China is a country that attracts foreigners a lot and attracts more and more of them these days. I mean, hey, I'm here for a reason. People in the Wudaokou area of Beijing will certainly not be surprised to see a Westerner anymore.
In China, though, there are a number of kinds or "subtypes" of foreigners. Let me explain. In Russia, e.g., there are about two kinds of foreigners: mainly the one that speaks Russian and the one that doesn't (and maybe the occasional language student).
Now, in China there are degrees. First, there's the clueless, the tourist - you see them stand in front of signs for extended periods of time trying to match the writing with that in their guide book or note. I guess, to be fair, that's how we all start. Occasionally, you also get the stubbornly clueless - often from English-speaking countries. "Why don't they just speak English?"
Then you have your average language student, who speaks and reads some Chinese and is very proud of it, too. They will, on occasion, be very eager to help translate for lesser types to show off their skills at mastering this difficult language. (somehow I have a feeling this is where I fit in the food chain)
Then there's the proficient language student who speaks and reads fluently - to the great amazement of locals and annoyance of the average student: "why does he get all the attention?"
There's the language teacher - again often from English-speaking countries. This subtype is often very apologetic about their apparent lack of improvement when it comes to learning Chinese: "if I only had more time..." An interesting variant of this one is the teacher from non-standard English backgrounds - be it from "Austroilia" or "Fronce". Makes you on one side pity their poor students (I once had a conversation with a New Zealand teacher who I could hardly understand). On the other hand you wonder if this will result in Chinese people speaking English with an Irish brogue or slight Tsherman aktsent. That would certainly be exotic!
Finally, there's the "I live and breathe China" type. It's not that common but once in a while there's a sighting - like with the Yeti. It's usually a mutation of the above types after staying in China for a prolonged time. Their language proficiency varies. They do commonly have a Chinese name and are proud of it - so proud that they may even choose to forget their real name (this has happened: "what's your English name?" - "没有" [I don't have one]). They will readily (requested or not) dispense insights into this mystical country and its culture that their long sojourn has allowed them to gain. Toward other Westerners they will try to act as Chinese as possible and relentlessly support their new chosen home. Somehow I get the impression that if they didn't continue to stay here they would be completely unfit to return to the rest of the world. I hope I never enter on that dark path or forever will it dominate my destiny.
Monday, 3 March 2008
Wednesday, 27 February 2008
It's like a war out there - Spring Festival in China
Beijing, China
What I may have missed in terms of celebration or atmosphere during Christmas and New Year was all made up for on 6th of February. Both in significance and scale the Spring Festival - aka Chinese/Lunar New Year - is like Christmas and the Western New Year combined together. It's a time for the family to gather together, eat lots of (homecooked) food, play Mah Jongg, for children to pay respect to their grandparents and receive red packets (small red envelops containing money) in return. Like Christmas in the west this is the time when people overcome their stingy self and spend lots of money - mainly on food and on Mah Jongg. But since it's a time of renewal they also buy lots of other new things. And on fireworks. Yes, this is the time when every foreigner gets a reminder of who invented the stuff.
Starting a few days before the end of the lunar year the sound of firecrackers becomes your constant companion. There are the rockets and single crackers that we also see in the west. Then there are the famous chains that may look small and harmless (if they just have 300-odd members) but when lit produce a staccato like a full-blown machine gun. Believe me: keep your distance. Size matters not! And then you get the single big ones. They pack a boom strong enough to rattle your window and set off car alarms (and probably pace makers) at a distance.
This noise then gets a bit more intense every day until the eve of New Year. Then when you think people must have run out by now, used up their last stashes, it reaches a climax of epic proportions. At midnight that day it's like all hell breaks loose all at once. I've never seen anything like it in Europe - even in a metropolis like London or Berlin. I believe it must be loud of enough to wake up the spirits of the ancestors. And it seems to go on forever. In Europe the big climax normally fades into silence as people run out or get tired. Not so in China. Nobody seems to get tired, so things go on like this for more than an hour. At the same time the atmosphere is electrifying: young and old come outside despite the cold February night to join the fun or at least to watch. Everybody seems happy. So, I couldn't help buying some, as well, and it was great fun to make some noise. And then when my meagre supplies had run out me and my friend just stood outside being amazed.
