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There is no appropriate title for the entry I am about to write. I therefore leave it to whoever reads it to come up with a way to summerize what happened today...
I woke up this morning around 6, hoping to make it in time to meet my ta and my friends at the north gate at 7. It is always pleasant to walk along the streets of Chengdu at a time like this before the streets and the roads are filled with the daily crowd. After enjoying a morning meal of some baked goods and dates courtesy of Andrea, the five of us (Andrea, Sarah, Ben, Matt and I) grabbed a taxi and headed on over to bus station. We were in search of a soy sauce factory outside a city called LeZhi. What was so interesting about this particular place was that it still made soy sauce the traditional way. Andrea had read about it in a book called Salt, a book I would suggest reading for anyone who is interested in how salt has played a role in world history. I personally haven't had the chance to read it, but I hope to sometime in the future.
We sat in the last row of seats on the bus. Our trip would take about 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Being the usual person who just can't not sleep, I slept for the first 45 minutes to 1 hour of the ride. I woke up to find on some sort of a dirt road where there were markets on either side of us selling meats, fruits, and vegetables. The five of us began to chat about movies and were thinking about having a movie night sometime. At that instant, for what reason I really don't know, I directed my attention to watching the road ahead of us. A motorcycle carrying three peoplewas crossing into our path, seeming as though it was going to make it across the street before we would pass. I suppose these things slow down in time but as I watched them something seemed wrong. They were not speeding up and our bus wasn't slowing down. As I watched one man look straight into the bus, we crashed into them. The sound of the contact was and still is frightening. I couldn't see what was happening because for one, the entire windshield became fragmented with some areas completely shattered, and two I instinctively closed my eyes. When I opened them, I glanced outside to see why someone kept repeating "Oh my god." One of the guys on the motorcycle was lying outside our window with what looked like a serious, serious head injury. Blood was spilling onto the streets, streaming from this head, his nose, and his ears. His lips had turned blue and had labored breathing. The other two didn't seem to be hurt as bad as this guy...but then again, they could have had major internal injuries. People began to gather. Some with cell phones and with some familiarity of the place called for help. Soon, an ambulence came and took the men away. We decided to hail down the next passing bus and head home to Chengdu.
In writing this entry, I am not sure what youwill take away from it. It's not as though I hope everyone walks away having had learned a lesson. I guess it's hard to even say anything but that this was a great, great tragedy.
China's traffic is unlike anything in the U.S. Over the past two months, I feel I have gotten more and more courage to charge into traffic like the locals do here. After this incidence, I am reminded that safety is so important.
I suppose other personal reflections about what happened is hard to write about...so I will leave it at this.

I pray for these men and their families.