Fan no 1
Fan no 2
Fan nos 3 and 4Given that Beijing has only just closed the doors on its Olympics, we thought that as Westerners we would be well catered for. It was becoming increasingly clear however, that no one spoke English here and the way of life was very different. I’m not just talking about the squat toilets. To be honest, the Chinese really have no need to concern themselves with the rest of the world, as walking down the street we were the only non ‘slitty eyed’ (as my PC Mum would say) for miles around, and so there would be no real need to learn another language. Add into the mix that their language consists of symbols that you can’t even hazard a guess at the meaning, and Nic and I had problems. It really is incredible being in a situation like that where you are just so unlike the rest of the population and everything is completely foreign to you.
Going out for food was fast becoming a real test. And we were getting hungry. We suddenly had a new found empathy for people who can’t read, struggling to even recognise a restaurant from a brothel as we couldn’t understand the signs outside. When we were successfully inside what we thought was a restaurant, we then had to mime that we wanted to see the menu, with the universal hand sign of opening and closing your hands. It worked a treat. But then the menu is all written in Chinese. How do you know if you’re ordering turtle or duck tongue? So we could only go to restaurants that had picture menus, the sign of someone who’s truly illiterate! Even then the choice of food was a bit dodgy, we were afraid of dog, but I would have gladly served up a plate of Fido rather the Alligator blood and sea cucumber that they had on offer. After making a ‘safe’ choice of meal we fancied a beer, which we asked for, and received a carton of milk. So Nic goes up to the bar and simply points at the beer she wants from the display cabinet. So she gets that beer! Yes, I mean that beer, as in the display copy. THEN we are faced with the trauma of learning how to use chopsticks, I seemed to learn faster than Nic though, who after battling with her egg fried rice gets offered a fork by one of the attentive waitresses! Eating out shouldn’t be this hard!
Being on the road for a year now we have made a name for ourselves. It was about time that someone had sat up and took notice. That ‘someone’, my friends, is the entire nation of China. It was difficult to walk down the street without being stared at by the locals, which I guess we put down to the fact that we looked different, and weren’t spitting in the street (common practice in China, nice). But it seemed much more than just a passing inquisitiveness, it was as if we were celebs. People actually stopped us and asked us to have our photos taken with them countless times. At one point a big group of girls got their cameras out and they all, one by one, wanted their photos with us! We’re like, ssssssssso big in China right now.
Going out for food was fast becoming a real test. And we were getting hungry. We suddenly had a new found empathy for people who can’t read, struggling to even recognise a restaurant from a brothel as we couldn’t understand the signs outside. When we were successfully inside what we thought was a restaurant, we then had to mime that we wanted to see the menu, with the universal hand sign of opening and closing your hands. It worked a treat. But then the menu is all written in Chinese. How do you know if you’re ordering turtle or duck tongue? So we could only go to restaurants that had picture menus, the sign of someone who’s truly illiterate! Even then the choice of food was a bit dodgy, we were afraid of dog, but I would have gladly served up a plate of Fido rather the Alligator blood and sea cucumber that they had on offer. After making a ‘safe’ choice of meal we fancied a beer, which we asked for, and received a carton of milk. So Nic goes up to the bar and simply points at the beer she wants from the display cabinet. So she gets that beer! Yes, I mean that beer, as in the display copy. THEN we are faced with the trauma of learning how to use chopsticks, I seemed to learn faster than Nic though, who after battling with her egg fried rice gets offered a fork by one of the attentive waitresses! Eating out shouldn’t be this hard!
Being on the road for a year now we have made a name for ourselves. It was about time that someone had sat up and took notice. That ‘someone’, my friends, is the entire nation of China. It was difficult to walk down the street without being stared at by the locals, which I guess we put down to the fact that we looked different, and weren’t spitting in the street (common practice in China, nice). But it seemed much more than just a passing inquisitiveness, it was as if we were celebs. People actually stopped us and asked us to have our photos taken with them countless times. At one point a big group of girls got their cameras out and they all, one by one, wanted their photos with us! We’re like, ssssssssso big in China right now.
1 comment:
I'm amazed you didn't mention the slit in any of this. I can only assume since the Olympics Beijing kids no longer piss and shit outdoors, a sad loss to the streets of China, it provided us with endless photo opportunities.
Rob
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