Departures and Arrivals

September 26, 2008.

The long wait is finally done. Three weeks, two days, and an especially taxing 72 hours past due, near as I can make it, I am beginning to settle myself in Anqing.

An-ching.

Doi-boo-chee. Bah. These pronunciations will take some getting used to.
My boon companions for the flights over were more than anyone could ask for, and more than I deserved. We shared easy laughter and fought down each other’s curdling nerves as well as could be expected. I was sad to part from them, but seeing them again will be something to look forward to. I hope their trips to their schools were smooth as mine.

I will miss them, though. Funny to think that, of people you can’t even claim to know. But I know I will, because for now, they are my first, best, and only friends in this place.

My first experience alone was an unsettling one. I was every bit the hapless mark of a foreigner as soon as I stepped into the airport. Some “kind” folks came to help me get everything sorted with the airline… (and yes, please note that when you look like a helpless boob, the “kind” folks are probably trying to swindle you out of something)… so when they were taking my baggage, one of them, the lady, led me away suspiciously and said, “You pay, bags too heavy.”

It was true enough. I knew it, expected it. And they had been helpful. So, “How much?” I said. That was when “1000” crept out of her mouth.
Now, first, that’s in RMB, so it’s about 150 bucks, which would not be such an outlandish baggage charge in the US. After all, I was about double the acceptable weight. But I can smell a fish as well as the next guy. I got the tell when they saw the shadow that must have passed over my face.

“You have 1000?” The other one asked. I was saved by a bit of dumb luck here, as I so often am. I had separated my remaining RMB into two pockets, about half in each. I had about 750. So I said, “No.” It never hurts when you’re able to tell the truth.

“Well, how much,” the lady asked, looking perturbed beyond words. And she had seemed so nice…
“About 400,” I said apologetically. The woman openly scowled. The man was nicer. "400 fine,” he said after a long moment of thought. So I fished it out.

Turned out I had 440 in the pocket I… turned out. The woman grabbed at my two remaining 20’s before I realized what she was doing. I held on to one. She wore a look that would have burned a hole in me if she were Superman. But she wasn’t. I gave her a shrug and turned toward security. Ok, so maybe there was a little evil in my eye.

Not the best first impression, to be sure, but better were on the way. I boarded the flight, and the rest was without incident (although it seems worthwhile to note that bumping into each other and cutting in line is apparently acceptable crowd behavior in China… meaning I’m going to like it here. A lot.). One of the Chinese teachers from my school was there waiting for me—Joanna. Very nice, with a decent command of English, enough so that I got a neat little Mandarin lesson on the two hour ride to Anqing from Hefei. The mountains just outside Anqing, by the way, are pretty damn breathtaking.

When I arrived, we went straight to the apartment. It’s a loft, down a back alley, up six flights of stairs. No view to speak of, but then I’ve never been too particular about living space. I got to unpack and take a nap, and that seemed swell to me after all that other garbage.

Some time later, I met my roommate, an older Canadian gentleman named Remy who I have yet to form an opinion of. I could have one already, of course. It just wouldn’t be a fair one. Anyway, he seems nice enough so far.

As Remy—hereafter, Ray—and I were talking, two others came into the apartment. Colin and another older Chinese man whose name I didn’t catch… although it was never thrown. They took me to eat while Ray refused.

They asked me what I wanted, to which I said, “Food.” I think this was confusing. Well, as ever, I wanted a burger, or at least a sandwich. So I lied, saying, “I’m adventurous. You pick and we’ll see if I like it.” They seemed to approve of this attitude, judging from the smiles and boisterous sing-song speak that I have, as yet, no hope of understanding.

We went about 50 feet into a strange little place with no dining room, just an anteroom with a flight of stairs. The tables were all scattered about in rooms laid out in the stories above. We climbed a couple flights and settled into a private room.

They asked me what I wanted, again, but I just waved it off. Eventually the server began bringing in all manner of strange meat and vegetable dishes. Frog, pork-hoof soup… pretty standard, really. As Colin and I were discussing (in his rather remarkably good English) the merits of American television, Prison Break in particular, the other man began chirruping excitedly. Colin then informed me that he wanted to know if I would have a beer. Seriously, you have to ask at this point? Did I ever.

So we had beer. This was one of the best things I have ever been a part of. The server brought absolutely enormous bottles of beer, more than 40 oz. I believe, though they were measured in mL. The older Chinese man began gesturing wildly as he spoke, and then poured some of the beer into a double-sized shot glass near his dish. And I had thought it was for water.

We spent roughly the next fifteen minutes doing double shots of beer for various toasts that I couldn’t understand. The man would stand, smile, pick up his glass, say something cheerful, pound the glass back to the table and throw it back. Of course I joined in with unabashed enthusiasm. Apparently it is poor etiquette if you don’t finish your whole drink on a toast. Colin rarely finished his, and he would nod his head deferentially to both of us afterwards. As it should be. Soon enough the beers were gone, and I found myself liking China quite a bit.

I ate some of most everything brought to table. It was good, not great. My hosts kept complaining about this or that, seemingly fearful that I would be offended. They were very vocal in their displeasure to the restaurant staff, which kept me amused most of the meal. Before long it was done, and time for me to adjourn to my bed to get some much needed rest.

So here I sit, typing this as I prepare to sleep. Hoping I haven’t just committed intestinal suicide (intesticide?) by eating adventurously. Praying for the dog I saw as I walked back from dinner. Missing friends, old and new. And smiling.