Adventures in Chinglish: Potluck Edition

In February we celebrated Sam's birthday with a potluck.

This thing is mostly "frosting"-product and very little bland white cake.

The assortment of dishes and carriers people brought food in resulted in a few excellent Chinglish specimens.

The back of a plate.

"fetus chrysanthemum tea"

Oh those cheeky rabbits!

I had a lovely birthday!

Tiffany and I went to dinner, and then met Scott and our friend Victoria at Tino's (the Swiss restaurant / aka the only true Western restaurant in the city) for drinks and dessert.


Victoria gave me some lotion from The Body Shop, imported via a family member of hers in England, since The Body Shop isn't in China. I like to use this stuff after I wash the dishes, which I have to do all the time over here, so it was a GREAT gift!

 Washing the dishes is my least favorite chore, so of course I end up in a country with no dishwashers.

Tiffany and Scott gave me an apron (I desperately wanted one, although I never told her that) and Goldfish crackers!

When I saw the fabric, I was all, 'Oh my god I LOVE it.' To which Tiffany responded, appropriately, 'You don't even know what it is yet!'

The best part of the night was not even related to my birthday. It was a receipt. Before the waitress left, she diagrammed our table and what we all owed. See below.

Counter-clockwise from the top we have: "red" - me; "Chinese" - Victoria; "Tino" - Tino; "man" - Scott; and nobody - Tiffany.

It might interest you to know that in Mandarin, there is no specific word for my hair color. It gets lumped in with blonde and is simply called "huang2" / "yellow." Students are always really perplexed when I say, 'In English, the word we use for my hair color is "red."'

Adventures in Chinglish: Do not drink allowed

The rules are as follows: 

This shop decline play cards = "If you're thinking you and your bum friends can camp out in here and play cards all day, you've got another thing coming. Go back to your own shop and do it."

Do not drink allowed = "Don't bring your own drinks into this beverage establishment." 

Bringing his own food please secretly edible = "If you're going to bring food, hide it from the other customers, okay?"

Beeswax Not Yours, Inc.

It is not uncommon for Chinese people to be all up in other people's business. They ask impolite questions, they presume to judge, and they give unwanted advice. Of course, this occurs in the States too, but it's noticeably more frequent here. People might comment on your acne, and recommend you do something about it. Others may comment on your size, and ask if you've ever considered losing weight. I have more than one Chinese friend who will back me up on how unpleasant a cultural norm it is.

Anita took me to get our nails done today. Here is another photo of her, because she doesn't like that first one:

So happy!

While we were waiting for the polish to dry, one of the nail technicians [seriously, that's what the interwebs says the job title is] came over and started talking to Anita in... not an aggressive manner exactly, but she was being pretty intense and her demeanor was not at all positive. I asked what was up, and Anita explained that the girl was lecturing her for wearing nail polish while breastfeeding. Then girl asked if Anita was living with her husband's parents. Anita told her it was none of her business, to which the girl responded by completely ignoring Anita's put-off, and asking if 'Anita's mother-in-law was going to be okay with Anita breastfeeding with nail polish on her fingers?'

[sigh]

Flying Kites on Easter

On Sunday, I went with Tiffany and her students to a nearby park to fly kites in celebration of Easter.

 if you don't know of it, I recommend taking 8 minutes of your wasted time to look up Eadweard Muybridge and his photos of movement / Sallie Gardner at a Gallop

one of the college students

 

 

 

 I love how happy these boys look :)

 the wonky perspective on this photo is kind of interesting to me

searching for four-leaf clovers

 some random lady; I just like this photo

 

 And I quote: "I don't like to take my picture."

 

This guy was adorable! I really wish my photos of him and his kite were better!

清明节 / Qing Ming Jie / Tomb Sweeping Day

There's a park a block from my house with a tetanus-promising amusement rides, a concrete zoo that several of my students described as a prison, a dubious bonsai garden, a monument to the martyrs of the Chinese revolution, and the tombs/graves of said soldiers.

On Monday my friend Stuart and I paid the ¥3 to get in and visit the tombs for Qing Ming Festival, a memorial day for the dead. ["Qing Ming" (which is pronounced /ching-ming/) translates to "Tomb Sweeping Day."]

First we saw the tall bonsai trees:

Then we went to the grave site:

Those crazy round things are tombs.

To honor the dead, they burn metaphorical money or other things the dead might appreciate in the afterlife. Fake money is available, but it doesn't have Mao's face on it because burning his face is illegal.

 Don't you know a half-burnt bill won't get to heaven? Way to screw your ancestors...

I was taking photos (while Stuart hovered nearby and pretended not to know the tacky tourist laowai) of a family burning paper in the distance:

Then this guy knelt down right in front of me and started rolling up paper that Stuart says represents money.

Afterward, I went and played cards with other foreigners until I threw up, an activity that, thanks to my health-code-pampered guts, is not at all abnormal :P .

Korean Chopsticks Are Superior

This is Anita. Anita gives Chinese lessons to the foreigners in Yancheng. Her English is excellent, and she speaks Korean, as well. She's also an unmarried mother, due to have a baby in two weeks. Today she told me that being an unmarried mother is not exactly legal. (I didn't ask, but I got the impression that she might have to pay fines [re: paying off the government to leave her alone].)

