We round-eyed, big-nosed Westerners were summoned to the front of the line and ushered up the gangway while the Chinese—hundreds of hoi polloi with their mountains of possessions—were left waiting behind the ropes on the pier below, roasting in the sun, looking on sloe-eyed while cargo trucks pulled up and unloaded their freight onto the melty asphalt, and the air filled with the oversweet stench of motor oil.