Then the night is up and you think silence will return. And you're wrong again. New Year festivities carry on for two weeks. The only weeks of the year when it is legal in China to buy or sell firecrackers. People make the most of it. After some time it all becomes background noise. The only thing that remains is quiet amazement at how much money people are willing to spend on this. Big (1000 - 5000) chains of firecrackers easily cost hundreds of RMB. The kids love it, of course.
And then comes the second climax: 元宵节; 15 days after New Year marks the end of Spring Festival. And for one more night all hell breaks loose again as people fire about anything they have left into the air (at least, that was my impression). It goes on for hours. Once more people celebrate and traditionally eat a soup with sweet dumplings: 元宵. And finally, the war is over and almost to my disappointment silence returns - or as much as silence ever returns in a country as lively and populated as China.
What I may have missed in terms of celebration or atmosphere during Christmas and New Year was all made up for on 6th of February. Both in significance and scale the Spring Festival - aka Chinese/Lunar New Year - is like Christmas and the Western New Year combined together. It's a time for the family to gather together, eat lots of (homecooked) food, play Mah Jongg, for children to pay respect to their grandparents and receive red packets (small red envelops containing money) in return. Like Christmas in the west this is the time when people overcome their stingy self and spend lots of money - mainly on food and on Mah Jongg. But since it's a time of renewal they also buy lots of other new things. And on fireworks. Yes, this is the time when every foreigner gets a reminder of who invented the stuff.
Starting a few days before the end of the lunar year the sound of firecrackers becomes your constant companion. There are the rockets and single crackers that we also see in the west. Then there are the famous chains that may look small and harmless (if they just have 300-odd members) but when lit produce a staccato like a full-blown machine gun. Believe me: keep your distance. Size matters not! And then you get the single big ones. They pack a boom strong enough to rattle your window and set off car alarms (and probably pace makers) at a distance.
This noise then gets a bit more intense every day until the eve of New Year. Then when you think people must have run out by now, used up their last stashes, it reaches a climax of epic proportions. At midnight that day it's like all hell breaks loose all at once. I've never seen anything like it in Europe - even in a metropolis like London or Berlin. I believe it must be loud of enough to wake up the spirits of the ancestors. And it seems to go on forever. In Europe the big climax normally fades into silence as people run out or get tired. Not so in China. Nobody seems to get tired, so things go on like this for more than an hour. At the same time the atmosphere is electrifying: young and old come outside despite the cold February night to join the fun or at least to watch. Everybody seems happy. So, I couldn't help buying some, as well, and it was great fun to make some noise. And then when my meagre supplies had run out me and my friend just stood outside being amazed.
Then the night is up and you think silence will return. And you're wrong again. New Year festivities carry on for two weeks. The only weeks of the year when it is legal in China to buy or sell firecrackers. People make the most of it. After some time it all becomes background noise. The only thing that remains is quiet amazement at how much money people are willing to spend on this. Big (1000 - 5000) chains of firecrackers easily cost hundreds of RMB. The kids love it, of course.
And then comes the second climax: 元宵节; 15 days after New Year marks the end of Spring Festival. And for one more night all hell breaks loose again as people fire about anything they have left into the air (at least, that was my impression). It goes on for hours. Once more people celebrate and traditionally eat a soup with sweet dumplings: 元宵. And finally, the war is over and almost to my disappointment silence returns - or as much as silence ever returns in a country as lively and populated as China.
Saturday, 16 February 2008
哪里，哪里 - Not at all, not at all
Here's another observation about Chinese people. It's a common one made by many foreigners here but it's a very lovable one and it's always worth saying again.
While the Chinese themselves are very humble and reluctant to accept any praise they are very eager to deal it out. The most common example is that of the foreigner that just manages to pronounce the "ni hao" (hello) reasonably correctly. This will most likely earn him a praise of "oh, your Chinese is so good" or "you speak almost as good as Chinese people".
Now, while these days in Western countries it is common to acknowledge a compliment with a polite nod and a "thank you" it is considered polite in China to completely deny the compliment. Still, in areas where foreigners are common people have got used to Westerners' ways of saying "thank you". However, if you counter their compliment with an appropriate "bu hao, bu hao" (not good, not good) or "nali, nali" (not at all, not at all) you're likely to get even more praise for knowing this cultural detail. This happened even from our teachers and even though this habit is commonly mentioned in every textbook. If you then praise your opposite's English or other language proficiency this can lead to interesting exchanges of mutual praising and denying.
