Weekend Outing

Something happened on April 5th, 2007. I don’t know if it was the fact that it felt like spring had finally arrived (in the afternoon anyway) or just the fact that I’d been here a month, but I felt like I was accepted by my Chinese colleagues. People were asking me for my personal e-mail address. Others wanted to laugh with me. Some had questions about America. Judy offered me the equivalent of Chinese peanut brittle and Nick gave me some of his tangerine. It just felt like a veil had been lifted and after monitoring me to see what I was about, I was deemed acceptable. It was a really nice feeling.

I discovered that I ride the bus with one of my Chinese co-workers. Her name is pronounced like Lee-JHA. She’s a very beautiful, graceful young woman. She seems so gentle. Her English name is Zoë Leigh. Wouldn’t you love to slap the English teacher who assigned her that one? I didn’t realize that she spoke some English until we got off the bus. I’d seen her sitting on the bus and I waited for her. I was gearing up to say “Ni hao” when she jumped off and said “Hello.” She works in the scheduling department and because of all the time zones we deal with, works extremely long hours. I don’t even know how long she has to stay at night, but I feel for her. I think we’re going to try to meet up for a language exchange.

Nick asked me to go to lunch with him on Friday. He wanted to take me to “the” place for dumplings, although he kept calling them balls. It was a very small little place with maybe six tables. There was absolutely no room to sit. He seemed surprised by this. I told him that I suspected the warmer weather was encouraging people to get out of the office. We tried going elsewhere, but everything was full. We went back to the restaurant and it seemed like he was telling off these two women sitting at a table. Then he turned to me: “You sit down here. I go get the food.” Great, I have to sit at the table with the women he just yelled at! I sat down and just bowed my head while they gobbled their dumplings and soup.

Looking around the restaurant, I realized this was the first truly “local” place I’d been – and it was filthy. The floors hadn’t been mopped in weeks. A man at the table next to me took a glass with some liquid in it and just dumped it on the floor. Ugh. Nick was back soon enough. He got us each a packet of dumplings and an odd soup. The dumplings weren’t bad really; they tasted a lot better when I added vinegar to them. Nick was insistent that this was “real” Chinese food. I asked him how much the food cost and he said both of our meals came to 10RMB – about $1USD. You can really eat cheap when you go to a place like this. Nick continued to praise my chopstick skills. “You a fast learner, Flan.” He’s also impressed that I’m able to remember some of the Mandarin words. He had taught me the words for “left” and “right” the day before and quizzed me on them. He was thrilled when I remembered. I think it’s just the fact that I want to learn; it makes them more comfortable. Nick always asks me if I like the food and when I respond in the affirmative, he always smiles and says, “That makes me so happy.”

I had asked Nick what he likes to eat for dinner and he said “anything.” I believe it. Then he indicated that there was some fruit that he doesn’t like to eat. He said it “stinks.” I couldn’t figure out what he was talking about. On the way back to the office, we stopped into a corner market. Some of our colleagues, including Tan Lu and Leejha, were in there, along with two of our other female co-workers. They thought it was really cute that we were in there. Tan Lu wanted to know what it was that I needed help buying. I told her I was just there to see some fruit that Nick had told me about. They followed us into the fruits and vegetable area, when he excitedly pointed it out. I still don’t know what it was. It’s almost looked like a flat pineapple. It had that kind of texture. I announced that we didn’t have those in the United States. The girls started laughing. I told Nick that it must mean that Americans don’t like it either![1] On the walk back to the office, three of the women linked arms and seemed as though they had not a care in the world. It’s extremely common here to see women holding each other as they walk down the street.

When you speak to a Chinese person who knows limited English you have to use the “correct” words. Most of them haven’t been to the States and they don’t know our slang. One time I went with Scarlet to Pizza Hut and she asked the waitress if the green tea cheesecake was “tasty.” The woman had never heard this word. She modified, “Is it delicious?” That, the woman understood. Nick wanted to know how to respond when an American asks him “How are you?” He said that in school his textbooks always said to say, “Fine, thank you.” I told him that was correct, but there were a number of other responses he could give and that Americans would give in response to the question: “Very well,” “great,” “good.” I also said that a number of Americans might give the response “hanging in there.” I tried explaining what it meant (not great, but could be worse). I also told him that when I worked in DC there was a Capitol Hill police officer who would always respond to the question, “I’m FANTASTIC, Mr. Loveland, how are you?” I just wanted him to know that there are a lot of different responses. It can be quite jarring when you’ve been trained to only hear one response and then get a variety. I think he’s going to stick with “Very well.”

