This may be the longest entry ever
Jul 9th, 2007 by Peter
6th July 2007 Yilan
Woke up at about 6am. I was thirsty as hell. C’s sister’s apartment has no air-condition, but I’m getting used to that. Well that is, I’m getting used to sweating like there’s no tomorrow and not caring about it.
Attacked the toilet again. As expected it was not a pretty sight and even though I was prepared for that to happen during my time here, I would rather have been without it. So I’m not complaining, but still crossing my fingers for a quick recovery. I’m not in pain or anything. I’m just hit by the culture shock of foreign bacteria flora.
We brushed teeth and packed our stuff together. Then we walked towards C’s parent’s home. Close by our goal, C stepsister waved to us from a 3-wheeled taxi as she raced by. 50m ahead the taxi stopped and she jumped out and invited us to follow her to her work. It’s a nearby school for 6-8 years old (my guess) where she was teaching. She showed us some drawings on the walls that she’d made for the children, as we followed her to her class. The children were, as always, stunned by my presence and didn’t want to say anything. Eventually one finally shouted out a “hello” and almost couldn’t stop again. The next generation of “hello’ers” are almost done.
It was some cute children and it was exciting to be inside a Chinese classroom. Unfortunately we were heading off again. I would have loved to stay and watch a class, but maybe some other day.
Then we headed to C’s parents home to get some breakfast. I’m not big on breakfast as it is. I never really eat that much. Just enough to get my stomach started. So I only had a bread, 2 tiny slices of sausages and some cold water. Cold water is my friend here. It was not that the selection weren’t there. There were freshly boiled eggs. Both duck (which is uncommon in Denmark) and chicken eggs. Then there were leftovers from yesterday. The small fried fish, goose liver and so on. None of it had been refrigerated since yesterday, which is not that appealing to me. But that’s just the way things work here and I’ll just have to get used to it. If Chinese don’t die by eating it, I probably won’t either.
Outside the public bath. Unfortunately I have no pictures of the public bath itself (and shooting pictures inside seemed a bit wrong, right?)
Then back to C’s parent’s home and wait for C’s oldest sister to arrive. A few minutes after she finally came, and there was a big shouting of joy. C is now finally reunited with all her family. C couldn’t be happier, and neither could I.
C asked me if it would be okay if she went shopping with her sister. I okayed it even though I feel I don’t have to. I don’t mind being alone without her. Some things are bound to go wrong, but so what. I know that and I’m not worried. C brought back some vegetables and some stuff that we might need at our new temporary home. An extra towel and a strange toilet seat cover that her sister brought especially for me. Actually I don’t dare using it now that my stomach is upset. It’s white, okay?
We stayed with C’s family that afternoon and relaxed a bit. No one can relax like the Chinese. If you’re tired you just sleep. Bedroom and living room is one and the same, so from time to time you’ll see a family member “trying to suck in some flies”. Actually I did the same and was told that I’m a big snorer. A compliment really as it shows that I was relaxing completely in my in-laws house.
Later I played a bit around with C’s sister’s boy. He is 5 years old, and a real little troublemaker. At first he was a bit afraid of me and didn’t respond to my motions, but suddenly he really warmed up. I think he spotted my laptop, which I had started to show C’s parents some of our pictures from Beijing. After a while he jumped on my lap and started fiddling about with my mouse. I was getting a bit worried and asked C if she could voice my concern to his parents. I was extremely nervous he’d delete some irreplaceable files there. He ended up playing some built-in child game, which I was fine with. I pretty quickly got boring, so he went back to harassing my desktop with the mouse. What to do? On one hand I think it’s cool to play with him. I also think it’s nice that he uses that single build-in game which fits his age. On the other hand, he has no clue what he’s doing and I would hate to offend his family by raising my voice and push him away. I was in a dilemma and it felt like ages before his parents finally saw the problem. I was probably just 2 minutes though. Anyway, status is that I can’t use my computer when this little rascal is around. Fortunately he is not around at the times which I have most time to write, so I’ll do fine. Just have to keep that in mind.