This habit and its consequences are nicely illustrated in a (Chinese) joke, which goes like this:
A foreigner who is just learning Chinese is meeting his Chinese friend and his wife. In class the foreigner has learnt that you should praise, so for example praise your friend's wife. So he says: "你老婆很漂亮. (Your wife is very pretty.)"
The Chinese friend, of course being humble, replies: "哪里,哪里. (not at all, but can also mean a question of "where, where abouts")"
So, the foreigner, misunderstanding, responds by pointing at the important parts of the lady's anatomy commenting: "这里漂亮,这里也漂亮... (here she's pretty, here she's also pretty)"
Of course, this habit eventually leads to the fact that you don't take any compliments seriously anymore. I just know my Chinese level is not that good. Still, in other - especially English-speaking - countries people just take for granted that your speak - or try to speak - their language. It's nice to have your ego stroked once in a while.
While the Chinese themselves are very humble and reluctant to accept any praise they are very eager to deal it out. The most common example is that of the foreigner that just manages to pronounce the "ni hao" (hello) reasonably correctly. This will most likely earn him a praise of "oh, your Chinese is so good" or "you speak almost as good as Chinese people".
Now, while these days in Western countries it is common to acknowledge a compliment with a polite nod and a "thank you" it is considered polite in China to completely deny the compliment. Still, in areas where foreigners are common people have got used to Westerners' ways of saying "thank you". However, if you counter their compliment with an appropriate "bu hao, bu hao" (not good, not good) or "nali, nali" (not at all, not at all) you're likely to get even more praise for knowing this cultural detail. This happened even from our teachers and even though this habit is commonly mentioned in every textbook. If you then praise your opposite's English or other language proficiency this can lead to interesting exchanges of mutual praising and denying.
This habit and its consequences are nicely illustrated in a (Chinese) joke, which goes like this:
A foreigner who is just learning Chinese is meeting his Chinese friend and his wife. In class the foreigner has learnt that you should praise, so for example praise your friend's wife. So he says: "你老婆很漂亮. (Your wife is very pretty.)"
The Chinese friend, of course being humble, replies: "哪里,哪里. (not at all, but can also mean a question of "where, where abouts")"
So, the foreigner, misunderstanding, responds by pointing at the important parts of the lady's anatomy commenting: "这里漂亮,这里也漂亮... (here she's pretty, here she's also pretty)"
Of course, this habit eventually leads to the fact that you don't take any compliments seriously anymore. I just know my Chinese level is not that good. Still, in other - especially English-speaking - countries people just take for granted that your speak - or try to speak - their language. It's nice to have your ego stroked once in a while.
Monday, 7 January 2008
Web Exclusive: 不用跑步 - No need to run - Police in China
Beijing, China
This one's so fresh it could be the Prince of Bel Air. It hasn't even found its way into my little green book. It just had to go out straight away.
Today, on my way to school, I had my first (and hopefully last) encounter with Chinese police. There were three of them, two in uniform, one in plain clothes. “朋友 (friend)”, they hailed me. I was a bit surprised. Where did I live? I pointed, told them the street name. What house number, they demanded. I had forgotten; people don't send me (physical) letters, so I never bothered to memorise my address. I described the location next the new sports ground. What was the place, what house number, they insisted. They had formed a semi-circle around me. I had forgotten. Did I have my temporary resident's registration card on me? I was being suspected it seemed, eyes scanned me suspciously. I didn't have my card. I was told to go and fetch it, they would wait for me. I tried to object, I had a class to go to. No way, I was to go home and get it at once. They followed me, their car was parked along the road; this is where they would wait. “快一点儿 (quickly)”, one commanded from behind me. That annoyed me. I respected them as officers of the law but this was not called for. "No need to run, is there?" I hoped my sarcasm conveyed even with my limited Chinese. "No need", he responded sternly. Aw, thanks.
I left them waiting at their car. For a while the thought occured to me that they were not following, I could just go to my school by a different route. Sod the registration card. I'd be just like Dr. Kimble, Bonnie and Clyde. On the run, baby... My feet had carried me home before I had finished thinking. Damn, law abiding conscience!
They hardly looked at the damn card. "No. 5", the officer mused. Then informed me I should carry this card with me at all times, a copy was sufficient. Then his colleague, the one who wanted me to hurry, insisted on having a look, too. Maybe he didn't feel important enough yet. Then, with a pat on the shoulder, I was sent on my way feeling a bit like a terrorist.
