Ridin' in the Back of a Cop Car

I never aspired to being able to say that I've ridden in the back of a cop car -- especially a cop car in China -- but I have. (This story happened way back in September before life got crazy, the SPUBA (SPU business abroad) group arrived, I began my 2nd job, I went on vacation, our internet went out for a week, and I took another vacation. But enough of excuses. I'm now back and ready to tell more tales from my adventures in the Middle Kingdom.) About that cop car...
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We waited at the corner -- the corner at the entrance of our housing development where there is a bus stop and a light with an actual crosswalk (no buttons to push but an actual working crosswalk system that most people obey and actual stoplights that, like the crosswalk lights, most people obey...depends on the day...). We (we being a few other teachers and myself) waited for our friend: the chief of police to pick us up and take us out to dinner. Yep, that's right, I'm friends with the chief of police.
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A phone rang. "Yep, we're here."
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No more than 5 seconds later did the car drive around the corner and into sight, as if it had been waiting for us. Didn't want to make a scene, of course. We piled in -- Mr. Zhou (the chief) in the front; his daughter and the rest of us crammed in the back. Pulling away from the curb I had no clue where we were headed (this is the norm when going out with the cops). Looking through the tinted windows we saw the aftermath of a fender bender. We didn't stop. Dinner was waiting. This was probably the safest I've felt in a motorized vehicle in all of China (despite the fact that seat belts were still taboo -- even in a police car).
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We arrived at a classy restaurant in Beibei -- "classy" meaning that it might be at a sanitary level at which it could pass a U.S. health code examination with only a little bit of fudging the numbers. As it is with every meal we eat with the cops, the food was plentiful. We dined for quite some time -- all the while making attempts at conversations with the help of those who can translate. Jokes are even more amusing. The entire table listens as the speaker tells his story but only half can understand; that half laughs when the punchline is delivered while the other half smile and chuckle, knowing that something funny is coming. The joke is then translated to the second half while the first half watch closely -- waiting for the laughter to ensue. It does. And everyone at the table breaks into laughter now that the joke is understood by all. This might seem like a tedious process, but one must experience it to fully appreciate the beauty and humor within these moments.
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The night is usually concluded with a few hours at a nearby KTV (Karaoke). I can't even begin to tell you how many humiliating nights I have spent belting out "My Heart Will Go On", "Yellow Submarine", and "A Whole New World". There are even some ever-popular Chinese songs that I've heard so many times I think I could proudly sing along. But I won't.

At the end of the evening -- usually 5+ hours after we were picked up -- we are escorted home by a caravan of cops and their friends from around Beibei. Everyone gets out of their car to say goodbye and the finale of our party, I'm sure, wakes the neighborhood. Oh, the things that happen just because I am a foreigner.