I’ve learned some lessons about the whole concept of “face.” It’s a rather complicated concept but basically you can’t embarrass the other person. No matter what the situation, you can’t expose them. It makes the office interesting, to say the least! I felt really bad because I unintentionally caused Judy to lose face, and I didn’t mean to. Judy and I were working on a project together and it required a significant amount of writing. I knew that it was something I could churn out in about an hour and then let the refining process begin. To me, it’s just important to have a starting place. I told Judy that I would write the first draft. No such luck. She wanted to write the first draft and have me “perfect” it. Oh boy. She e-mailed me the document after four days. The writing wasn’t as bad as I would have suspected. The real problem was the formatting. This was an extremely important document and it needed to look professional. I essentially rewrote the entire thing and e-mailed it back to her. I was prepared to let her know that I was pleased with her original writing and I had really just made “formatting” changes. No such luck. She knew what I’d done, and I’d embarrassed her. I even encouraged her to e-mail it to the boss. She wouldn’t do it. Our relations were frosty the next few days and that was when it occurred to me that I’d made her lose face. The only real problem is I don’t know how to avoid this in the future. Do I placate her and pretend it’s OK? Do I ask her to sit next to me while we edit (i.e. rewrite) it together? I haven’t figured that out yet. At least she gave me peanut brittle today!

The other person I work a lot with is Sally. I haven’t really written about Sally because I hadn’t been able to sum her up. Until today. Wanna a great visual and “feel” for Sally? Remember Ally Sheedy’s character in The Breakfast Club? The really meek and scared young woman in detention? Sally is the Chinese version. She even has that Ally Sheedy haircut. She wouldn’t talk to me the first few weeks. If I walked in her path she would avert her eyes. She’s most comfortable when she’s facing her computer. She also loves doing these long whines. I wonder if we sound that weird? I feel really bad for her. Now that we’ve teamed up on some projects, it’s much better. I know she spent some time in Australia working on her English and it’s pretty good. She just gets really nervous. I do like her though and she’s funny. She was complaining about someone in the office and I told her the word that we would call them in English in America. She got really embarrassed and turned back to her computer. Totally different senses of humor.

One of the most frustrating things that can happen is when you hear a word being constantly used in conversations and then when you ask them what that word means, they have NO clue what you’re talking about. So much of it is based on getting the tones right. For example, there’s a word that’s used on the bus as we approach the stops that I want to know. I’ve also heard the word “tucci” but when I ask they look at me like I’m crazy. I’m probably only hearing a portion of the word. Like if a Chinese speaker only heard the “lat” in collateral and then asked you what “lat” meant. You’d probably tell them it means not being somewhere on time! One little mystery was solved. Some people always say “nega.” I hear it spread out through dozens of ordinary conversations. I finally asked Judy about it. She said it’s a word you use in a conversation when you’re trying to think of the next thing to say. I guess it’s like us using “uh” or “Ok.”

I went to an African restaurant with Scarlet Friday night. She'd mentioned that she'd really developed an affinity for Ethiopian food while living in DC. The Adams Morgan area has a bunch of international places and she enjoyed going there. We each cabbed over to the "Star Bar Street" where the African restaurant was located. It was a cute, although quiet, area past Salintun. Fortunately none of the South African drug lords here! The restaurant had a really fun, jovial atmosphere. It was a very international crowd. There were performances on stage, including a man walking through the audience on stilts. While it was a fun place, I don't think it was really authentic African. The band was playing American songs and the whole atmosphere seemed like the Disneyland version of Africa. They even had a mixed drink called the Hakuna Matata. Scarlet always tries ordering bar drinks without the alcohol and our server was very honest when he said it wouldn't be good without the liquor. I read that it's never a good idea to order mixed drinks in China because they water down the alcohol and if you order a specific brand, say Absolut Vodka, they'll give you a cheaper brand. This is probably one reason why beer is so popular here.