Why all the sarcasm? I don't have a problem with people doing their job. Sometimes it's just the way they do it that gets on my nerves a bit. Are you John Wayne or is it me?
This one's so fresh it could be the Prince of Bel Air. It hasn't even found its way into my little green book. It just had to go out straight away.
Today, on my way to school, I had my first (and hopefully last) encounter with Chinese police. There were three of them, two in uniform, one in plain clothes. “朋友 (friend)”, they hailed me. I was a bit surprised. Where did I live? I pointed, told them the street name. What house number, they demanded. I had forgotten; people don't send me (physical) letters, so I never bothered to memorise my address. I described the location next the new sports ground. What was the place, what house number, they insisted. They had formed a semi-circle around me. I had forgotten. Did I have my temporary resident's registration card on me? I was being suspected it seemed, eyes scanned me suspciously. I didn't have my card. I was told to go and fetch it, they would wait for me. I tried to object, I had a class to go to. No way, I was to go home and get it at once. They followed me, their car was parked along the road; this is where they would wait. “快一点儿 (quickly)”, one commanded from behind me. That annoyed me. I respected them as officers of the law but this was not called for. "No need to run, is there?" I hoped my sarcasm conveyed even with my limited Chinese. "No need", he responded sternly. Aw, thanks.
I left them waiting at their car. For a while the thought occured to me that they were not following, I could just go to my school by a different route. Sod the registration card. I'd be just like Dr. Kimble, Bonnie and Clyde. On the run, baby... My feet had carried me home before I had finished thinking. Damn, law abiding conscience!
They hardly looked at the damn card. "No. 5", the officer mused. Then informed me I should carry this card with me at all times, a copy was sufficient. Then his colleague, the one who wanted me to hurry, insisted on having a look, too. Maybe he didn't feel important enough yet. Then, with a pat on the shoulder, I was sent on my way feeling a bit like a terrorist.
Why all the sarcasm? I don't have a problem with people doing their job. Sometimes it's just the way they do it that gets on my nerves a bit. Are you John Wayne or is it me?
Saturday, 5 January 2008
Jingle, jingle, thump, thump - Christmas and New Year in China
Beijing, China
Believe it or not but there is now Christmas - 圣诞节 (sheng dan jie) - in China. Maybe not surprising at all - things from the west catch on quickly, like in all of Asia. Or rather, what catches on is that Christmas sells - an all too western attitude. So, it's a very American, commercial Christmas. All big restaurants and even some small ones - whether Chinese or Western - have Santas in the window jollily proclaiming "Happy X-Mas". I swear I even saw a garbage collector who had stuck "Merry Christmas" on his tricycle. Supermarkets and shopping malls are full of songs about jingling bells and red-nosed reindeers, waiters in restaurants wear silly Santa hats. I even saw full-blown Christmas trees and sleighs with likenesses of merry, fat men on them.
Not that this would affect anybody's life though - 圣诞节 is not a holiday here. People go to work and bustle in the streets and honk at each other's cars. There is no Christmas spirit. Of course, this is to be expected - this is, after all, China, not Europe. Still, it was a strange experience to be in a place for the first time where Christmas is not a major holiday. Heck, it was even in Singapore!
Something unexpected happend, though. Something I had also never experienced in this way: I missed home. I remembered the quiet winter evenings, walks in the residential area near my home, Christmas trees in every window. There would be special programs on TV for Christmas and New Year and, of course, food specialties. And Christmas fairs. All that did not exist here. And none of the oriental specialties - no matter how attached I had got - would make up for that. Maybe for the first time I came/come to realise that as much as I love and enjoy China, as much as I enjoy being abroad sometimes, all these places sometimes just cannot give me all that my home Germany can. They can never replace home. Not forever. I've been away for so long even before I came here but maybe I had to come this far to find this little bit of wisdom. I went travelling to learn something about life, about myself. So, is that the lesson I set out to find? I'll still give it some more time.
In the end, I went for dinner with some good friends and over some hot tea and firepot we wished each other “圣诞节愉快“ - "Merry Christmas".
