Love and Marriage

Jinghong, China

I'm married. Surprised? It actually came as quite a surprise to me, as well. It was fairly unexpected. Now before certain friends and family members have a heart attack, bang their heads against various pieces of furniture and start writing frantic emails questioning my sanity let me clarify a few things:
It's not at all how it seems. It's not actually for real. But it was a nice surprise. The girl, Iris, is a very lovely person. I met her here in Jinghong, just walking past in the street, saying hello. We started talking and liked each other. She's the reason I ended up staying a lot longer than I originally intended. One day we went to a minority village near here and were picked among other tourists for a ceremony they were performing. We didn't even know the purpose of the ceremony because nobody spoke Mandarin with us. There was a lot of hooting and dancing. We were each given a cup of some strong rice liquor. Then among more hooting led to another hut where we were given another cup of the same liquor. Then the young man that seemed to play the role of the village chief tied a red ribbon around our right wrists. Only now a Chinese speaking guide explained that we were now married and were not supposed to take the ribbon off anymore. It had all happened so fast it took a moment to sink in. Then we were escorted to a bed a huddled together among loud cheers.
The funny thing is that even though all this was just for show it feels real. She's a wonderful girl and I'm happy I can share this memory with her. It's very sad that I can't stay. We both know that. Maybe that makes us try to enjoy every moment. We got together after only knowing each other a day, got married five days later. A few days later I'll have to go and we don't know what the future will bring. But one thing is for sure - the red ribbon will stay with me. Whatever the future may bring, whatever God may have in store for us, I won't forget you, Iris.

Pride and Prejudice

Jinghong, China

This entry is backdated. I was in no shape at the time to write this.
Iris had told me a friend of hers wanted to invite us for dinner. He belongs to one of the local ethnic minorities. Part of the village is actually a minor tourist attraction where you can learn about the minority and their customs. The friend would give us a tour and treat us to a local dinner.
Now I don't even know why I was in a bad mood nor when it started. I just remember I was there and I wasn't happy. The thing is I was treated very politely. Iris's friend offered us tea while we sat down to chat. At the same time there was nothing for me to do while Iris and her friend talked about school and other friends I didn't know. Sometimes they would use the local dialect which I couldn't follow. It could well have been my ego acting up. You get used to being the center of attention here, so much that you come to expect it and get disappointed if people ignore you. I'm sure I've mentioned that before, so I don't want to exclude that possibility. At the same time I didn't like the way the other guys were smiling at me. They were showing off their skills, working hard, expertly cutting up various vegetables with big knives. Iris was praising their work. I felt I had nothing to compete with them for her attention. So, it may well also have started with jealousy.
Her friend gave us the promised tour. His wife joined us. They took turns telling us about the village while we walked around the traditional stilt buildings. This was the touristy section of the settlement. Unfortunately, the music and dance performances were already over for the day. There was only one other small group of Chinese tourists with their guide. It was in the main house here that Iris and I got caught up in the ceremony that left us officially married. For a short while I got carried away and forgot about my misgivings.
They soon flared up again. Worse than before. I almost felt something like hostility towards Iris's friends, even though they had spent the last hour or two cooking up a feast of a dinner for us. Something inside me was ranting that they were trying to make a point, prove something. Maybe it wasn't all groundless. In China (more so than in Europe, I think) there is a certain status gain associated with being the host. Men literally squabble over who picks up the bill at the restaurant. The one who pays gains kudos. The guest is treated very politely, like the king of the round table, but in a sense it is to a certain extent at his expense that the host looks good. I had been in the situation before and didn't like this kind of social game. It still makes me feel belittled in a way that's hard to put into words. Perhaps I'm also frustrated because I still can't play along since I'm not used to it and don't understand the social mechanics fully. So I got myself worked up into a virtual fury. In the end Iris noticed something was wrong but it was too late.
We had dinner. The plates covered the whole table. There were various meats and vegetables, all highly spiced. The highlight was a cooked animal that one of Iris's friends had shot in the forest. I noticed small hand-like paws but everyone denied it was a monkey. This leads me to believe it must have been some kind of lizard. It was quite tasty. Then came the alcohol and it marked the beginning of the end. They had beer and some home-made rice liquor in an unmarked plastic bottle. This was my moment to shine! We Germans can take alcohol. They offered me beer. I almost hated them for it. The girls drank beer! I drink what you drink. No, I don't want less than you. 干杯！ We knocked the glasses back. Their home-made brew ran through my system like liquid fire. Not only that it was very strong but it was spicy hot like the local dark red chillies. I have never tasted anything comparable. It was vile. Soon our host poured another cup. 干杯！ Down went the next cup. The sensation wasn't any better. It was still vile. But I couldn't back down. Soon after this my memory starts getting a bit hazy. I don't remember how many cups of this literal firewater followed. I do remember that my stomach felt worse after every cup, every mouthful even. I drank more slowly now but tried to keep up. I remember the guys laughing, having fun - who knows at what. I remember Iris's worried look. She tried to stop me but initially I just brushed her aside. Did she think I couldn't take it? That I wasn't as much a man as they were? She was only drinking beer but was also getting tipsy I think. Eventually, I followed her advice but switched to beer (I think). It was dark already. I don't recall how long this went on. I remember one of Iris's friends (who presumably hadn't been drinking) loaded us in his car to take us back to Jinghong. I remember snippets of looking at the ceiling of a dark car moving through the night, saying something about feeling better or not being drunk. I must have passed out. The next conscious memory is me leaning out of the car door, almost painfully vomiting into the gutter of a paved, well-lit street. The horrible stuff still felt spicy, burning in my throat as I spit it out. It felt like the retching would never stop. Somehow, the driver must have dropped us off. I remember making it to the bathroom of my hotel room just in time before I threw up again - all over the floor this time. I had to steady myself on the sink. After another eternity, when the nausea subsided, I finally felt a bit better. Even my head had cleared a little - enough to give me the presence of mind to flush the bathroom floor and clean up the mess (God bless the Chinese for having bathrooms where you can do that).
I woke up some time during the day feeling literally like shit and hating myself. I've rarely ever felt so miserable. My head felt like it was twice the size, there was a taste in my mouth as if something had died in it, all sounds were muffled as if they passed through cotton wool and I had no appetite whatsoever. And I was probably lucky that I had thrown everything up. Imagine this shit still being in my system! Nonetheless, for an entire day I wanted to die quietly in a corner. Iris kept me company but I don't think it was much fun. I was angry that I had let myself go like that and frustrated that I was wasting an entire day for this reason.
The final insult came when Iris confessed that our "kind" driver from last night had actually made her an indecent proposal. "After your friend has left how about we have a few drinks together and you come to my place?" Something like that he had said. Even while I was still in the car with them! I was angry again. Some fine friends she had! Invitation or no, I seriously don't want to meet any more of them.
And I'm never touching alcohol again.