Saturday was the morning that we left for our retreat. I woke up and was sick as a dog. See previous reference to yesterday's lunch with Nick for a reason as to why. I took some prescription medication I received in the States and felt better within a couple of hours. I met my co-workers at the office at 10 am. It was the first real spring day we'd had. It was really beautiful and I was so glad that we had chosen today for the outing. Nick immediately took possession of me and located where we would sit on the bus. The bus was actually comfortable, although there was no bathroom. They played really cheesy movies on the bus, including a 1970s movie about a literal killer whale. I really got a feel for the enormity of Beijing as we traveled on the bus. The traffic wasn't bad and it must have taken two hours to just make it out of the city. For some reason the tour guide had his microphone on the echo feature so everything came across really weird.

Nick and I had a wonderful conversation on the way out of Beijing. He brought one of his electronic translation devices in case we ran into words that we didn't understand. It helped a lot! Nick served in the military for two years and I think he's now in some sort of reserve status. He told me he's not allowed to visit foreign countries while he's in this status because the government is concerned that soldiers could be recruited for spying. I typed the word "Buddhist" in his device and asked him if he was one. He said that when you join the military you have to devote yourself to Communism and you can't have a religion.

He had a question about America but told me I didn't have to answer it if I wasn't comfortable. He wanted to know what America thinks about China and Taiwan. I told him that America does officially recognize Taiwan as a part of China. At the same time, America will not idly allow China to attack Taiwan and that's why we've been selling missiles to Taiwan, so they can defend themselves. I said that America hopes that China and Taiwan can diplomatically resolve their differences and that there is no aggressive action. He had his mouth open for most of this and didn't respond.

When we got out into the country everything just felt different. The skies were so blue out here. Funny what pollution does, isn't it? The area felt like the rural areas of any rural area. There were people selling fruit by the road and commingling near the path to chat about the day's events. Like all country people, they had that rough-hewn, tough look. They could handle just about any challenge put in their path.

We went to a restaurant for lunch out in the country. It looked like the kind of place that was accustomed to having tour buses. I have to say that I don't think there's anything more stressful than eating a meal with Chinese people. They go into a different zone when it comes to food. First of all, they eat incredibly fast. You just see tons of chopsticks flying about. They are unnecessarily messy; in their haste juices spill all around. It gets really confusing when they start offering toasts to each other. You can barely get food into your mouth before you're standing up, touching everyone's glass. Eating with Chinese people is draining!

Some of the girls at the table were looking at me and giggling. Nick said they wanted to know if I knew how to use chopsticks. I guess they were disappointed that I did. The food itself was decent. There was nothing at this meal that I particularly loved. There were these gross, thick yellow noodles, shaped like spaghetti. I asked someone what they were and they said it was noodles made out of potatoes. Yummy. Everyone at the table kept asking me if I liked the food. This would become a theme throughout the weekend - do you like the food and are you happy? No matter the truth, it's best to smile and nod.

Following lunch it was time to go to the "hot springs." I guess "hot springs" is code for hot tubs. It was basically a YMCA-type place with various pools and hot tubs. You know the comforting chlorine smell that hits your nostrils at all American swimming pools? Yeah, well it wasn't here. Judy, who didn't come to the retreat, asked me Monday if it was "sanitary." I shook my head and said "No." I did just enough swimming to not be rude. I actually got kicked out of one of the pools because I wasn't wearing a cap. Aww, darn. I only dipped my legs in the hot springs. The water was grey. How refreshing! I spent most of my time in the sauna. I've always loved saunas and I thought that sweating out the toxins I've absorbed the past month was probably a good idea.

Nick and I finished early and walked around the surrounding community. He taught me so many things about Chinese culture. I can't really explain them all here. But if we saw a traditional Chinese sculpture he would explain to me the symbolism. So many things I hadn't even thought about. He loves starting off these lessons with, "In China...."

I was understandably exhausted after the "hot springs" adventure (funny, I thought it was supposed to be rejuvenating) and I slept most of the way to our next stop. We were spending the night at a farmer's home, where they would prepare a meal for us. When I woke up, we were in the mountains, not that far from the Great Wall. The landscape of the mountains reminded me of the Sandia's, minus the cherry blossom trees that were scattered about. It was dusk now and just really beautiful.

