As for my 2 fen: I really had no clue what I was getting into. I only knew I was going into a part of China known only for its honorable mention on Chinese takeout menus across America. It was my second day incountry when my employer drove us from Gaungzhou to a “small” city in Hunan. Traffic came to a dead halt three hours into our drive north along Jingzhu Expressway. There had been an accident, and we were expected to wait at least an hour. I will never forget the festival that sprung out of the tarmact. People got out of their cars. Truckers dumped out greasy bags of KFC chicken bones. Children played tag. Boys passed out cigarettes and hawked up loogies. You heard pop and traditional Chinese competing from various sound systems. Girls shielding themselves from the midday sun with parasols strolled by our car in high heels, as elegant as if they born on a Milan catwalk. And peasants from a dilapidated village capitalized on it all: They came out of the rice fields in their pajamas and cone hats bearing goodies by the bucket loads. This was the first of many puzzles pieces in a larger jigsaw that seems to indicate China is more capitalistic than America.