Lunch time with lots of different dishes again. Even though I already had tried explaining about my stomach problems to C’s family, her father insisted that I drank some grape wine. Tasted sweet and not that big a problem. It’s just had to be both polite and take care of a troublesome stomach at the same time. I’ll just have to stick to the thin red line.
After dinner C and I went walking. We needed to exchange some dollars. I brought a lot, since C weren’t sure we could use my Visa card here. Better safe than sorry, right? Everything went smooth, and we went to our new temporary home. C couldn’t remember where it was, so we had to call her sister and ask for directions. C tells me that the city has changed a lot since she left it about 10 years ago. She now only visits on holidays, and never stay here enough to catch up with the changes.
As we were getting closer to the apartment, my stomach suddenly were on the verge of exploding. Well – my butt were anyway. We walked as fast as we could and I reached the toilet just in time. Not a cool dump, but sure felt that way.
We went to a nearby shop to fill the refrigerator with cold water, some easy cooked noodle soups and other stuff we needed. Before this I told C that I felt we were rude to be eating at her parents all the time. I also think they may need some privacy. Some may think that I just need the space, but that’s not true. I really feel like an intruder if we have to do this every day. It takes a lot of work to be making special dishes just because we show up every day. Since we are not allowed to buy anything for them, it must be expensive having us eating and drinking there every day. Especially now that C’s father find it important that I drink some liquor or beer with my food. This also means that I am often behind filling up my water depots. The possibility of dehydration and a hereby induced spasm-scene have crossed my mind a few times.
In the afternoon we relaxed and C caught up with her sisters. Staying in Denmark for 1 year and 3 months without any possibility to go back, have been tough, and now her time has finally come.
Kindergarden dance seance with Christmas music (Jinglebells) Kindergarden dance seance with Christmas music (Jinglebells)
Kindergarden dance seance with Christmas music (Jinglebells)
One thing that really bugs me is that I have a horrible memory. I see so many things, big and small, but since I don’t carry pen and paper, many of these get lost. Yesterday I had no chance to write cues on my computer for later blogging, so good stuff are bound to be gone before I have a chance to secure it. So why don’t you carry a block of paper? Well – I decided not to. I am afraid that it may come off too aggressive if I start scribbling notes when I interact with people here. I know I wouldn’t like it if someone did that to me back in Denmark. So I have to rely on my miserable memory. On the other hand I have more time to enjoy, relax and observe while situations unfold.
Things change fast here and as we were getting close to dinner, I was told by C that her sisters invited all of us to a fine restaurant. C’s aunt, on her father’s side, would join us and so would her husband. We walked there, or at least we tried. I’m not that big on walking as I’m always in fear of an uncontrollable outburst of happiness from my “backside”. This also means that I’d rather not be too far away from C’s sister’s apartment for too long. She has a western toilet with excellent suction power (if I compare to the others I’ve tried here).
Fortunately the walking went fine. Except for the fact that no one could remember where the restaurant was located. We ended up grabbing some bicycle taxis, which C tells me is a Yilan specialty. 5 minutes later we arrived at what seemed like all the other restaurants here in Yilan. From outside the spot looked a bit worn. The red lanterns hanging outside have had better days and a complete restoration of the façade wouldn’t hurt either.
I would never have guessed how the inside looked from that sight. Inside it was a whole other story. This restaurant was not called Yilan’s best without a reason. The interior was kept in dark brown wood and everything was classy and the servants were plentiful. This is getting a repeating experience for me in my time here. I am always amazed about the contrast from exterior to interior here in Yilan. Not sure it’s a China thing, but guess so. I saw the same thing on a few occasions back in Beijing.
C’s aunt met us outside and had a good long look at me while I tried to smile the best I’ve learned. C had on earlier occasions told me that she was considered a psychic, so I wondered what went through her mind. Was I considered a bad seed or a god choice for C?
We stopped in the lobby and gazed at the tanks with fish, crabs, prawns, lobsters and sea cucumbers. Even though I shouldn’t be, it’s still strange for a Dane to see live specimens that you can pick out for eating. In a way I agree with C that this is fresher food, but on the other hand I feel sorry for some of the animals. I’ve seen many tanks with fish that were upside-down due to lack of air and space. In Denmark a similar packed tank with dying fish would instantly get animal rights activists up their chairs to change it. It would not be needed at this particular restaurant though. It was well kept and the fish had enough space and were in good shape.
