Made in China: Good Impressions

Wednesday, Jul. 11, 2001 By KAISER KUO

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A 20-minute ride in Han Qiyin's red VW Santana sealed it for me: Beijing truly does deserve the 2008 Olympic games.

"Is that English you're writing?" Han asked me. The 40-year-old cabbie was watching me scribble some notes on a legal pad for the meeting I was heading to. "That's right," I answered, "it's English."

"Tell me, how do you say yingxiang in English?"

"Impression."

Beijing cabbies are, as a rule, of either the foul-mouthed and surly ilk or the earnest and garrulous sort. Either they'll swear their heads off or talk your ear off. Han, I could sense, was prepared to do the latter.

"What is your impression of this city?" The words were forced but quite distinct. He beamed at me triumphantly, expecting praise and not an actual answer to his question.

"Not bad! So you're learning your "Hundred English Sentences" for the Olympic bid?"

"Buddy, whether or not Beijing gets the Olympics, I have a lot of foreign passengers. They all teach me some English." We were stuck in heavy afternoon traffic. Han pulled out an English textbook and a scribble pad covered in random English words -- intersection and temperature, mansion and trouble. "Do you think Beijing has a good chance?"

I assured him that it was a foregone conclusion: There were only three days before the International Olympic Committee vote. President George W. Bush had announced that the U.S. would remain neutral. The guy in charge of the Parisian bid was now embroiled in some alleged money laundering scandal. And the mayor of Toronto had made a terrible gaffe, talking about his fears of cannibals and cooking pots on the eve of a trip to Kenya. Han got a big kick out of the mayor's comments.

"Are all the Beijing cab drivers going to be tested on their English?" I asked.

"No one's going to care if Beijing doesn't get the bid. Anyway, I'm not worried. I've been driving taxis for eight years. I know the English names for all the places in Beijing. Test me!"

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I did test him, and to my great astonishment Han aced every question -- English to Chinese and Chinese to English. The Foreign Ministry. The People's University. The International Exhibition Center. The China Resources Building, where I was headed. "How about the Guoji Julebu Fandian?" I asked, certain that would stump him.

He answered back with "The International Club Hotel. Also called the Saint Regis." He reached deep into his throat for the "r," like the French knights in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Again, he beamed.

I asked him whether he thought Beijing getting the Olympics was a good thing. "Well, for me, it's not so good. I've heard they're going to build a subway line to the airport." That's the first I'd heard of such a plan. "So it's not like I'll get a lot more fares."

But will the Olympics be good for Beijing, and for China?

When we arrived at the China Resources Building, Han turned to face me, his face suddenly solemn. "Of course it will be good for Beijing and good for China. The whole world will be watching. Something like this can change the way people think. It can change the whole country."

I weighed his words as I fished out a 20-yuan note. His impish grin returned as he handed me my change and asked, in that hard-earned English, "Would you like a receipt?"