Tonight is another night I just can't sleep, it's already 3AM. I don't have any fun stories about eating pig parts. But we have noticed a pattern of questions here...
I really noticed it this summer. During the summer it was very hot. I was with a friend visiting a mom and her twelve year old son. In China, as it is in the rest of Asia and even in the U.S., it is customary to remove your shoes when entering someone's home. It is also customary here for them to provide you with slippers.
On that particular hot day I don't remember if the slippers were too small for me or not. It's not uncommon for people to not have slippers large enough for my feet, although there are plenty of large people here, maybe their feet are small, I don't know, but it happens. But I do remember that I wore sandals that day so I had bare feet once I slipped my sandals off.
As we were about to leave the twelve year old boy pointed at my feet in amazement and everyone looked at the crazy barefoot American standing on the hot cement floor.
Was I cold? Weren't my feet cold? Frankly I didn't understand the line of questioning, it was over 95 degrees outside and inside, wouldn't cold feet be desirable? But they weren't cold, I was hot!
The twelve year old boy joyously kicked off his house slippers as if kicking off shackles and chains. He said that he was going to be barefoot too!
But his mother immediately told him to put his slippers back on and that the only reason that I was able to do it was that my body was different because I ate beef all the time.
Yes, beef. I have heard this so many times: Americans eat beef. Of course it is true, the average American eats more beef than the average Chinese person. Everyone asks us if Americans eat lamb, or sheep. Yes, we tell them, but a lot of people don't like it, we don't eat it as often as beef... I must have said it a hundred times!
Just what does that kid's mother think will happen to him if he doesn't wear slippers in the house when it's hot outside? Is she worried that he won't put them back on in the winter and it gets cold out? Actually it makes sense to me that the locals here insist that slippers should be worn, the floors are usually cement and usually cold and hard. Cold is a very real thing to be reckoned with here. It's just strange to me that we need a wive's tale about how you must wear slippers at all times so you don't die. Seems like kids would just want to do it on their own when it was cold.
Now recently it hasn't been hot outside, it's actually very cold. And I wear a huge down filled jacket, hat, mittens, insulated pants, thermals, everything, it all keeps me warm. But the trouble with all that insulation is that when I get inside and I can't take it off right away, or I have to hike up five flights of stairs: I tend to sweat a lot.
So I usually wear a teeshirt and sometimes a flannel shirt under my huge jacket so that I can quickly take off, or open, my jacket and flannel and cool off as fast as possible, which I do often. But so many times I get comments about how "lee-hai" I am wearing my t-shirt. "Lee-hai" I think can translate into "fierce". They seem quite impressed, even though people here ride motorcycles through the -35 degree wind bare faced with shaved heads, no helmets, scarves, or hats. -35 degrees is crazy cold, it makes the exposed parts of my skin burn within seconds when I'm just standing there, with a hat and a scarf.
I am always confused by the questions. You think I'd just learn to move past it, just nod my head or something. But every time these questions and comments flabbergast me. Did they not see the huge four-inch thick jacket I just peeled off? Or didn't they notice the sweat dripping down my face and that I also took off a sweat wet flannel? Does the temperature inside, which is usually quite warm, feel different to them? (Actually it probably does)
And, yes, of course I've been asked more than once if I can wear T-shirts in December because I eat beef all the time. Recently I was asked that in a restaurant right after lunch, but the person who asked had just ate beef and lamb with us, we all just ate the same thing.
I think I need to turn the tables on the people here and turn the questioning back around on them. Maybe I'll ask them if they're wearing long sleeve shirts because they eat rice or noodles every day... Or maybe I'll just get over it and learn to just nod my head: Yep, I eat beef every day, that's why I am the way I am. Slippers? Don't need 'em! I ate beef for breakfast this morning.
Sunday, December 25, 2016
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Eyes Wide Open & Other Things Dried Open
It is 2:30 AM, sharp, as I'm typing this blog entry. I can't sleep, I can't stop thinking, my eyes are wide open. You probably know the feeling. Years ago I made agreement with myself not to just lie in bed staring at the ceiling for hours on end, while not sleeping, when I could be doing something a little enjoyable or productive, while not sleeping, instead. I might as well be doing something. Sometimes I read, sometimes I write computer code, and sometimes... I blog.
Tonight, Becky and I ate at a fancy restaurant called Pizza Hut. You may laugh, but it is a little fancier than the Pizza Huts that I've been too in the U.S., and the menu is quite diverse, and fancy. It is also open until 10:30 PM, being the primary reason we chose it while walking towards home through a mall whose stores were all closing at 9:00 PM. But this blog entry isn't about Pizza Hut, I feel like I've already explained Pizza Hut in a previous blog. Did I mention that Pizza Hut is not directly associated with the Pizza Hut in the U.S? Anyway we had half of a left over pizza to bring home.