We were guided to our room. This spot was a real family restaurant with many secluded rooms and one huge table with a big swivelling plate in the middle for food.
C’s sisters went and ordered food and according to C they discussed vividly what to buy that I would like. I am already standing out as picky since I’m not that big on fish. When offered I always accept, but may not dig in as deep as the other dishes afterwards. It has not gone unnoticed. I’m just wondering whether they think I’m too posh or just accept that I’m a laowai with different preferences and cultural background. I think the last is in play, but still can’t help but feeling somewhat of a burden.
I’m trying hard not to embarrass C or her family, but I’m bound to fall in at times. All I can do is try to minimize the damage by keeping open eyes, open mind and close contact with C.
C’s uncle arrived. He was a classy boss type of man. Big brown sunglasses and a commanding presence. He loudly said hello to me and smiled and I did the same. He instantly wanted to give me some water (I guess I looked as sweaty as I felt) and handed me a water bottle. I declined that very same offer from C just a few minutes before, but to be polite, I wanted to drink the water he offered. Turned off the cap and was inches from letting my lips meet plastic when C grabbed the bottle and whiffed it. “No!”: she shouted and looked angrily at her uncle. I whiffed the bottle too and was met by the classy Chinese rice liquor smell. C’s uncle laughed and so did I. It’s a classic greet-the-newcomer-to-the-family-stunt, and I fell for it. Fortunately C was sharp when I wasn’t. Thinking about it, I should have smelled the bottle myself, but how do you do that without being rude? I’m in for some tough situations here and that’s only because I look different. I knew that before we came.
C has during the entire trip here been overprotective. A few times it has been to the point of annoyance, but I have to agree that my well-being and “face” depend on her. She’s the best and I’m happy that she’s concerned.
The food was put on the table and I asked if I could shoot some pictures, which were “of course’d”. C’s sisters may already know me too well. The dishes brought in was all excellent and the meat was plenty. Who would have guessed that I was a carnivore from looking at my stature?
C’s uncle started offering liquor to all the men. I politely declined. Partly because C had told me to be careful (actually she said drink nothing at all), but also because I weren’t in the mood. The heat and my stomach problems have been accompanied by a slight headache. Those combined made it easy for me to agree with C. I was not to decide though. C’s Uncle insisted and C told me it would be polite to drink a little, so I did. “Ganbei’ing” was often and followed by a massive amount of attempts to pronounce the Danish way to say “cheers”. Pretty hard for the Chinese, but very funny to hear for me. C was getting anxious on my behalf and after emptying ½ a glass of liquor she asked me to stop. So I digged in to one of the many beers instead and hoped I would be left outside the toasting group with Mr. Toastolinni leading the pack. I weren’t.
I can drink pretty well. When I’m in shape, I can follow most regular guys in Denmark. I have one main problem. I can’t barf. Barfing, disgusting as it may seem, is required on some level when you chuck down beers. Add 2 and 2 and you’ll know that I can drink an acceptable amount of liquor, wine and similar, but beer has a natural limit due to its mass and consistence. The air expands and I’ll feel completely full after drinking 2 regular beers fast. It’s an annoyance. My stomach has had enough, but my head hasn’t. This is just hard to explain to other people who have no problem.
So as expected I wasn’t kept outside the toasting circle. Worse though, after the last liquor was finished (600ml) C’s uncle changed to beer and from “ganbei’ing” to “gan’ing”. For those who don’t know it, “Gan” means emptying the whole glass. I followed well in the start, and I could see C brothers-in-law feeling pretty worn. C’s uncle wouldn’t let me of the hook and started toasting me alone followed by some well-wishings. I also made the ultimate mistake of “slamming” my glass on his on a toast the wrong way. I accidentally let my glass touch his too high, and was corrected by C. I didn’t know about that habit, or well, I did, but I couldn’t remember it and had you asked me, I wouldn’t have been sure if it was a Chinese custom. Fortunately C told me it was ok, since I was a foreigner and didn’t know. No one felt offended.