We were shown to our rooms. Nick and I had to share a concrete bed with two other men, including the driver. I guess that in the winter you actually light a fire in the furnace underneath the concrete. Sounds safe! Since it was warming up, there would be no need to light a fire. Nick and I did some more exploring before dinner. Everyone in this little hamlet had dogs. We saw one German Shepard that had recently given birth. The vast majority of the dogs are these little Pekinese that ramble up to their doorways and look at you like, "City slickers."

The meal in the evening was better than lunch. Tons of sweet potatoes! They were also trying to explain the concept of "corn bread" to me. Thanks, but I know it quite well. I didn't realize that I was getting to sit at the senior table until this meal. Our table was the only one with glass bowls, versus the plastic everyone else got. As my guide, Nick got to sit with me which I think meant a lot to him; he ordinarily wouldn't have qualified for this table. One of the most compassionate things he did was tell the others in Chinese that he was going to take me outside after we were done because I wouldn't be able to enjoy the conversation. He sacrificed his own "status" in order to make me more comfortable. It was really a selfless gesture.

When we walked around outside it was now dark. It was the first time I've been in China where I could actually see stars. He told me that he knew the names of all the constellations, but not in English. I told him that was OK and I wanted to know the Chinese names. Walking along the road with them, I thought, "I can't believe I'm here." It felt like a dream.

Nick told me that after everyone finished their meals there would some "programs." Mhhm...I didn't like the sound of that. I should mention that I was bitterly tired by this point. I'd been sick in the morning, swam, stuck in a bus, and was just exhausted. I think I was also dehydrated. I really just wanted to go to bed. But what kind of message would I be sending about Americans? They started lighting the fireworks. The type of fireworks that they use isn’t the type that we are allowed to buy in the States. No, these are the kind that would be used at a professional, staged show like at a military base on Independence Day. It seemed so irresponsible that they were lighting these huge fireworks in the middle of the country. Yet, for all the potential problems that I always see here, none ever come to fruition. Everything works out for them. Whether it be the crazy driving (where I've yet to see a single accident - this in a country with no liquor laws), or lighting these gigantic fireworks, everything just falls into place. Maybe we’re the ones who don't have it right.

They lit a campfire in the courtyard outside. I was seeing really for the first time a bunch of people who I work with but don't deal with on a daily basis. I'm basically limited to the people with the better command of English: Tan Lu, Nick, Judy, Sally, and Phoenix. Seeing everyone together, you could ascertain what kind of personality they are. "This guy is the ham, this woman is the gossip." It's funny to see that they also fit into these pre-determined formulas as well.

The next few hours were kind of a haze. They sing and dance a lot. They do really bad karaoke. They play poker (but not for money; it's against the law to gamble). They smoke. They eat sweet potatoes by the fire (I'm not gonna complain about that one). The impressions that I had from this orgy of fun was that they are a really innocent people and totally non-judgmental. Everything they do is in good faith and they wouldn't intentionally judge someone. It kind of makes you relax.

I've never understood the concept that in order to make the outsider more comfortable, we will embarrass them. Well one of the Chinese men who doesn't speak a lick of English decided he was going to make me more comfortable. Great. It was at one point when we were all in a circle around the campfire. He summoned for me to come forth. I pretended not to notice but it wasn't going to work. I was very confused. I think he was trying to get me to pose in Chinese opera stances. Everyone was really laughing. Glad I could provide some entertainment. I think the driver got really upset about it and told him off.

At yet another point, the man had the microphone and again summoned me. It was actually funny because he sounded like an auctioneer and he yelled "Glam!" That was my cue. I turned to Phoenix and was like, "What's going on?" "He wants you to sing a song." WHAT?! He had this really self-satisfied smile. I took the microphone and turned to the crowd. I basically had to prove myself here. If I didn't do it, what would it mean? Would they interpret it that I'm better than them? I had no choice. I needed to sing something though that could link us. I didn't learn any Chinese songs before coming over and I also didn't think "SexyBack" or "Vogue" would play real well. I sang the only thing I could think of: The ABC song. "Now I know my ABC's, next time won't you sing with me?" All the people under 30 started clapping real excitedly when I sang it. They've all had English teachers who taught them the song. I think it was the best choice.

