperor himself. The women, mostly in unsightly one piece swimsuits lingered in the steaming hot pools filled with various Chinese medicinal herbs. But there was something for everyone at Leisure City.

A gargantuan wave pool was filled with swimcapped youth that flailed about as the miniature waves crashed into them. When they turned off the wave-making machine there was lap swimming for the few patrons that learned how to do a little more than doggy paddle. Towering above the massive wave pool was an impressive, yet dangerous looking jungle gym that was off limits that day, perhaps as a result of an gory injury the day before. On the other side of the pool were two rather impressive water slides: The Space Bowl and the Rafter’s Plunge! Neither were open for any extended amount of time, as the lifeguards seemed too lazy or too few to babysit the hordes of unacquainted water-slide goers. But these slides were definitely up to par. The Space Bowl left me with raspberries on my arms from the high speed friction, but was definitely worth it as I was shot out of tube into a bowl that had me spinning around 3 or 4 times before plunging into the pool below.

To get to the ‘hot springs’ one had to pass through a corridor lined with subpar Chinese fare. And upon entering the hot spring zone, a hard-to-place scent of cigarettes smoke, Chinese herbs and vinegar penetrated my nostrils. The walls were made of faux stalactites and lined with a jungle of plastic trees. In the center of the complex was the sole outdoor hot spring sheltered by a bamboo roof and surrounded by the intense humming sound of ventilation fans. The hot springs were exactly that, hot! Soaking in any one of the tubs was intense to say the least. There were dozens of chubby men with neck to toe lobster-red skin, an obvious sign they were hardcore hot tubbers.

The second floor, just above all of the hot spring action, was the place everyone went to escape the heat and be pampered. There were massive massage lounges, TCM therapy rooms, happy ending parlors, and ‘quiet rooms’ with personal TVs and soft, white electronically reclining lazyboys. There was nothing this place didn’t have. There were even discount cards worth up to 100,000 RMB for the hot spring fanatic.

All in all, Hot Spring Leisure City is the place to be if you have a bit of money to spend and want to soak the day away. And leave the LSD at home because you can get a Hunter S. Thomson-like experience here without the use of mind altering drugs.

Location: Traffic Police Department, Liang Xiang County, Fang Shan District.
Combined bank account balance: 0 (last 800 went to pay part of the hospital deposit).
Money in pockets: miscellaneous change.
Time: approximately 15:30-16:00.

As a totality, the police officers were extremely nice. They were talking to us matter-of-factly, asked us how much we paid for the vehicle, asked us how we liked China, but as to inquiries regarding the accident - not too many of those were made.

List of protocol procedures we underwent:
Police photographing the car
Police taking away the keys and impounding the car as “evidence”
Police taking us to the next-door hospital for my husband’s blood test just in case he was DUI
Police copying the passport information and taking away the car registration and driver’s licence

At the end - when my husband signed the required papers, and sealed them with his fingerprint (also procedure, apparently), we were told the following in the following order:
1) Since we moved the bike off the road and drove off from the crime scene - whatever the intentions - we were 100% liable for the accident and it does not matter who or what caused it;
2) Because we were foreigners, we were to be dealt with by the Foreign Affairs department of the Beijing Traffic Police, so all we could do at this point was to go home and wait for their call in the next couple of days.

When I inquired about going back to the crime scene, they reminded me (in the most friendly manner) that since we drove off and moved the bike, we are already fully liable and going to the crime scene would not change anything.

Time: around 6 pm.
Distance from home: about a 2 hour drive.
Remaining means of getting home: none.
Mood: stunned and disoriented.

At this point we were broke and car-less. We brought it up hoping to negotiate our damaged ride out of the impound lot. The attempt failed, but one of the officers loaned us 300 yuan to make sure we could pay for a taxi ride home.

We got home and - after ordering pizza with the remaining taxi money (as an emotional damage control measure) and a long and freaked-out conversation reliving the day, drifted into uneasy sleep.

Day 2, June 30th, Monday.
Mood: still stunned.
Most feared object: a ringing phone.

The next day was uneventful until lunch time, when the “daughter” of the man we hit called and told me to come pay the remaining 9200 of the hospital deposit, or the hospital will refuse her “father” medical treatment (by law, the medical institutions are not supposed to do that, but it can and does happen). Travelling back to the hospital for 2 hours was out of the question, so a bank transfer was the only option at that point. I left work early and went to the bank to conduct the transfer.

On the way to the bank, the Foreign Affairs Traffic Police Department called. A friendly male voice inquired about my husband, then told me that the next day we were expected at the Police Department Headquarters in BeiYuan for the deposition.

End of Day 2.

To be continued…

We didn’t have any idea where the hospital was, and the ambulance we were supposed to be following was long gone. The man in the back of our Jeep was not giving any directions unless I turned to him to ask. He refused to answer how he is related to the injured man. He kept calling people telling them about the accident, saying that old Li was hit by a car, but nobody in his house is picking up the phone.

I was in the front passenger seat, amongst glass shards from the smashed windshield, fingers bleeding from the ones I didn’t notice when getting back into the car. The stranger in the car was irritatingly gruff, mostly non-responsive. After 30 minutes we got lost and waited at an intersection for 10 minutes while the stranger called the woman that was with him at the clinic. Finally, after about 50 minutes, we made it.

