Louis Hutong

Happy Anniversary...

To me...it's been two years now since I moved to China. I still remember my first night out, looking for something to eat. I went down to Sanlitun looking for some food, finding only some really bad dumplings and about a hundred different people asking me if I was interested in going to a "lady bar".

I'm tempted to go out and relive the first night experience...

Happy Foolish Festival!

Apparently I'm not hip to the Chinese version of April Fool's Day, or as it was China-fied to me later, "Happy Foolish Festival!" Twice today I have been duped by some of my Chinese counterparts.

The first happened shortly after lunch when a female acquaintance I know sent me the following two messages:

SMS Message 1; 12:54pm:  "Love You !"
SMS Message 2; 12:55pm: "Love you ! Happy foolish festival ! ;-)"

And then later that day, my Chinese tutor, also by SMS, shared this with me:

Teacher: "There are some people want to play American football, but they are novice. Would you please be their coach?"
Me: "Sounds interesting. I'm not sure I'm the best coach around. Who are they?"
Teacher: "Many beautiful girls and an April fool!"
 
In the first case, I had some suspicions that this particular girl harbored some feelings for me. It was probably the constant stream of text messages and late-night phone calls that tipped me off! So as you can understand, receiving an "I love you" message out of nowhere sent a small chill down my spine. And considering the fact that her father is a retired military general, I was a little unnerved for the next two minutes. As for the second case, I'm not even sure how this classifies as a joke. I was actually more disappointed than anything else. Coaching an all Chinese girls American football team would have made a excellent story.

The point here is that to truly classify as a successful prank, you have to convince someone of something that falls outside their normal scope of reason.  In Beijing, neither of my scenarios classify. Ask any red-blooded, white man in Beijing if he's ever had a local girl express (out of nowhere!) her emotions for him and he normally has at least 2-3 stories. It's just that common. And yes, the football story did seem a little odd to me, but considering what local students do to experience American culture at times...I really wasn't surprised. It's the equivalent of me learning to speak Chinese while experience the culture by learning Mahjong or the proper way to mix green tea and Chivas!

Apparently, I'm not the foreigner affected. Since I had already been the victim of two jokes, I decided to share the love and play a few of my own on some expat friends. I started off by convincing a Spanish friend that I'd hooked up at some bar with a friend of hers. And yet, despite her knowing that I've never done this, she completely bought it, right up until the point I reminded her what day it was. To my surprise, she had already been tricked twice as well, but fell for this one.

I then tried a slight variant of the first joke with a second friend, but this time using my first victim as the girl I hooked up with. Similar story, same result. Except this time, he actually called the girl I was supposedly involved with to dig up some dirt. And since she was in on the joke, she just played coy enough to have him believing what happened. He was actually glad to hear that our mutual friend had found a "quality" guy after all the losers she had dated. So feeling a little guilty, I told him it was just a joke. Yet strangely enough, he refused to believe me and now thinks I'm hiding something from him.

Was my little prank that good? Absolutely not. It's just seems that so many strange and dramatic things happen here in Beijing that no one is even capable of distinguishing fiction from reality. Basically, anything that has more than a 15% chance of happening can and will be considered the truth. Two years ago, you couldn't convince me that the Chinese government could control the weather, but I've seen it! I wouldn't have even believed a driving system based on rapid swerving and repetitive honking could get anyone between two points, but I make it to work every morning.

I couldn't even believe the government could convince all the people in Beijing to stand in line and stop spitting, but...oh wait...

Happy Foolish Festival!

 

The Case of the Flighty Stewardess

Homecoming Queens, Cheerleaders, Stewardesses...

These are the three types of girls that I'd like to say I've dated at least once in my life. When you grow up wearing coke bottles on your acne-covered face, you tend to make these little "someday i'll..." lists, so I'm not going to make any apologies. This just happens to be one of the more superficial of my lists.  Besides, when you're a teenager, you're not really known for much depth.

Eventually thought I did start blooming, and have been lucky to have had a fairly active dating life. So much so that  I've even been able to scratch off two of the above. Namely the Homecoming Queens and Cheerleaders...

The one I had to wait for was the Stewardess. And it's the one I still have to wait for...

