[Only in Beijing] For Your Own Safety [仅在北京] 为了你自己的安全

In the waning days of October, I found myself trudging from one supermarket to the next, searching in vain for a knife with a serrated blade. Like many of my friends back home, I had plans to carve pumpkins, though this would be my first time sharing the tradition with some Chinese family friends, ages nine and thirteen. Four adorable orange squashes awaited creative butchery, and I needed to find proper tools for the job.

Inexplicably, the first supermarket I visited had no knives on display. When my second attempt also found no success, I grew impatient. The sun had set, and as I fanned my search out in a half-mile radius, braving Beijing’s crosswalks felt increasingly like a life-and-death affair. Yet nowhere could I find anything save forks, spoons, and cutting boards. With dinner fast approaching, I decided to head back to my friends’ house, where I would have to make due with dull fruit knives. Spotting an unexplored grocery store, I dashed across the street, dodging squirrely motorbikes in a last-ditch effort to find my coveted cutlery.

The selection wasn’t fantastic, but I was finally able to get my hands on a suitable blade. At checkout, however, the woman gave my prized knife a discerning look before calling over the manager.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t buy this knife.”

“Huh?”

“The 18th Party Congress is about to start. No one is allowed to buy knives.”

Just days before, I heard Romney and Obama bicker over assault weapon bans. Meanwhile, the Chinese government stuck with a simpler stance: No private citizen can own a gun, and “knife control” is on the table, especially given the current political situation. Granted, the stakes are high for the CCP, which seeks to build the elusive “harmonious society.” But two weeks before leadership changes hands, does restricting the sale of kitchenware truly make China a safer place?

As I waited for the opportune time to jaywalk across a red light, I smiled as I realized how difficult it was for me to find a store that sells bike helmets. Some of my Chinese peers imagine America as a land of gun-slinging hooligans, whereas my friends and family at times worry that if the pollution doesn’t get me, a cavalier taxi driver will. In some ways, they’re both right. But I’ve survived both countries so far, and I plan to keep that record alive.在暗淡的十月里，我从一家超市走到另一家，无力地寻找一把有锯齿的刀。像我在家乡的很多朋友一样，我计划雕刻南瓜，这将是我第一次与一些中国家庭朋友（9岁和13岁）分享这一传统。四个很惹人喜爱的橙色南瓜在等待雕琢，我需要一把合适的工具来执行这项任务。

很不可理解，我去的第一个超市没有陈列任何刀具。当我的第二次尝试仍没有成功，我变得很没耐心。太阳落下了，当我把我的追寻扩大到方圆半英里，在北京的人行道上走似乎成了生与死的较量。但是我仍然找不到除了叉子、勺子和菜板以外的任何用具。晚餐时间快到了，我决定回到我朋友的住处，可以在那里使用笨拙的水果刀。这是我突然发现一家没去过的超市，我穿过了马路，躲闪着穿梭的摩托车，为找到我贪求的刀具尽最后的努力。

选择并不多，但我终于找到了一把合适的刀。在付款的时候，然而，那位女士怀疑地看着我得来不易的刀，最后把经理叫了过来。

“对不起，你不能买这把刀。”

“啊？”

“十八大就要开始了。所有人禁止买刀。”

在这之前，我听说了罗姆尼和奥巴马在枪支管理问题上的争执。同时，中国政府制定了一个更简单的政策：所有普通市民不许拥有枪支，然后又出台了“刀具管理”，在目前的政治情况下。中国共产党的呼声很高，要建设一个模糊不清的“和谐社会”。但是政府换届两周前，管理刀具的销售真的会让中国更安全吗？

当我在等待擅闯红灯横穿马路的机会时，我笑了，意识到对我来说，找到一家卖自行车头盔的商店有多难。我的一些中国朋友认为美国是一个充满了带枪流氓的国度，但我的家人和朋友却时而担心要是环境污染还不能影响我，一个草率的计程车司机会。在某种程度上，他们都对。但是我在这两个国家都生存了下来，我也计划保持我的记录。