We arrived at the orthopedics hospital, parked, and rushed in. We were received by Doctor X, head of emergency care unit, after we paid 260 yuan for the ambulance. He told us not to worry, that it’s not very serious, that all we have to do now is PAY, and everything’s going to be fine. Here’s what we found out after the MRI, CAT scan and X-ray results were brought in. The injured man had 1 rib broken, and there was liquid accumulating under it. His leg was fine, the gash was already operated on, and turned out to be the least of our worries. He also had a broken collar bone that would need to be operated on in a few days when his condition stabilized. He’d need to stay in the hospital to recover. The emergency treatment came to about 2800 yuan, and that we had with us. But the hospital stay deposit was 10000 yuan, and that we didn’t have.

Injured man’s condition: Stable.
People present in the doctor’s office: Doctor, us, the woman from the clinic, who is now claiming to be his grieving daughter.
Suspicion levels: Medium.
Expenses to this point: Appr. 3000 yuan.
Combined remaining bank account balance: 800 yuan.
Mood: Angry and confused.

Now, here’s a tiny little piece of info regarding our ‘new’ vehicle. We bought it 4 days before the accident. With expired insurance we were careless enough (some would say stupid – and I’d be one of them) not to renew. Funny thing – we talked about it the morning before the trip and decided to do it ‘tomorrow’. Wrong, wrong, wrong! Turned out that within the minimum mandatory insurance package, regardless of blame in the accident (us – 0, man – totally his fault), the driver/car owner is liable 100%. So whether we had 10000 yuan or not did not matter, because we had to pay it just the same. Which we did the next day.

In the meantime, Doctor X tells us and the ‘daughter’ that it’s best to still inform the police. She calls the police department. The police – located about 5 minutes away, arrive in about a half an hour. They briefly interrogate us – literally in just a few words, then head into the room where the injured man has been moved to. After they come back, they tell us to get in the car and drive behind them to the police department. And we drove.

To be continued…

Date: June 29th, 2008.
Destination: Shi Du rapids, Fangshan District, Beijing.
Means of transportation: Our newly purchased 1995 Jeep Cherokee.
Traveling accessories: map, directions printed off Baidu and a huge bag of snacks.
Weather: A slight drizzle.
Mood: Upbeat.

After an hour and a half of driving, we almost reached our destination. Another 20 kilometers, and we’d be there. Anticipation, excitement, you name it. And then, less than 10 meters ahead of us, from between the bushes on the right side of the road, came a man on the bike. He paused on the side of the road, and kept going. It was momentarily clear what was going to happen next. To tell the truth, I blanked out for a second. Screeching tires, sound of a body hitting the windshield. Silence… I opened my eyes (I wasn’t the one driving). The corner of the windshield was smashed in on my side. I opened the door and jumped out. The bike, twisted, lay on the side. Then came the straw hat. Then the man. He lay on the wet ground, moaning. From the gash on the inside of this right ankle black blood was coming out, in unison with his heartbeat.

Time: appr. 12:10.
Surroundings: fields as far as you can see, tall bushes on the side of the road.
People around: 0 (hence no gawking crowd).
Road setup: 2-lane freeway, cars whizzing by, nobody stopping to my frantic waving.
Weather: drizzle.
Mood: freaked out.

We didn’t know what to do. We didn’t know where exactly we were. No pedestrian traffic in that part of the universe. Somebody slowed down and told us: call the traffic police, 122. I called. They picked up. I said, in Chinese: “Please help me, we hit a man on a bike, what do we do now?” Reply: “Do you need an ambulance?” Me: “Could you please tell us what we are required to do by law, please!” Answer: “Do you need an ambulance?” Me: “Urgh!” I hung up. Somebody else slowed down (mind you, nobody would pull over), saying: call the ambulance, 120. I did. Me: “There’s been an accident, we need an ambulance!” They: “Where are you?” Me: “Oops, I have no idea”. They: “So do you need an ambulance?” Me: “Urgh!” I hung up.

We tied a sweater above the bleeding gash in the man’s leg to stop the bleeding. Nobody in the passing cars knew either where we were (all tourists like us), or where was the closest hospital. Nobody pulled over to help out. There were some concrete buildings about 300 meters away, so we lifted the man into the back of the Jeep, and headed in that direction, hoping to find help. I sat next to the man, applying additional pressure above the bleeding gash on his leg. Before we left, we moved the bike off the road to the side (rain, overgrown bushes, limited visibility, there could easily be a second accident if we didn’t).

We reached the concrete buildings, there was a little shop there, and the shop owner’s daughter agreed to come with us and show us to the nearest hospital. For the first time, the man spoke to the people around him. I didn’t hear what he said, but they responded, “You can’t fully blame them, you know”.

We drove to the hospital (clinic), me still in the back of the car, clutching his leg. We drove into the front yard, the only people there being a woman and a man.

Time: 15 minutes after the accident (seemed like hours, though).
Medical staff rushing out to us: 0.
Weather: slight drizzle.
Mood: still freaked out.

Me and the shopkeeper’s daughter rushed into the clinic yelling “Doctor! Doctor!” In a minute or so, a man dressed like a doctor came out. Turned out that the clinic did not have an emergency care unit, but could send an ambulance to the nearest hospital (40 minute drive away)! The doctor was in no rush to look at the bleeding man. We waited for over 10 minutes in the front yard till the ambulance driver was located. Finally, the bleeding man was put on a stretcher and lifted into the back of the ambulance. All this time I was sitting in the back of the Jeep, holding the man’s hand, telling him everything was going to be all right. The man and woman in front of the hospital were standing idly by, no participation whatsoever. Assumption at the moment: idle bystanders.

To be continued…