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“It is the quiet pigs that eat the meal.” - Irish Proverb
June 09, 2009
Swine Dining
The swine flu epidemic has swept across the globe, putting fear in the hearts of men. While most of the world has pig on their mind I have it in my stomach. At Hadilao Hot Pot, I had pig brains accompanied with helpings of duck blood and fungus. A hot pot is a bowl of simmering broth in which different food items can be dropped. It is placed in the center of the dining table so that everyone can participate in the process of cooking and eating. The communal meal is particularly popular during the harsh Beijing winter. For the inexperienced hot potter, it is sometimes difficult to determine when the meat has been fully cooked and is ready to eat. The brain was left in the bowl for an extra long amount of time before being consumed as a safety precaution.
June 08, 2009
Subway Saviour
As is the custom in overpopulated nations, mass transit users get on board vehicles before other passengers have a chance to disembark. Usually the members of the opposing groups collide, push, shove, slip, squeak, and slither until each side is where they want to be. One day on the Beijing subway, a peasant girl was left behind in this transition. The rest of her family had made their way onto the train successfully, but the little girl was still on the platform.
As the warning bell sounded and the subway doors started to close from each side, the parents suddenly realized that she had been left behind. The mother started screaming, while the father attempted to retrieve the daughter. The doors were sliding shut quickly and the father could not reach his daughter from inside the train. When there seemed to be little hope for salvation, my heroic instinct kicked in. Just as the authorities had blocked my website, I blocked the door. While I prevented one side from closing, the mother held the other door at bay. This gave the father just enough time to leap onto the platform, scoop up the bewildered child, and hop back on board moments before the doors closed and the train started moving.
With the crisis averted I returned to gazing at my reflection in the subway windows. Meanwhile, the mother had lost her temper. Her hysterical rage was directed at the father, who had forgotten to make sure the daughter was with them when they were aboard the train. The father looked around sheepishly as his wife screamed and screeched. The little girl wailed for a good five minutes, wiped her eyes, and promptly stomped on her father's foot. Noticing the new scuff mark on his shoe, the father delivered a soft but swift kick to his daughter's rear. She immediately started crying again, which led to further scolding of the father by the mother.
Soon my stop arrived. As the shrieking and crying continued in the background, I enjoyed a nice game of Chinese bowling as I got off the train. This is a traditional game where the people who are trying to get on the train and the people who have no intention of getting off the train but are still blocking the doorway act as human pins, while whoever is trying to get out is the ball.
"Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero, he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor, by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world."
- Rebecca Harding Davis
As the warning bell sounded and the subway doors started to close from each side, the parents suddenly realized that she had been left behind. The mother started screaming, while the father attempted to retrieve the daughter. The doors were sliding shut quickly and the father could not reach his daughter from inside the train. When there seemed to be little hope for salvation, my heroic instinct kicked in. Just as the authorities had blocked my website, I blocked the door. While I prevented one side from closing, the mother held the other door at bay. This gave the father just enough time to leap onto the platform, scoop up the bewildered child, and hop back on board moments before the doors closed and the train started moving.
With the crisis averted I returned to gazing at my reflection in the subway windows. Meanwhile, the mother had lost her temper. Her hysterical rage was directed at the father, who had forgotten to make sure the daughter was with them when they were aboard the train. The father looked around sheepishly as his wife screamed and screeched. The little girl wailed for a good five minutes, wiped her eyes, and promptly stomped on her father's foot. Noticing the new scuff mark on his shoe, the father delivered a soft but swift kick to his daughter's rear. She immediately started crying again, which led to further scolding of the father by the mother.
Soon my stop arrived. As the shrieking and crying continued in the background, I enjoyed a nice game of Chinese bowling as I got off the train. This is a traditional game where the people who are trying to get on the train and the people who have no intention of getting off the train but are still blocking the doorway act as human pins, while whoever is trying to get out is the ball.
