Typhoon 2004!! A Report from Hangzhou’s Ground Zero

This previous Saturday morning began as calm and unassumingly as any other day this summer but Mother Nature had something in store for the humble citizens of Hangzhou (and I’m assuming other large portions of Zhejiang province but who cares about them), something wicked. The 3rd of July began quietly as the sun shed its first glowing rays onto the city, and the fair people of this town began their bustle shortly after awakening to the strained sounds of so many a tuberculosis ridden rooster attempting its now pathetic cock-a-doodle-doo (the air ain’t clean here).

The winds began a stirring around eight in the morning and their relentless gales did not cease for some 6 to 8 hours. I was literally held hostage by the storm for almost 15 minutes from the time I woke up around 2 in the afternoon. What I saw from my living room window defied human explanation. Clothes left out overnight to dry were found flung from the clothesline possibly even wetter than when they were originally hung out. Potted plants were laid to waste lying on their side having not been able to stand under their own weight of the wind’s vicious surge. Carl’s umbrella was the worst victim. Whipped inside out as if it were some cheap product manufactured in China, hardly keeping my friend protected from the sideways mist that assailed anyone with the courage to step outside. This was a meteorological surprise attack that no one expected and I went out to look for answers.

On my way to a taxi I saw the carnage that ensued on the college campus I live on first hand. Rows of bikes knocked upon their sides like a line of two-wheeled dominoes. Puddles with a surface area about that of medium-sized, artificial ponds at Home Depot were everywhere with depths measuring upwards of three quarters of an inch, and not one, but TWO poorly planted Mimosa trees were uprooted by the unrelenting ferocity of this storm. I could barely contain the vodka I had for breakfast when my eyes took in the ravaging effects of this devilish tempest. Surely the meteorologist would have answers.

I was wrong.

Upon arriving at the weather station I found Feng Shui Ren collapsed behind a copper and jade fountain ringed with frogs, one of which had a coin in its mouth. After coming to he offered his apologies for his unconsciousness and I began my questioning.

Me: How could this happen with no warning whatsoever?

Feng: Excuse me but does this look like a meteorological forecast center to you or the lobby at the Jade Palace All You Can Eat Buffet? Look at this fuckin’ “equipment” (he air quoted). I’d stab a bitch for Noah Radio. I’d suck dick for fuckin’ doppler radar. What do I got?! Those fuckin’ frogs and they’re only good at telling me about earthquakes which I know cunt about!

Me: So you’re telling me you had no way of knowing a sizable weather system…a typhoon in fact…was going to hit us?

Feng: You’ve got to be fuckin’ shitting me you white prick. You know what the powers that be expect me to do when big storms come?

Me: Uh…no.

Feng: You know what they expect me to do (me: no)? Stand outside in the thick of the shit with a satchel of ground up deer penis and a roman candle as if I do, which I don’t, it might do something. Fuck all this noise I need to get high.

Me: Excuse me?

Feng: You heard me niggah! I’s getting my motherfuckin self cronked. Find your own God damn way out cracker. Careful not to fuck up the Tandy they gave me to check the weather.

Me: Thank you for your time.

Feng: Fuck your ass honky.

When I got back on campus people were out trying to put things back together. I spoke with some to try and gauge their reaction. One individual was more than verbose.

Me: So did you see the storm?

Wang: See it? See it? I felt that shit. There I was, pissing on the side of the girls’ dormitory…as is my want…when this fuckin’ gust of wind sprayed my piss stream back all over me.

Me: So you were outside when the storm hit?

Wang: Shit piker, I was living it. I mean it was windy! Like real windy. You know those big fans they have at the hardware store that float a beach ball indefinitely because they are big ass fans?

Me: Yes, I’ve been to Lowe’s.

Wang: It’s like they had a real big one of those and pointed it sideways to make me piss all over myself. Woo-wee! I tell you what, if I wasn’t drunk already I’d a been pissed off, and pissed on.

Me: So why were you urinating on the girls’ dormitory during a typhoon in the first place?

Wang: Because I was trying to seem some pussy faggot!

Me: Oh. Thanks for your time.

Wang: No. Thank you, ya fuckin’ cha bagger. I’m the God damn son of a bitch that smells like his own motherfuckin’ piss.

Nature. Fate. Causality. Call it what you will, but the scars that this storm left will take time to heal. The damage alone caused by this hellish deluge that dropped no less than one inch of rain will cost the city of Hangzhou upwards of US $35.00. I, for one, am thankful just for being able to say that I am alive today to report this. And I thank God above for giving me the foresight to not teach English in Calcutta.