I'm not usually one of those travelers who likes to hop from oasis to oasis of Western comforts and then congratulate myself for my intrepid foreign adventuring. I hate group tours and people who think the solution to the language barrier is to raise their voice and continue speaking in English.
And then, after a surprisingly uneventful 14-hour train ride in a coffin-like bunk, I arrived in Xi'An, home of the Terracotta Warriors. And it turns out, I am a whore for Western comforts!
It started with the taxi ride to my hostel: The driver knew a few words of English, which he happily shouted out as they occurred to him, and we had a lovely conversation on the narrow spit of land where our languages overlapped. ("America!" he said. "Meiguo," I agreed. "Obama!" "Absolutely! Obama!" Then he said, in Chinese, that speaking English makes him very happy. And I said, in English, "Me, too!")
And then the hostel. An English-speaking staff! I swear I got a little teary-eyed. I had coffee and pancakes while I waited for my room. Pancakes are the food of gods, I tell you. Then I wandered the city, and wonder of wonders, nobody stared at me as if I was a little green emissary from another planet. Well, almost nobody. And the place is fairly crawling with other Westerners, which is hugely odd, since I'm used to being the only white girl around, so it's a shock to the system to actually understand the conversations around me. (Actually, that's a pleasure that's starting to pall quickly, starting with breakfast this morning where an American "like ohmigod" kind of girl at the next table held forth for an interminable half-hour on how espresso isn't coffee. I think I was starting to forget how much most people annoy the hell out of me. But I digress.)
In any case, I am happily embarked on my winter break: Two weeks on the road to our VIA conference on an island on the other side of China, then off to Indonesia to visit Carolyn, Thailand and Cambodia to see Molly, Charlsea, et al. I'm not even going to think of snow, Xining and six layers of clothes just to run to the corner store until March!
So are you, like, fluent now? Have you learned the subtle differences between "cat," "sister" and...well, I forget the other one that sounds like cat and sister in Chinese. Mandarin, anyway. But it's some variation of "mao." My mom says "bunny" and "vomit" also sound similar. I'm sure that could come in very handy someday. And yes, I always knew you were a whore for Western comforts. You know you miss regular toilets and clean drinking water...
ReplyDeleteAnd all this time I thought it was "goat" and "mother" and "milk" that were subtle variations of "mao." Did you know that Bahasa Indonesia is the easiest spoken language on the planet? No articles. Or genders. Or plurals. Or tenses. I bet you're thinking Indonesia 2010 now, aren't you?
ReplyDeleteIn the interest of full disclosure, Jambi has no creature comforts to speak of, save warm weather, and no attractions, save myself. And your puppy, whom I have nursed back to health with the help of my little sisters.
And I promise I will try not to stare at you too much while you are here. So hurry up already. I miss you.
Oh yeah. Remember when I wanted to take a taxi to or from (I can't remember which end of the trip it was) the airport in Madrid? And you made it seem like I was being totally wimpy and extravagant? Oh yeah. I am finally vindicated. Love, your mother.
ReplyDeleteAw, mom. It's not like I made you hop on some third-world bus where you had to perch on crates of live chickens -- we just took the subway, is all.
ReplyDelete