Dave and Irene were also not at home while Becky and I were eating our fancy dinner at Pizza Hut. They were somewhere in some other part of town, kilometers away, saying their farewells to some friend of theirs that Becky and I'd never met. I guess their friend was going back home to Korea or something.
A couple hours later, after pizzas had been boxed, and farewells had been said, Becky and I heard Dave and Irene come in through the front door while talking to each other. We hadn't been home for very many minutes ourselves so we went out from our room to greet our old room-mates as they shed their thick warmth protecting jackets, boots, gloves and hats.
Dave and Irene have moved back in with us, it's the second day. For about a month, after they got back from the U.S., they were living in an apartment across town, but it turned out to be too expensive there. Rent is paid a year in advance here in China, and they were lucky to get 7 months of their rent back after staying that month. So for Becky and I it has been kind of like "old times" when we first moved into this apartment as guests one year and 22 days ago. It's nice being able to tell jokes and complain about the weather with friends in one's native tongue.
We shared our leftover pizza with them, which all four of us were excited about. "It's almost like a real pizza!" we told them. Pizza that tastes like pizza is hard to find here. Apparently people on the other side of the world have different likes and dislikes when it comes to things like pizza. Most pizza has shrimp on it here. Also corn, peas, and other things are what people want to see on their pizza here. Becky and I have noticed that even the Pizza Hut pizza has basically no pizza sauce on it. I never realized that I liked pizza sauce until I ate pizza without it. It's just a little off. Dave ate his two slices cold, like a man, but Irene heated hers up in the big toaster oven.
But my favorite part of the evening wasn't the leftover pizza that Dave and Irene were happily eating on the other side of our little breakfast table, the four of us sitting there just before midnight. It was the lively conversation about what had happened during the day...
Dave had spent part of his day in a leather shop. We are all good friends with, and frequently visit, the leather craftsman: Mr. Han. Actually I was just there the day before sharing some of my favorite tea with Mr. Han and one of his apprentices. But, tonight, Irene wanted to hear about what Dave ate for lunch.
Many times I've heard people back home in The States make jokes, and many have asked me if we've had to eat cat or dog here in China, or in Taiwan. And that question always makes me chuckle to myself that eating cat or dog wouldn't be that bad. The difficulty doesn't usually arise from what animal you're eating, it's more about what part of the animal you're eating. The Chinese do not let anything go to waste. And really, honestly, coming from the famously wasteful American culture I have to respect that. It was not so long ago that China was having food shortages, people close to my age remember it, and, even now China has a large segment of it's population that still struggles with poverty. So it might even be a little insensitive to act disgusted because people may have been desperate enough to eat cat or dog here, and even learned to like it. That being said, I have never seen anyone eat cat or dog here. But I have, while driving by, seen two restaurants that, according to their signage, do indeed serve dog.
But today Dave told us, over our laughter, that he had eaten some pig butt hole for lunch.
Yes, sorry, it's hard to blog about it without being crass, but that's what they gave him for lunch today: A slice of the colon of a pig, with the anus attached.
Apparently the colon is quite muscular and thick, it has a lot of meat on it, I guess it's a muscle after all. The "meat" had been smoked, partially dried, and the colon part sliced like calamari. Actually Dave said that the texture of the colon was a lot like calamari. He also mentioned that the "butt hole" part was "dried open," meaning that it had been cooked in such a way that it was partially open.
Of course, over our little wobbly breakfast table that's held up on one side by a two-by-four, we all laughed and made jokes about sliding "dave's lunch" over a chopstick, or sucking up apple sauce with it. Personally I tried not to imagine what it tasted like, or felt like while he chewed it. According to Dave it tasted fine, he said he would not have eaten it if it had even smelled a little bit like poo. But even so, he said, he felt a little sick and grossed out for the rest of the day. He ate it because his friend Mr. Han said it was good and offered it to him. Dave's a good friend.
Now in case you're wondering, it wasn't a cruel joke that Mr. Han was playing on Dave. He wasn't laughing or anything like that, Mr. Han is very kind. Also, in case you're wondering, you will never have to eat anything you really don't want to eat here. No one will actually force you to eat anything or be offended if you don't. People do love pushing food on their guests, it's considered generosity and hospitality when they put food on your plate and tell you to eat, eat, eat! But you don't have to eat it if you don't want to, you just have to say: no, no, no! In fact, I don't think it would be lying if you told them that you "can't" eat pig butt hole. I mean could you? I don't think I'd be physically capable of it. But Dave is.
Actually I think this story says something about Dave, as a guy, Dave is not somebody I'd trifle with. I mean you just shouldn't mess with guys who can eat things like that for lunch.
Tonight, Becky and I ate at a fancy restaurant called Pizza Hut. You may laugh, but it is a little fancier than the Pizza Huts that I've been too in the U.S., and the menu is quite diverse, and fancy. It is also open until 10:30 PM, being the primary reason we chose it while walking towards home through a mall whose stores were all closing at 9:00 PM. But this blog entry isn't about Pizza Hut, I feel like I've already explained Pizza Hut in a previous blog. Did I mention that Pizza Hut is not directly associated with the Pizza Hut in the U.S? Anyway we had half of a left over pizza to bring home.
