You live, you learn
Life in China is coming together quite nicely. Today, as I rode my bike to work for the very first time, I felt so happy and peaceful. I though to myself, if this solo ride across town somehow ends badly, I just want my friends and family to know I was really happy when I went. That didn't come out quite as light and frothy as I had aimed. Suffice it say that our simple lives in this corner of the world are rather delightful.
A few days after I returned from Qingdao, I met a few students downtown at the Black Tiger Springs. It was nice to be out of the classroom and feel like friends. As we ate lunch, they asked me how many countries I had been to and what my life back home was like. As the conversation progressed, I wanted so badly for it to sink in that I am lucky to have literally all the choices in the world, with everyone I know backing me, telling me to just do "what makes me happy". They told me that it is unlikely they will ever get to leave China. We sat there, four 22 year old women, pasts and futures vastly different. I have still not discovered if youth here are just as satisfied and dissatisfied with their lives as I am with mine. With the language and cultural barrier, I am not sure that I will ever know the answer. In the moments we were laughing and eating spicy cabbage, it seemed we were exactly the same.
Josh and I ate lunch at our favorite spot again yesterday--I still don't know the name of it, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. Lately, we have had the same sweet and smiley young waitress. When she brought our change over, she handed me a note. She must have assumed that we read Chinese because of how quickly we order off the menu (we are still getting mileage out of pointing to something on the menu and waiting for a surprise to appear from the kitchen). I took it with both hands and said thank you. She lingered and looked at me for a moment and then we left. I was so anxious to find out what it said. The possibilities were endless: "Why do you come to this restaurant every other day?", "I think you should know the other waitresses don't bring you what you order and they have a good laugh in the back because you are so clueless when your food arrives" ?
I took the note to work this morning and had one of my best students read it out to me: "Older sister, would you lend me 10 quai? I will return it to you soon. Thank you."
Josh's reaction: We should never go back there. It was very wrong for her to ask customers for money. And if you lent it to her, she may ask again and again.
These were all undebatable arguments and I waited until he finished before I told him what I did. I had my student write a reply: "Hello, we do not read or speak Chinese..yet. I had to have someone translate your note to me. This is our favorite restaurant. ~Betsy" and without even thinking, I folded a 10 quai note up in the paper and delivered it to her at the restaurant on my way home from work.
I didn't think of the possible repercussions until I was riding home. I imagined that a senior waitress may have ripped the note out of her hands, seen the money and told the boss what she had done.
I suppose I just assumed it must be important and it was impossible for her to come up with the money another way. But now, I believe I should have left it alone. We could have gone on eating there pretending that we never knew what her note said.
If this entry seemed a tad lack luster, it is because Explorer "performed an illegal operation" in the midst of me publishing my original entry! Is there anything more infuriating?
A few days after I returned from Qingdao, I met a few students downtown at the Black Tiger Springs. It was nice to be out of the classroom and feel like friends. As we ate lunch, they asked me how many countries I had been to and what my life back home was like. As the conversation progressed, I wanted so badly for it to sink in that I am lucky to have literally all the choices in the world, with everyone I know backing me, telling me to just do "what makes me happy". They told me that it is unlikely they will ever get to leave China. We sat there, four 22 year old women, pasts and futures vastly different. I have still not discovered if youth here are just as satisfied and dissatisfied with their lives as I am with mine. With the language and cultural barrier, I am not sure that I will ever know the answer. In the moments we were laughing and eating spicy cabbage, it seemed we were exactly the same.
Josh and I ate lunch at our favorite spot again yesterday--I still don't know the name of it, but it doesn't make a bit of difference. Lately, we have had the same sweet and smiley young waitress. When she brought our change over, she handed me a note. She must have assumed that we read Chinese because of how quickly we order off the menu (we are still getting mileage out of pointing to something on the menu and waiting for a surprise to appear from the kitchen). I took it with both hands and said thank you. She lingered and looked at me for a moment and then we left. I was so anxious to find out what it said. The possibilities were endless: "Why do you come to this restaurant every other day?", "I think you should know the other waitresses don't bring you what you order and they have a good laugh in the back because you are so clueless when your food arrives" ?
I took the note to work this morning and had one of my best students read it out to me: "Older sister, would you lend me 10 quai? I will return it to you soon. Thank you."
Josh's reaction: We should never go back there. It was very wrong for her to ask customers for money. And if you lent it to her, she may ask again and again.
These were all undebatable arguments and I waited until he finished before I told him what I did. I had my student write a reply: "Hello, we do not read or speak Chinese..yet. I had to have someone translate your note to me. This is our favorite restaurant. ~Betsy" and without even thinking, I folded a 10 quai note up in the paper and delivered it to her at the restaurant on my way home from work.
I didn't think of the possible repercussions until I was riding home. I imagined that a senior waitress may have ripped the note out of her hands, seen the money and told the boss what she had done.
I suppose I just assumed it must be important and it was impossible for her to come up with the money another way. But now, I believe I should have left it alone. We could have gone on eating there pretending that we never knew what her note said.
If this entry seemed a tad lack luster, it is because Explorer "performed an illegal operation" in the midst of me publishing my original entry! Is there anything more infuriating?
posted by B | 8:09 AM
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