We went to a real Korean restaurant she enjoys, and I had a chance to use Korean chopsticks: they're thinner and a little shorter than Chinese chopsticks, taper significantly at the tips, and are made of metal. All the foreigners complain about how hard they are to use, so I was a bit concerned, but my fears---and their complaints---were unfounded. The Koreans TOTALLY know what they're doing! My biggest problem with chopsticks is that I can't get a good grip on them. Ever! The wooden ones provide more surface resistance than the plastic ones, but either way, they're always slipping in my fingers, making the tricky process of snatching food that much more exasperating. Metal, on the other hand, appears to provide friction between the chopsticks and my hand, because I all of a sudden I could eat without spilling all over myself, the table, and the floor. Also, a spoon is used with the chopsticks, which allows for even more control over my food.

The food was awesome!

In conclusion, I would like to state that I wish I could punch Korea in the face for rejecting me and thus denying me their wonderful food and more adequate eating utensils.

Happy Chinese New Year's Eve

 To celebrate the Year of the Rabbit, here's a scary advertising mascot with cocaine eyes!

Tonight I attended a celebratory party with my supervisor's family and Tiffany and Scott. We had small crabs, a delicious hell for me, since I adore crab but HATE HATE HATE getting messy/dirty. Normally I would have just passed, but the Chinese are REALLY pushy about food [that's a whole other post I'm going to have to write sometime soon].

Government Banquet Shenanigans

Last week I attended a banquet put on by the city government, for the resident foreigners.
 
The Chinese LOOOVE to toast. They do it all. the. time. at dinners. And since it's China, where everything is more complicated than necessary, there're conventions to follow, too.

• You're supposed to stand while toasting. 
• You're supposed to drink the entire glass in one swallow. [Their wine glasses are smaller than our standard ones.] 
• And, when two glasses touch, the rim of your glass should be lower than the other person's, as a sign of respect. Whenever I remember (which, honestly, isn't often), I've resorted to just grabbing onto the other person's wrist and holding it steady in order to get my rim lower and avoid a lowest-rim battle.

Behold! My goblet of yogurt! (Tiffany says most men begin banquets with yogurt, to prepare their guts for the alcohol onslaught. I was sick, and had been avoiding dairy, but I thought better safe than sorry.)

It was pretty uninteresting for a while: important officials, bad karaoke, unappetizing food, and no one to talk to (I ended up at the head table because of my supervisor's clout). But then it picked up real quick, thanks to a lot of baiju and a man I'll call Batman:

An awkward self-shot photo of me and the Chinese Caped Crusader. And a bored Indian guy.

In China, red wine is "red wine," our white wine is "yellow wine," and their "white wine" is this foul grain alcohol called baijiu (literally, "white wine"). Drinking baijiu is a popular and "masculine" activity. Because of this, a guy is applauded when he can hold his liquor, and isn't judged when he overdrinks. Seriously, they drink this stuff over business meetings, and they drink a lot of it.

So, back to the Dark Knight. I should have guessed something was up when he first approached me and convinced me to accept a glass of baijiu (I did want to try it) by insisting that I "drank it the last time we met, on a train in Shanghai." He came by again later to inquire, "I want to know why: Why don't you love me anymore?" Immediately after his third and more overt pass by my seat, Tiffany fetched me to "use the restroom," where she informed me, "That guy? Batman? He just propositioned me!! He is so smashed!" At that point it clicked. One right after the other he'd hit on us both, saying, "I think you and me should go out, and dance and drink. You need to call me, so we can go out together." Tiffany was able to laugh him off, but after losing out to her, I think he got a little more resolved, because he didn't let me do the same, and I ended up saying, "Oh totally!" :D . We left soon after that, but not before he made sure we had our photo opp, and definitely not before my coat zipper got stuck (pretty much over my crotch) and, like a good oblivious drunk guy, he went right in for it and came awful close to accidentally [seriously, he wasn't with it enough to do anything intentionally] molesting me as I stood there laughing uncontrollably.

But that wasn't the only highlight of the night. There was also this:

Pictured, center: the highest ranking official (present) and main host of the dinner

The comb-over reigns supreme among China's balding male population, and this man's was...just...there are no words. I never did get a good photo of it, but I tried. I took several surreptitious photos over the course of the evening, and finally, when I knew things were wrapping up, decided to go for broke and shoot straight on. This move earned the attention of an English-speaking neighbor, who innocently asked what I was doing. "Uh...oh, you know, taking photos of Mr. Government Guy to show my family back home."
That smooth response got me this:

"Well why don't you go up and I'll take a photo of both of you!" All because of his bad hairdo.

And that ridiculous Asian-photograph-stereotype peace-sign thing? I've totally caught myself mimicking that more than once :D .

White People Celebrating New Year's Eve in China

Chinese people don't really celebrate our New Year's Eve, so the only Chinese people at this bar The Foreigners ended up at were significant others. And Mr. Tang---I still haven't figured out how he fits into the group :) .

 

Scott hugging Mr. Tang after Mr. Tang insisted they were not "comrades," because he, like a good socially-conservative Chinese man, does not like comrades. The old school word for "comrade" is the same, modern word for homosexual :D .

 Tiffany and Scott are married; they're from Kansas. In an attempt to get me to smile nice, Scott suggested an image for me to think of that I did not appreciate.

 This was in a showcase in the bar. The price tag says ¥368.00, which is like, $55.00, so, you know, if the prices on the Louis Vuitton site are any indication, this is a definite knock-off.

You can drink on the streets in China! And as a passenger in the cars. I brought along a beer to get photo of me in a taxi:

I AM NOT DRUNK I AM NOT DRUNK I AM NOT DRUNK I AM NOT DRUNK

I feel it necessary to emphasize my sobriety because as we were trying to get a nice photo ["No, that won't work---I want Christmas card quality!"] we realized exactly how hard it is to take a close proximity picture of someone drinking that doesn't make them look sloshed.