Last June, on a cool Sunday night, I agreed to meet three of my co-workers on the outside patio of Suzie Wang's for a drink (of coke). For a place that gets labeled a "meat market" by many, it was surprisingly mellow. So mellow that there was easily a 2-to-1 ratio of wait staff to customers, but that didn't matter, we were just there to catch up with each other. As I walked upstairs, I noticed two girls leisurely sipping on their drinks near the inside bar. I made a mental note and headed on outside. After a few minutes of talking, one of my co-workers mentioned the two girls they noticed while walking in. I couldn't help but nod in agreement. And then, as the last of our group finally shows up, he immediately walks up and asks if we had noticed the two girls at the bar.

Of course, we all laughed, but continued on with our drinks for the next hour or two. I had commented to one of the guys that it was too bad it was his last night in town and he didn't get a chance to see the Beijing nightlife. I told him that we'd take him out the next time he came through to make up for it. From there, we decided to call it a night and head home.

That is, until we passed the table where our previous "sightings" still remained glued to their drinks. Of course, they hardly noticed us walking by, at last until I got struck with a uncharacteristic burst of courage. Once again, I was drinking coke all evening so there may be some caffeine-induced delirium involved here. So taking the opportunity given to us, I grabbed the only other single man in group...our soon-to-be-departing friend...and pulled him to their table, where I launched into a speech about how my poor friend never had the chance to meet any of the beautiful women in Beijing and how this might be his last opportunity.

Now whether they even understood my little English speech is still a mystery. All I know is that they started giggling, which to most males is an undeniable sign of permission to sit down and annoy you the rest of the night. We quickly discovered that their English was rather limited (as was my Chinese at the time), so my friend ended up playing the on and off translator for the rest of the evening. I was finally able to have a small English conversation with the girl I was sitting near, and it was enough to discover that they were both off-duty stewardesses for one of China's domestic airlines.

Of course, my friend and I were secretly ecstatic about the news as evidenced by the immature "they're stewardesses!!!" text messages we sent each other later that night. Still, we played it cool and were somehow able to parlay this into two hours of mojitos, martinis, and cokes. Eventually though, the night had to end, as the two ladies had an early flight to catch. Quickly stepping up to the plate, my friend quietly asked for and received "his" girl's phone number to which I also followed suit with mine. Stewardess fantasies bouncing through my head, I was completely oblivious towards the impossibly frustrating attempt at a follow-up that was soon to come.

Knowing they'd be busy that week with work, I waited 5 or 6 days before I decided to drop her a quick message. Surprisingly she responded, and after some awkward texting and actual phone calls, we agreed to meet the following Sunday for lunch.

When Sunday rolled around, I wanted to confirm we were still on for lunch. Unfortunately, all my text messages and phone calls went unanswered. I had been stood up. For the first time in my life. After waiting for about 45 minutes, my primal sex drive got replaced by the more necessary hunger drive and I gave up. I actually tried a few days after that to get back in touch, but even then, nothing. All my fantasies suddenly went poof!

A few weeks later I received a message from her. Apparently...she had lost her mobile phone on one of her flights and was unable to get a hold of me. It was only then that she was able to recover her phone and get back to me. I was willing to accept this, and being a sucker for pretty girls, was more than happy to give her a second chance. So over the next few weeks we got stuck in a game of phone tag consisting of us making and breaking plans due to our mutually changing schedules. With her schedule being even more chaotic I got burned out on trying and we agreed that she'd just message me when she was free.

And so the age of silence began. It wasn't until the new year (2007, not the Pig) that I finally heard back from her. And even then, it was because I happened to send everyone in my phonebook a New Year's greeting. I'm not sure if that prompted her to remember me, but she replied back. Surprised, and relaxed again after my vacation, I thought I'd take another go at it.

So again, we finally agree to a time and date. This time, it was a Wednesday, and I'd made a reservation at a Yunnan restaurant here in Beijing. Because work was busy, I let most of the day slip by without messaging her to confirm. I had learned my lesson from last time, so I had made sure we had a definite place and time. Unfortunately, it didn't help when I tried to call, as once again she was a no-show.

I'm not accepting a lost phone as an excuse this time. This is just pure idiocy. Can someone really be this inconsiderate in not responding? Had she possibly lost her good sense by sticking head outside the window during mid-flight? Apparently shecould...

And apparently I could easily give this one up. Sure, it's a boyish dream, but I'm old enough to know that I don't have time for this. I never waited around for her before and I'm not going to do it again. But as a guy, we can't help but act stupid every chance that we get. And I would get yet another chance. And it would only be three months later.

This time, there were no actual phone calls, just a long barrage of text messages. So for the sake of historical accuracy, I will share them here. Items in red are her, blue are me, and black is Jiminy Cricket.