My tormentor then wanted me to sing another song. I flat out said "No." He started laughing and was mocking me, "No? No?" I didn't care if I was making him lose face. He said something in Chinese and handed me the microphone again. I turned to Nick. "He wants you to say something from your heart." Oh God. I'd almost prefer to croon another tune, honestly. I took the mic again and faced the audience. "It means a lot to me to be here with you all tonight. I'm learning so much about China and its people and its customs and its culture. I have great respect for all of you, and everyone has been so nice to me. Even if you can't speak English I've learned a lot by just watching you. Thank you all so much." Everyone started clapping. That would be my last performance of the evening.

My tormentor came up to me later when I was around Nick. He said something to me and put his hand on his heart. Nick said, "He said that you have a very good heart." I thought that was really nice. I decided to be nice and asked to take a photo with him. While we were getting things ready, the driver saw that we were about to take a picture and he ran over and wanted in too. It was kind of funny. I felt like a celebrity. One girl whom I don't know at all demanded a photograph with me. She'll probably show it to her family in rural China.

The other thing that surprised me about this outing was how many of my co-workers can speak English! Like I said, if they're under 30 they had English instruction for most of their student lives. They are terrified to speak it though because they've never really been around native English speakers. All of their instruction came from textbooks and interaction with fellow students. What's sad though is that most of them are quite well-spoken. I met two young women who have virtually no accent at all. They kept saying, "But I don't speak English well." They were stunned when I told them that they do.

One small girl came over to and struck up a conversation. She doesn't look Han Chinese; she must be another ethnicity. She told me she taught herself English while working in Pakistan. She was so cute because she was short and really scrappy looking. She asked me very seriously, "Are you happy?" I smiled and said yes. She wasn't going to let me off the hook. "How can you be happy? You're alone. The only person who speaks English to you is that boy." Wow! Well you have me there. I told her that while I can't fully participate, I'm learning so much just by being an observer. She seemed satisfied with this. She told me her English name was "Hope." Another girl named Snow (because that's the season she was born in), started laughing and told her that she probably doesn't even know what her name means in English. Hope looked down at her feet and said, "I think it means something very nice." Yes, it does.

Nick had left me earlier to go play poker and told me that when I was ready to go to bed I was to tell him. I wandered into one of the rooms where people were singing karaoke and wanted to shoot myself. One woman felt compelled to tell me that she'd just had "four beers." Congrats. I finally asked Sally to take me to Nick. We went in and I told him that he didn't have to leave the game; I was just going to go back to the room and go to sleep. Nick insisted on walking me back. Once I was tucked in, he asked me if I minded if he went back to the game. I told him not at all. I slept so soundly that night.

Everyone was up and ready the next morning before I even emerged. Nick and I walked around down by a stream. This little grey Pekinese, which had been born white, looked at us as we crossed. I had just asked Nick if he had slept well and he said yes. Looking at the dog he said, "I don't think he slept well last night." I responded, "Nick, that dog has never slept well."

After breakfast we hopped back onto the bus and we headed to the "Silver-Clad Pagoda Forest." It was at one time some type of sacred Buddhist outpost. There were various towers and their explanations. The area was gorgeous; lots of natural waterfalls. I didn't realize it at the time, but we were going to be walking up the entire mountain. Gee, wish I'd gotten bottled water! About six of us clumped together and headed up the stairs. Most of the women weren't wearing outdoor gear. I stuck pretty close to a young woman named Apple (Gwyneth Paltrow would be SO proud) during the hike up. The poor thing was wearing heels! At one point, this idiot in our group decided that he wasn't going to take the stairs, it would be better to just scale the mountain. So unsafe, I thought, as everyone in my group started following him. I couldn't believe I was scaling a mountain when a staircase was about two feet away. Nick told me I was to go up first and then "help the others." Ooh-kay.

We managed to get up without injuries. One of the women in my group kept asking us to eat some prunes she'd brought. I'd have eaten anything. She also brought some dried-out tomatoes which were now "gummy." I thought it was strange but they tasted good! At one point we had to clear off the stairs because these laborers were coming down with a cot of some sort. I thought someone had been injured. It turns out they were transporting some kind of antique statue from the top of the mountain. Something tells me this wasn't an "official" excavation!