New Year (the solar new year, to be precise) is another Western custom that is starting to catch on but still passes many locals by without them even noticing. The big New Year festival here is calculated according to the lunar calendar and commonly falls on the end of January or beginning of February. When I called some Chinese friends to ask them their plans for New Year's Eve they replied: "Sleep, tomorrow is a working day." That sums it up.
Nonetheless some bars and clubs organise New Year parties for - mainly for foreigners who don't fly home. In the end, I wound up following some friends to what organisers claimed to be Beijing's biggest New Year party at 706 Factory. Here, the advent of 2008 was celebrated with DJs, thumping techno beats and surprisingly expensive drinks - all for the price of RMB 70 entry ticket. Not my cup of tea really but it's the company that matters. Besides, I figured, who knows when I'll next get to celebrate New Year in this exciting metropolis. Let's see what 2008 has in store...
Frohe Weihnachten und ein gutes Neues Jahr!
Believe it or not but there is now Christmas - 圣诞节 (sheng dan jie) - in China. Maybe not surprising at all - things from the west catch on quickly, like in all of Asia. Or rather, what catches on is that Christmas sells - an all too western attitude. So, it's a very American, commercial Christmas. All big restaurants and even some small ones - whether Chinese or Western - have Santas in the window jollily proclaiming "Happy X-Mas". I swear I even saw a garbage collector who had stuck "Merry Christmas" on his tricycle. Supermarkets and shopping malls are full of songs about jingling bells and red-nosed reindeers, waiters in restaurants wear silly Santa hats. I even saw full-blown Christmas trees and sleighs with likenesses of merry, fat men on them.
Not that this would affect anybody's life though - 圣诞节 is not a holiday here. People go to work and bustle in the streets and honk at each other's cars. There is no Christmas spirit. Of course, this is to be expected - this is, after all, China, not Europe. Still, it was a strange experience to be in a place for the first time where Christmas is not a major holiday. Heck, it was even in Singapore!
Something unexpected happend, though. Something I had also never experienced in this way: I missed home. I remembered the quiet winter evenings, walks in the residential area near my home, Christmas trees in every window. There would be special programs on TV for Christmas and New Year and, of course, food specialties. And Christmas fairs. All that did not exist here. And none of the oriental specialties - no matter how attached I had got - would make up for that. Maybe for the first time I came/come to realise that as much as I love and enjoy China, as much as I enjoy being abroad sometimes, all these places sometimes just cannot give me all that my home Germany can. They can never replace home. Not forever. I've been away for so long even before I came here but maybe I had to come this far to find this little bit of wisdom. I went travelling to learn something about life, about myself. So, is that the lesson I set out to find? I'll still give it some more time.
In the end, I went for dinner with some good friends and over some hot tea and firepot we wished each other “圣诞节愉快“ - "Merry Christmas".
New Year (the solar new year, to be precise) is another Western custom that is starting to catch on but still passes many locals by without them even noticing. The big New Year festival here is calculated according to the lunar calendar and commonly falls on the end of January or beginning of February. When I called some Chinese friends to ask them their plans for New Year's Eve they replied: "Sleep, tomorrow is a working day." That sums it up.
Nonetheless some bars and clubs organise New Year parties for - mainly for foreigners who don't fly home. In the end, I wound up following some friends to what organisers claimed to be Beijing's biggest New Year party at 706 Factory. Here, the advent of 2008 was celebrated with DJs, thumping techno beats and surprisingly expensive drinks - all for the price of RMB 70 entry ticket. Not my cup of tea really but it's the company that matters. Besides, I figured, who knows when I'll next get to celebrate New Year in this exciting metropolis. Let's see what 2008 has in store...
Frohe Weihnachten und ein gutes Neues Jahr!
Sunday, 30 December 2007
How I got here - Only in China
Tianjin, China
Chasing phantoms again. Something tells me I'll be using that heading a lot of times still: Only in China. At the moment there are a lot of things that strike me as really only possible here. And here's one of them:
My ticket said "Beijing - Tianjin" (both in English and Chinese) when I got on the train at Beijing Railway Station. That was right. I was going to Tianjin. Not the most interesting of cities in China ("还可以", my teacher had commented, "only so-so" - and she was right) but that's beside the point. It's the weekend and I wanted to explore. So Tianjin is a good choice for a weekend trip.
I got off the train again one hour later, checked my map and planned the circuit around the city. The first surprise was that my first destination seemed further than expected. On the map only two and a half kilometers helpful people urged me to take the bus; it would be too far to walk. Was that just people generally being adverse to walking? But really, the bus took ages to get there. Maybe distances just looked shorter on maps; besides, my travel guide did make mistakes occasionally...