[7:07 am] I am <name withdrawn>!   remember  me? (if you introduce yourself to a guy this early in the morning, you better be doing it by rolling over and tapping him on the shoulder. sorry, had to go lowbrow on that one.)

[7:12 am] Yes, I do. How are you? (by the way, i'm extremely nearsighted. i had to hold my mobile 3mm away from eyeball to even write that. i now have a permanent retina burn that looks remarkably like audrey hepburn.)

[4:41 pm]  Fine,i am very sorry (cool, it only took her 9 1/2 hours to respond to my last message. this is going great!)

[4:42 pm] What happened?

[4:44 pm] I not have dinner with you (i'm not going to be childish and make fun of her english, ok?)

[4:45 pm] I know. :-)  are we going to meet sometime? Or should i give up? (bam, right to the point! owned!)

[4:47 pm] are you angry? (let me think, this is the first i've heard of you since january? you tell me)

[4:48 pm] A little. I was actually more worried that something bad happened... (i'm now a cute and fuzzy bunny)

[5:13 pm] So, will we meet sometime for dinner? (ok, so she couldn't translate my bunny-talk. i had to reload)

[5:27 pm] Sorry,and then i have a meeting!do you can have luch?

[5:35 pm] Not sure about lunch. When are you free?

[5:37 pm] TOMORROW (did it suddenly get a little loud in here?)

[6:53 pm] Sorry, had to check schedule. I'm free. What time? (i know, you're thinking it now takes me forever to respond. really though, i had to check my calendar)

[6:58 pm] what about you?

[6:59 pm] I have time for lunch or dinner. It's your choice. (i hear women like men who make a decision. i'm glad i was such a putz here)

[7:01 pm] 12:30Pm?where?

[7:06 pm] Do you eat pizza? Or would you rather eat chinese food?

[7:07 pm] Pizza!i like! (you know you want me to make the "i like pie too" joke here)

[7:09 pm] Ok, meet me at the 3x3 store on sanlitun tomorrow. Ok? (ok, post-de-putzing, i make a decision...)

[7:15 pm] Sorry,i will fly tomorrow!i am very sorry! (only to get shot down 6 minutes after making it)

[7:16 pm] You are killing me. (but then again, aren't all women just trained assassins of the heart, aren't they? oops, temporary college-esque misogyny came burping up there)

[7:18 pm] I am so sorry! (...for being a nutcase)

[7:19 pm] Then meet me tonight. My plans fell thru, so i'm now free. (attempting to bluff her out)

[7:35 pm] Yes? No? ;-) (until i re-putz and cry like a baby)

And so it ends. I have not received any further responses for her. And since I have not heard of any plane crashes in the China area, I can only assume that she is still alive.

Now whether or not this is the last chapter of this saga is still yet to be determined. I'm at the age where I know what's worth wasting my time over and what's not. However, there is still the "thrill of the chase" that all guys suffer with that secretly hopes this saga continues. If this pursuit does ever yield any results, I'll now be free to move on to #4 on the list...

Chinese bar girls who wear Heineken dresses.

Karaoke Song of Death

Karaoke is just part of China, much like it is throughout the rest of Asia. And at some point or another, your friends, coworkers, random homosexual Chinese men (not my story), etc. will invite you to a night of eating, drinking, and oh yeah, singing! Unfortunately, I can not (as of yet) read Chinese characters, so whenever a Chinese song comes up...I quietly sit to the side and hope that I can contribute to the occasional line or two in English.

There is one song that seems to come up every time I go to a karaoke. I only write about it because of its disturbing imagery.  Please take a look at it yourself and let me know if you agree with my assessment.

As you can see from the video, we open up with a young man walking towards a lone piano on a concert hall stage. We see him take out his mobile phone to dial someone and then sit down at the piano as the person on the other end begins to listen. It's at this point we fade into a flashback of the same man and a young girl. He's just a young composer struggling to make it, only to have a domineering girlfriend constantly henpecking and criticizing his work.

At one point, he's in the middle of composing his music when she butts in and corrects him! It's from here you can tell he plans to stop this madness, but has yet to create a plan. Later, while watching some silly "chick-flick", she starts sobbing uncontrollably. He suddenly realizes something about this movie is causing her to display actual human emotions, so he leans in to investigate. At this point she attacks his lips with her lips and a 10-second (or so) battle ensues until she's forced to disengage her tongue by some unseen force. Stunned, he notices her nose has started to bleed which is followed by a maniacal laughter on her part.

