China’s Ordinary JoeWHEN WE FIRST moved to China, I would fight to escape crowds, seeking out the quiet alleyways or at least the less-crowded side of the street. It is difficult to avoid a crowd in a country of 1.3 billion people. Crowds gather to exercise in the parks even at the earliest hours of the morning. At noontime, lines swell in front of the best dumpling or steamed-bun stands. On trendy city streets, day crowds of office workers meld into night crowds of shoppers who browse the vendors’ sidewalk blankets spread thick with cheap jewelry or hair clips in summer, and gloves or warm socks in winter. Crowds beget crowds beget crowds.Then one day I learned about the value of crowds. I was standing nearly alone at a corner crosswalk; there were just two of us pedestrians. As I stepped off the curb onto a one-way street, with oncoming traffic stopped 30 yards to my right and the green Walk sign blinking in my favor, from the left shot a motor scooter—which hit me and knocked me to the ground.