The full extent of my misconception only came to light when I wanted to return in the evening: The last place of interest was near the main train station, so I decided to walk to last bit and buy my ticket before grabbing dinner. At a big crossing I asked a few workers the way just to be sure: "Is this the right way to the train station?" The group looked back in confusion. "There's no train station here." - "No train station?" Was my Chinese not good enough and I was missing something important? A joke maybe? "No", came the reply, "it's closed." - Closed?! "But I'm sure I got off the train here this morning. More confused, incredulous looks. "That's not possible." Then, how the heck did I get here?! Trains from Beijing, they explained, now go to a different station and I'd better take a cab. Still, a bit bewildered I followed their advice and caught a scooter. Sure enough, it took some 20 minutes to get to our destination. I was already biting my nails because the scooter seemed to leave all lights of civilisation behind and I was envisioning being beaten for my money in some dark construction site when we came to inhabited areas again and pulled up at the train station that I recognised now. Everyone in Tianjin seemed to know about this change, only me the silly laowai (foreigner) trudged around completely clueless. This was the place I had arrived at -almost at the other end of the city! That was why the surroundings of the station hadn't matched my map. Good business for taxis I'm sure. I swear, there was no notice of this anywhere but, hey, who'd expect they would just close a train station like a neighbourhood shop?
Later a friend asked me: "How can they just close an entire train station?" I had no answer. Because they can. Maybe this is China: Anything is possible.
Chasing phantoms again. Something tells me I'll be using that heading a lot of times still: Only in China. At the moment there are a lot of things that strike me as really only possible here. And here's one of them:
My ticket said "Beijing - Tianjin" (both in English and Chinese) when I got on the train at Beijing Railway Station. That was right. I was going to Tianjin. Not the most interesting of cities in China ("还可以", my teacher had commented, "only so-so" - and she was right) but that's beside the point. It's the weekend and I wanted to explore. So Tianjin is a good choice for a weekend trip.
I got off the train again one hour later, checked my map and planned the circuit around the city. The first surprise was that my first destination seemed further than expected. On the map only two and a half kilometers helpful people urged me to take the bus; it would be too far to walk. Was that just people generally being adverse to walking? But really, the bus took ages to get there. Maybe distances just looked shorter on maps; besides, my travel guide did make mistakes occasionally...
The full extent of my misconception only came to light when I wanted to return in the evening: The last place of interest was near the main train station, so I decided to walk to last bit and buy my ticket before grabbing dinner. At a big crossing I asked a few workers the way just to be sure: "Is this the right way to the train station?" The group looked back in confusion. "There's no train station here." - "No train station?" Was my Chinese not good enough and I was missing something important? A joke maybe? "No", came the reply, "it's closed." - Closed?! "But I'm sure I got off the train here this morning. More confused, incredulous looks. "That's not possible." Then, how the heck did I get here?! Trains from Beijing, they explained, now go to a different station and I'd better take a cab. Still, a bit bewildered I followed their advice and caught a scooter. Sure enough, it took some 20 minutes to get to our destination. I was already biting my nails because the scooter seemed to leave all lights of civilisation behind and I was envisioning being beaten for my money in some dark construction site when we came to inhabited areas again and pulled up at the train station that I recognised now. Everyone in Tianjin seemed to know about this change, only me the silly laowai (foreigner) trudged around completely clueless. This was the place I had arrived at -almost at the other end of the city! That was why the surroundings of the station hadn't matched my map. Good business for taxis I'm sure. I swear, there was no notice of this anywhere but, hey, who'd expect they would just close a train station like a neighbourhood shop?
Later a friend asked me: "How can they just close an entire train station?" I had no answer. Because they can. Maybe this is China: Anything is possible.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
V.I.P.
Taiyuan, China
As a foreigner in China you'll always a) attract attention and b) draw a certain special treatment, especially if you deviate from the typical tourist destinations. In Taiyuan, capital of Shanxi Province, this has reached a new peak.