At this point, he's had enough and takes her to the psychologist for further examination. I'm still not sure why the psychologist would need to check her heart beat and blood pressure, but since I can't read the Chinese characters, I'm just going to have to assume that's how they work here in China. Getting confirmation from the doctor that his girlfriend is in fact human, he sets upon discovering what caused this vulnerability in her otherwise icy exterior to appear.

Apparently she escapes the psycho-ward, as next we see he's invited her to the concert hall to listen to a musical piece he's prepared for her. As he starts to play the first few notes, she collapses onto the floor. Most people would quickly run to the aid of a pretty girl like this, but this guy stares at her crumpled body for a few moments before attempting to help her back up.

It gets a little fuzzy as to what happened here, so I'm going to fill in the gaps for you. Granted, they don't show you any of this, but you can pretty much guess from the context.  When she was at the hospital, he realized that the music playing in the movie they had watched earlier had a resonance frequency capable of causing her physical arm and death. As a young composer, he diligently worked to isolate this frequency and incorporated it into his latest masterpiece. Once again, none of this is show. I'm sure all the scientific mumbo-jumbo would have made for a lame music video, so can you blame them for cutting it out?

So we then jump to the hospital, where we find her laying in a bed connected to a vast array of machines. Then again, some of us think she's a little robotic anyway, so maybe this is how she refuels (I don't know!). Regardless, he realizes that his plan has failed, she's still alive. To make this murder succeed, he needs to play her the complete song. So in a somewhat clever move, he puts a mobile phone into her hand and quickly leaves the room.

From here we switch back to the opening scene with him at the piano dialing his phone. A-ha! Now we understand! As she answers his call, he starts into his dainty little dirge of death, hoping to finish what he started...her pre-meditated musically-induced murder. Sure enough, the phone is dropped and we lose her. Ironically, the part of the song that did her in was actually the refrain she "helped" him with earlier in the video. I think the symbolism there offers a lesson for all of us...

So there it ends...and yet this song gets sung every, single time I enter a karaoke. Maybe someday I'll get an explanation as to why so many Chinese men like to sing a song about murdering their girlfriend. Maybe the Western girls have it much easier than the Chinese girls. At least their boyfriends don't want to murder them.

Go, Go, GouRou!

If I just tell you that "GouRou" means dog meat, you can pretty much figure out where the rest of this post is going...

Today, after 19 months in China, I had the first and only bite of dog meat of my short life. I think for me to write anything further about this experience is not really necessary. It's not that it was disgusting, but I do have to live with myself, knowing I ate someone's pet.

I did however get some kudos as being officially "Chinese" by doing this, but I can't convince myself it's worth it. AllI know is that my Chinese boy scout, dog-eating badge better be in the mail to me right now though!

And before anyone asks me, I don't know what kind of dog it...*gulp*...was...

What I like about Beijing

The best (maybe the worst) thing about knowing a little Chinese, is that you get into conversations you suddenly find yourself no longer able to understand. After meeting a friend for drinks tonight, him with a glass of Brandy and me with my trusted bottled water, I caught a cab home. As usual, the driver starts with the standard questions: where are you from, do you like China, how long have you been here, etc., etc. Impressing myself with my vast array of stock questions and answers, I was just chugging along... even learning that my driver had been in Beijing for about 2 and a half years, was from nearby Miyun and had only one girlfriend. 

I'm sure you just said to yourself,  "One girlfriend? What does that have to do with anything?" Well, I started joking around with him, basically calling him a player and accusing him of having many girlfriends. I figure he meets so many women in a day, he must be collecting a lot of digits along the way. What girl wouldn't dig the pungent smell of week-old tea combined with the B.O. of a man confined to a small area all his life? Side note: That was a joke, but in some crazy Chinese logic, I may have hit on something. Moving on...

Well this leads into a conversation about the ladies (nuren) of Beijing, until he suddenly switches his term for ladies into the more colorful xiaojie. This was right around the same point he switches on the local-accent (qiche-hua) and begins to rapid fire me with questions. I try to stay with him, but finally give up and just start faking it with a bunch of "dui's" and "hao's" hoping to keep him satisfied long enough to make it to my stop. Finally arriving at home, he continued to barrage me with half-grinned questions, so I threw out one more "hao" with a dash of "zaijin" and was out the door.

Walking into my building, it suddenly occurred to me after a little after-the-fact translation, that I may have just agreed with him on how exciting the hookers are in Beijing.

Don't worry, I'm not your ambassador.