How I met Iris

Jinghong, China

How likely do you think is it to walk into somebody in the street and just become friends? Not a fellow backpacker, not anyone you pay for a service but just a random person.
I was walking outside Manting Park in Jinghong thinking about whether it would be worth paying for the ticket to go in.
Out comes a girl struggling with two small dogs on a leash. I smile at the way they pull her forward barking wildly. It seems more like they are walking her than the other way around. She notices my smile, smiles back and says: "Hello." I say "hello" back and then: "Do you need help?" She actually stops and we chat about her dogs. In the end, we walk a bit together and I take the leash for her. I realise the dogs are really strong and want to go everywhere - at the same time. We talk and walk around town. She shows me the church she goes to - she's a Christian. She teaches at a school nearby but she's free because of summer holidays. I end up having dinner with her and two of her friends. And just before that we make plans for visiting a Dai Minority Park together tomorrow.
This trip keeps surprising me.

Making an Impact

Jinghong, China

I've always wondered how many of the English translations in China get written. Yesterday, I had the unique chance to be part of that process.
It was quite surprising actually. And tiring considering that I haven't done a day's work for a while. Hehe.
It all started innocently when I mentioned to the girl at the reception of my guesthouse here that their sign at the roadside and at the door (the guesthouse is in a backyard) are not the same. One reads "Dai Building Inn", the other "Dai Garden Building". According to the Lonely Planet (another time that it proved less than useful) I was looking for a guesthouse named the former but couldn't find it because the sign at the road was different (and hung way to high and out of sight). So I mentioned the signs were different. I was taken aback by the question: "What should it say then?" Well, considering the Chinese “傣家花苑小楼” (literally: Dai Family Flower Garden Small Building) I said that the name next to the road was the correct translation. Oh, she reacted, but the other sign was also told us by a foreigner. Well, not every foreigner that may speak some Chinese can also speak proper English. I was even more surprised that she and her husband (?) immediately went about changing the erroneous text on the inner sign. They kept coming back to me asking how to spread out the English words and where to put which word. It turned out that it worked out too long for their sign, so me and my Australian room mate started thinking about how to say it. In the end, we came up with "Dai Garden Lodge" which seems to fit the meaning and the sign and also, we agreed, sounds nice. They eagerly wrote everything down and disappeared.
Later, my room mate wanted to buy a boat ticket (it is possible to take a boat from here along the Mekong River to Thailand). When the staff at the ticket counter realised I spoke Chinese and English they quickly conjured up a notice sign about procedures at their port, written in Chinese on one side and English on the other. Could we have a look at the English side, please, and check it for mistakes. We looked. We looked again. The heading was something like "The beard to the tourist to know". We both do have beards but what did that have to do with anything. It went on in this style. Chinglish. I'm sorry to say that we couldn't help but laugh. Most of it was almost incomprehensible. The girls looked at us embarrassed. Could we try to help them work out a better translation? It looked like a lot of work. Now? Here? Err ... we were about to wind our way out of the situation when fate came to their aid. It started pouring down. A literal rain storm. Hmm... might as well do a good deed. I do hate to see Chinese at the butt end of international jokes because of bad English translations. "And they say that a hero could save us..." We dug into the forest of grammatical anomalies and unknown Chinese characters and only emerged hours later. We wiped the sweat off our foreheads. Now the heading says "Notice to the Traveler". I won't guarantee that any of it will hold up legally in English but now it's understandable. It's actually English. We were rewarded with a huge dinner and Dai performance. And some seriously strong local firewater.
When we got back to the guesthouse late in the evening the sign on the inner door read "Welcome to Dai Garden Lodge".
Talk about making an impact.