By now my stomach was completely full. I’d put too much food and beer down the drain, so I told C to let her uncle in on my “condition”. “Tell him that I would love to toast, but can’t”: I said. He kind of accepted and laughed out loud, but insisted that I shared the last ½ of one beer with him. I was 100% sure I would explode if I drank it, so I politely gestured no thanks. Instead he then started pouring the beer to C’s father who declined too. The uncle wouldn’t take no for an answer and I had to tell C to let him know I would drink then. It was not fair that my father-in-law should be punished for my lack of stomach. I told C that I’d rather puke right there, than see my newly found father-in-law be forced to drink. Somehow this made C’s uncle agree to split the beer with C’s brothers-in-law instead who weren’t declining. Phew – close one.
C’s uncle had to go to work. He just had a Russian roulette of liquor and beer, and yet had to go to work. When I inquired C about this, she said that it wasn’t real work, since he was a boss of a company. Therefore he wouldn’t be doing any work that couldn’t be done with a buzz.
During all the dinner I was constantly toasted and offered more food. There was never a minute’s boredom and I was overwhelmed with the politeness and overbearing of C’s family. I feel extremely welcome and also very estranged at the same time. They do the best to let me feel like a member of the family, but I still lack language skills to make my own expression there.
Short time before we finished eating, C told me to grab a beer, walk around the table and top-off all family members glasses. According to C this is a very polite gesture here. I must admit that it feels strange for me. Coming from Denmark it would be considered rude if a guest poured the host’s glass, but then again: its china and not Denmark. Wiser people than me would have guessed that already.
After beer pouring C told me to raise my glass and say a few words describing my impression and feelings about meeting her family and being in Yilan. The words came easy to me for once. I’ve seen so many new things, met so many new wonderful people and been in a constantly changing environment so my head was full and my mouth ready to go. I could have gone on for hours, but also had to consider that C had to translate. Her Danish is pretty good, but yet not good enough to simultaneously translate or do difficult words/sentences. So I kept it short and neat. Can’t remember what I said other than it included words like “honoured” and “feeling welcome”. It was well accepted and C later told me that I did very well.
It was time to break up and head for home. C’s parents and her aunt took a cap home, while C’s sisters and her brothers-in-law walked along in the cool evening streets. As always I assume one thing here and another one will happen.
I was ready to go home and suck-in today’s many impressions, but C whispered to me: “They want to go and sing”. That was my cue to mentally prepare for some karaoke. I’m not a public singer. I’m not even a singer. The musical talent I our family is divided between my brother and my mother. Actually I hate the thought of other people hearing my “singing voice”, but I knew before we arrived, that I’d have to.
The Karaoke joint
After some hassle C’s family finally found some English lyrics. As one would expect there weren’t much I knew and it was all corny stuff. From the 16 songs I could recognize 2 or 3. None were interesting, but I wanted to get it over with so I turned to C and said: “Hell – it doesn’t matter anyway They’re all crap and I have to sing something, right? Number 7 then!”.
5 seconds later without the chance to prepare with a Do-re-mi-fa-so-la-bi-do, the song was started and I started doing my own version of Bonnie Tyler’s – True Colors. This was the most strange I’ve felt since I landed in Yilan. There I was. Singing to my in-laws doing a western song with Chinglish subtitles. For example “True” was spelled “Treu” and so on. Pretty difficult to focus on your voice, when you use half your brainpower laughing inside. It’s was an absurd situation, but sure one to remember. Fortunately I was let of the hook after that one. I think I did alright though, but my performance definitely tells me that I’m not meant for American Idol.
During the whole karaoke scene my in-laws munched down tonnes of sunflower seeds. When we left half of the remains were scattered on the floor and the other half on the table. Not by accident, but because that’s normal. Someone else will clean it. They’re paid to.
After this long day, a good night’s sleep was much needed and finally it was time. But what a cool day it was.
Trumpet honkers scaring away evil spirits? Wedding outside the appartment