We FINALLY made it to the top of the mountain. All I can say about Chinese people is that while they don't look athletic, they are strong. They managed to do this climb with nary a whimper or forced breathing. They could have been walking in an air-conditioned mall. The views from the top of the mountain were amazing. I could see the Great Wall and realized that we were enveloped in the mountains. Please excuse the pun, but it really was breathtaking. The walk down was of course easier but just as treacherous. I should mention that these weren't regular stairs. They were stone steps and some were extremely steep. It was flat-out dangerous.

I talked to Apple on the way down. She's a really sweet girl from Harbin. I realized why so many people from Harbin are in Beijing. They speak the exact same dialect and accent as people in Beijing. This means that they are able to easily adapt in the city. She wants to take me to Harbin to meet her family and show me the street where the foreigners like to hang out. She's also insistent that she can teach me Mandarin. We're going to do something "fun" this weekend. I told her I didn't have any ideas and she said she wants to eat "boiled, instant mutton." Note to self: always have an idea ready.

Because most Chinese were taught English by people from the UK and Australia there are certain words they use that, while appropriate, aren't part of our daily vernacular. For example, it's always "rubbish" instead of trash. The one that always gets me is their use of "clever." I think we've given that word a negative connotation in the U.S. I always think of clever as being "you think you're so smart, don't you?" When Nick and I were walking around and he'd ask me a question like, "What is this used for?" And I would guess correctly, he'd laugh and say I was "clever." He also thinks I'm clever because I can understand what he's trying to tell me the vast majority of the time even when he's not sure what it is he's saying. He lamented, "Glen, when I studied English in school I thought it was so easy. Talking to you I realize it's hard!"

After the mountain adventure, we had lunch in another village. This was the best meal yet. Among the food items was omelets! It was kind of funny to see them served for lunch. They also served sliced tomatoes with sugar sprinkled on top. While tomatoes are a fruit, I feel that we've turned them into a de facto vegetable in the States. We prefer to highlight their acidic quality. Eating them with sugar I realized that they are really sweet!

The bus ride back was uneventful. I was happy to have had the opportunity to experience all these things. I really do feel more of a connection with my coworkers now.

On Monday I asked Judy why she didn't go and she said she didn't want people to see her in her bathing suit. Can't fault her for that, I guess. Judy is about 28 or 29 and she's obsessed with age. We were alone in the office a lot and she wanted to keep talking about it. She says that she's getting wrinkles on her face from staring at the computer all day. She asked me how old I was and when I said 31 she said I looked younger. Then studying me further, "But you have wrinkles near your eyes." I told her these were called "crow's feet." She asked that I write it down for her and she studied it very closely. I explained what it meant. She studies herself in the mirror a lot and I also found her absently looking out the window. She's really somewhere else.

She's extremely concerned that no one is going to marry her. She said she dated a Chinese man in college but he didn't want to marry her. I asked her what the normal dating procedure would be in China. She said that typically the man approaches the woman, but that since she's an extrovert, she has no problem approaching men. I can tell she has a secret crush on our boss. She also told me that Tom Cruise and Bill Clinton are "very handsome." I told her that with China's female shortage it seemed to me as though the woman should hold all the cards on relationships here. She didn't really explain but said it's not the case. I guess the law of supply and demand doesn't apply in China.


[1] A few days later the New York Times ran an article about the fruit, which I found out is called “durian.” The article was about scientist who has invented a “no-smell” durian, which is quite controversial. Here’s a section of that article: “The durian, a spiky fruit native to Southeast Asia, has been variously described by its detractors as smelling like garbage, moldy cheese or rotting fish. It is banned from many hotels, airlines and the Singapore subway. But durian lovers are convinced that like fine French cheeses, the worse the smell, the better the taste. Under the durian's hardy shell are sections of pale yellow flesh with a consistency that can be as soft and oozy as custard and a flavor that is nutty and sweet with hints of vanilla and an occasional bitter bite. ‘To anyone who doesn't like durian it smells like a bunch of dead cats," said Bob Halliday, a food writer in Bangkok. "But as you get to appreciate durian, the smell is not offensive at all. It's attractive. It makes you drool like a mastiff.’"