Returning to Beijing from Pingyao I had to change trains here and had about two hours to spare. So I decided to have dinner. I had been told about several local dishes I wanted to try. The problem was that in my limited time I could only see some foreign and Chinese fast food chains around the station. I ventured further, still without success until I was attracted by a pleasant looking place. "巴西" it said above the entrance. This looked familiar but I could place it immediately. I went in. A very pretty, elegantly dressed waitress was immediately at my side. What did I want to eat? She showed me a buffet (that didn't look Chinese at all). I asked her for Shanxi dishes. She apologised. They didn't have any. I inquired where I might eat Shanxi food. She called the manager. I was now the centre of attention. The manager came and I repeated my question. She said they only served "ba xi" dishes. Then it finally clicked. I had walked into a Brazilian restaurant. The manager explained that they had no Shanxi dishes but there was a restaurant around the corner that did. She even sent the cute waitress that had greeted me to show me the way.
The restaurant in question only had a single table occupied with a group of men eating and boozing. The girl explained the situation and I immediately became the V.I.P. The boss himself came up to greet me, sat me at a table, brought the menu, advised me which dishes were typical of the part of the province. Then he sent his staff to get me a bowl, chopsticks, tea. Of course, he didn't fail to ask me where I was from. I mentioned I needed to catch a train in less than an hour. I was really beginning to worry. No problem, he assured me. When I had made my choice (soup with knife-cut noodles and meat plus a bowl of deep-fried, shredded potatoes with vinegar) he went to the kitchen and shouted: "Hey, here's a German friend who wants to try Shanxi dishes. Make him some ..." At this the chefs also curiously stuck out their heads. Food was ready in record time, the boss proudly served it himself. Then he hovered next to me watching my reaction. I assured him it was very tasty (and it was). Then I tried to look like I was fully absorbed with the task of eating. I had run out of casual conversation topics that my language skills could handle. Fortunately, he knew that I needed to rush, so he left me to my food. Otherwise, this might have been a really awkward situation. In the meantime he tended to the other table answering questions about me and fulfilling the demand for more high percentage alcohol.
When I finally left and rushed back to the train station I was full and happy and had paid an impressively low price. Another one for the category Only In China.
As a foreigner in China you'll always a) attract attention and b) draw a certain special treatment, especially if you deviate from the typical tourist destinations. In Taiyuan, capital of Shanxi Province, this has reached a new peak.
Returning to Beijing from Pingyao I had to change trains here and had about two hours to spare. So I decided to have dinner. I had been told about several local dishes I wanted to try. The problem was that in my limited time I could only see some foreign and Chinese fast food chains around the station. I ventured further, still without success until I was attracted by a pleasant looking place. "巴西" it said above the entrance. This looked familiar but I could place it immediately. I went in. A very pretty, elegantly dressed waitress was immediately at my side. What did I want to eat? She showed me a buffet (that didn't look Chinese at all). I asked her for Shanxi dishes. She apologised. They didn't have any. I inquired where I might eat Shanxi food. She called the manager. I was now the centre of attention. The manager came and I repeated my question. She said they only served "ba xi" dishes. Then it finally clicked. I had walked into a Brazilian restaurant. The manager explained that they had no Shanxi dishes but there was a restaurant around the corner that did. She even sent the cute waitress that had greeted me to show me the way.
The restaurant in question only had a single table occupied with a group of men eating and boozing. The girl explained the situation and I immediately became the V.I.P. The boss himself came up to greet me, sat me at a table, brought the menu, advised me which dishes were typical of the part of the province. Then he sent his staff to get me a bowl, chopsticks, tea. Of course, he didn't fail to ask me where I was from. I mentioned I needed to catch a train in less than an hour. I was really beginning to worry. No problem, he assured me. When I had made my choice (soup with knife-cut noodles and meat plus a bowl of deep-fried, shredded potatoes with vinegar) he went to the kitchen and shouted: "Hey, here's a German friend who wants to try Shanxi dishes. Make him some ..." At this the chefs also curiously stuck out their heads. Food was ready in record time, the boss proudly served it himself. Then he hovered next to me watching my reaction. I assured him it was very tasty (and it was). Then I tried to look like I was fully absorbed with the task of eating. I had run out of casual conversation topics that my language skills could handle. Fortunately, he knew that I needed to rush, so he left me to my food. Otherwise, this might have been a really awkward situation. In the meantime he tended to the other table answering questions about me and fulfilling the demand for more high percentage alcohol.
When I finally left and rushed back to the train station I was full and happy and had paid an impressively low price. Another one for the category Only In China.
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