Dave and Irene were also not at home while Becky and I were eating our fancy dinner at Pizza Hut. They were somewhere in some other part of town, kilometers away, saying their farewells to some friend of theirs that Becky and I'd never met. I guess their friend was going back home to Korea or something.
A couple hours later, after pizzas had been boxed, and farewells had been said, Becky and I heard Dave and Irene come in through the front door while talking to each other. We hadn't been home for very many minutes ourselves so we went out from our room to greet our old room-mates as they shed their thick warmth protecting jackets, boots, gloves and hats.
Dave and Irene have moved back in with us, it's the second day. For about a month, after they got back from the U.S., they were living in an apartment across town, but it turned out to be too expensive there. Rent is paid a year in advance here in China, and they were lucky to get 7 months of their rent back after staying that month. So for Becky and I it has been kind of like "old times" when we first moved into this apartment as guests one year and 22 days ago. It's nice being able to tell jokes and complain about the weather with friends in one's native tongue.
We shared our leftover pizza with them, which all four of us were excited about. "It's almost like a real pizza!" we told them. Pizza that tastes like pizza is hard to find here. Apparently people on the other side of the world have different likes and dislikes when it comes to things like pizza. Most pizza has shrimp on it here. Also corn, peas, and other things are what people want to see on their pizza here. Becky and I have noticed that even the Pizza Hut pizza has basically no pizza sauce on it. I never realized that I liked pizza sauce until I ate pizza without it. It's just a little off. Dave ate his two slices cold, like a man, but Irene heated hers up in the big toaster oven.
But my favorite part of the evening wasn't the leftover pizza that Dave and Irene were happily eating on the other side of our little breakfast table, the four of us sitting there just before midnight. It was the lively conversation about what had happened during the day...
Dave had spent part of his day in a leather shop. We are all good friends with, and frequently visit, the leather craftsman: Mr. Han. Actually I was just there the day before sharing some of my favorite tea with Mr. Han and one of his apprentices. But, tonight, Irene wanted to hear about what Dave ate for lunch.
Many times I've heard people back home in The States make jokes, and many have asked me if we've had to eat cat or dog here in China, or in Taiwan. And that question always makes me chuckle to myself that eating cat or dog wouldn't be that bad. The difficulty doesn't usually arise from what animal you're eating, it's more about what part of the animal you're eating. The Chinese do not let anything go to waste. And really, honestly, coming from the famously wasteful American culture I have to respect that. It was not so long ago that China was having food shortages, people close to my age remember it, and, even now China has a large segment of it's population that still struggles with poverty. So it might even be a little insensitive to act disgusted because people may have been desperate enough to eat cat or dog here, and even learned to like it. That being said, I have never seen anyone eat cat or dog here. But I have, while driving by, seen two restaurants that, according to their signage, do indeed serve dog.
But today Dave told us, over our laughter, that he had eaten some pig butt hole for lunch.
Yes, sorry, it's hard to blog about it without being crass, but that's what they gave him for lunch today: A slice of the colon of a pig, with the anus attached.
Apparently the colon is quite muscular and thick, it has a lot of meat on it, I guess it's a muscle after all. The "meat" had been smoked, partially dried, and the colon part sliced like calamari. Actually Dave said that the texture of the colon was a lot like calamari. He also mentioned that the "butt hole" part was "dried open," meaning that it had been cooked in such a way that it was partially open.
Of course, over our little wobbly breakfast table that's held up on one side by a two-by-four, we all laughed and made jokes about sliding "dave's lunch" over a chopstick, or sucking up apple sauce with it. Personally I tried not to imagine what it tasted like, or felt like while he chewed it. According to Dave it tasted fine, he said he would not have eaten it if it had even smelled a little bit like poo. But even so, he said, he felt a little sick and grossed out for the rest of the day. He ate it because his friend Mr. Han said it was good and offered it to him. Dave's a good friend.
Now in case you're wondering, it wasn't a cruel joke that Mr. Han was playing on Dave. He wasn't laughing or anything like that, Mr. Han is very kind. Also, in case you're wondering, you will never have to eat anything you really don't want to eat here. No one will actually force you to eat anything or be offended if you don't. People do love pushing food on their guests, it's considered generosity and hospitality when they put food on your plate and tell you to eat, eat, eat! But you don't have to eat it if you don't want to, you just have to say: no, no, no! In fact, I don't think it would be lying if you told them that you "can't" eat pig butt hole. I mean could you? I don't think I'd be physically capable of it. But Dave is.
Actually I think this story says something about Dave, as a guy, Dave is not somebody I'd trifle with. I mean you just shouldn't mess with guys who can eat things like that for lunch.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)