29 March 2007

So Who's the Queen Mum?

I still have no computer, as it is perhaps more dead than I originally thought, so, alas, still no pictures. My deepest apologies. This today I am off to Anyang (Tibet is in two more weeks), so if you were planning on telephoning my for my birthday, I will not be here. If you weren't planning to phone me or didn't know that my birthday is this weekend, well, you're off the hook. As I am reduced to writing posts by hand then putting it directly into Blogger, the post, typos and all, is below:

Thoguh I've been in China almost 6 weeks now, I do not, surprisingly, miss Western food. When I spent a month in Shanghai, it only took two weeks until I started using class time to remember what bread tasted like. I drifted off to sleep thinking about creamy peanut butter and oozing jelly dripping from between two inch-thick pieces of spongy wheat bread. I paced the same grocery aisle looking for cereal but finding only rice. My stomach ached so badly for Ethiopian food that I thought it would collapse around itself.

This time, I have had one craving. I was walking out the door on the way to morning class when I was suddenly struck with an intense desire for macaroni and cheese. Two minutes later the craving was gone, but I found this to be a rather strange craving, as a box of Easy Mac has been sitting on the pantry floor at home for well over a year. Please do not send me pity macaroni.

The other night was Annetta's birthday, so ten of us went to the jiaozi fan guanr. In addition to about 7 other dishes, we ordered 150 dumplings.A few of us kept track of how many dumplings we could eat. I got to 16 (though to be fair, by the time I got there there were none left for me to eat), Annetta and Jason each pulled 17, and Gabriel, calorically impervious male that he is, ate 22 dumplings, followed by cheesecake, birthday cake, a kiwi smoothy, and a plate of food from the karaoke buffet. I'm a little jealous.

Sunday night we went out for "Greek" food. Annetta is half Greek, so we were all excited to have her order us an authentic Greek meal. What we forgot to think of was that it's hard to find an authentic Greek restaurant in America; trying to find authentic non-Asian in China is like hiring a Michael Jackson impersonator who has red hair and can't do the moonwalk to come perform at a Vegas casino. Not quite the same thing.

I guess the reason I'm not craving Western food is because, excluding the aforementioned Greek tragedy, I'm eating too well here. Or maybe it's because I don't miss much about America. I don't miss the clean (seemingly) Western-style toilets, the clean tap water, or forks.

Here, the Diet Coke tastes better. Pineapple and various other fruits are sold on every corner for very cheap. Public transportation is crowded but convenient, and hot water and tea are available everywhere. Even though men and women hoc lougies on the sidewalk, I can almost ignore that now.

The other day I went out for a walk and, for a few minutes, entirely forgot that I was a waiguo ren. For a short while, I didn't notice that people were staring. I forgot that this isn't technically my home because for a moment, it was. It was that feeling of comfort and familiarity that you recognize only when you don't feel it anymore. There are few places in the world where I have that feeling, and Wellesley has not been one of them, though maybe it will be when I return.

This walk occured before the events I described in my last post, but I don't hold that against China. I've been saying for awhile that my relationship with Wellesley is like a marriage. We're separated, currently in counseling, with an iminent but amicable divorce coming in June 2008. If this is true, the China is my mistress (or, mister, rather). China is to me what Camilla Parker Bowles is to Prince Charles. Perhaps when Wellesley and I divorce, China and I will be together again when we're old and grey. Except I won't wear all those silly hats.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

The more or less correct spelling of the noisy expectoration is: hock a loogie. The hocking is the obnoxious sound and the loogie is the abominable (or really an abdominal) projectile. I believe Ms. Bowles is a champion hocker of loogies.

The Epicurious Princess said...

that's so beautiful, ellis! I'm so happy that you are finding so much comfort in Zhongguo. I wish I could be there with you. And how cool that you'll be in Henan! I hope your computer gets fixed fast, and happy birthday (I knew before I read this post, though, that April Fools' day is your birthday)! Who is accompanying you to Lhasa? I can't wait to hear about it from you!

Anonymous said...

Enjoy Tibet! And pineapple! If you are Prince Charles, can I be Tony Blair?

Mmm...lougies [sic]...

Love,
Jake