***********************
"Down these mean streets a man must go who is not himself mean, who is neither tarnished nor afraid. He is the hero, he is everything. He must be a complete man and a common man and yet an unusual man. He must be, to use a rather weathered phrase, a man of honor, by instinct, by inevitability, without thought of it, and certainly without saying it. He must be the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world."
- Rebecca Harding Davis
Labels:
beijing,
china,
transportation
June 02, 2009
ARNABlocked
If you are reading this message that means that I no longer have access to the Blogger platform that is used to host ARNABlog.
ARNABlog has been SENsored by the authorities from the moment I arrived, and perhaps even earlier. The gatekeepers of the Internet allowed most other blogs to merrily exist in the new engine of the world economy, but ARNABlog could only be accessed from within the People's Republic sporadically. Presently, the Great Firewall of China has ARNABlocked not only my site but also all others that are hosted on Blogger. Although I could not view my literary output online, I could still publish my inner thoughts. At the moment, even that is not possible until the ARNABan is lifted.
ARNABlog has been SENsored by the authorities from the moment I arrived, and perhaps even earlier. The gatekeepers of the Internet allowed most other blogs to merrily exist in the new engine of the world economy, but ARNABlog could only be accessed from within the People's Republic sporadically. Presently, the Great Firewall of China has ARNABlocked not only my site but also all others that are hosted on Blogger. Although I could not view my literary output online, I could still publish my inner thoughts. At the moment, even that is not possible until the ARNABan is lifted.
May 12, 2009
Lazy Gay
My office in the Dacheng International Center was recently renovated. There was a lack of available meeting space. The cubicles were shifted back so that additional rooms could be created. The construction took place over the weekend, leaving the office a dusty mess when all the employees arrived at work the following Monday.
Chinese lady:
Chinese lady:
Our desk and chair so dirty.
You just stay there!
Dont clean this!
So lazy!Me:
I thought that the cleaning lady will clean it.Chinese lady:
Dose she clean your desk?Me:
Yes, she cleans it every day.Chinese lady:
Your chair is dirty, too.
You are a lazy gay.
May 11, 2009
Fashion Show
"Stunning to the senses, soothing to the soul..."
As the new star of the Beijing social scene, I ignited passion in the hearts of both local and expatriate women alike when I made a surprise appearance at a charity fashion show taking place at the Green T. House. Miss China, Miss Beijing, and Miss Shanghai from years past were also in attendance at the slick venue. Flanked by my Irish roommate, his American coworker, and a flock of ARNABabes, I posed for photographers and munched on appetizers for most of the night.
The actual fashion show was very brief, lasting for around ten minutes. Female models wearing vintage threads prowled the makeshift catwalk as the flashbulbs went off continuously in front (and behind) of them. The stark white interior of the room provided a good contrast to the dark garments adorning the models. Some had happy expressions on their faces, while others sported angry, indifferent, or vacant looks. One of the leggy models had developed a slight hunch, most likely stemming from the fact she was 1.3 times the height of the average Chinese man. Even if my tantalizing beauty were to be taken out of the equation, there were enough stunners present to make it a memorable evening.
As the new star of the Beijing social scene, I ignited passion in the hearts of both local and expatriate women alike when I made a surprise appearance at a charity fashion show taking place at the Green T. House. Miss China, Miss Beijing, and Miss Shanghai from years past were also in attendance at the slick venue. Flanked by my Irish roommate, his American coworker, and a flock of ARNABabes, I posed for photographers and munched on appetizers for most of the night.
The actual fashion show was very brief, lasting for around ten minutes. Female models wearing vintage threads prowled the makeshift catwalk as the flashbulbs went off continuously in front (and behind) of them. The stark white interior of the room provided a good contrast to the dark garments adorning the models. Some had happy expressions on their faces, while others sported angry, indifferent, or vacant looks. One of the leggy models had developed a slight hunch, most likely stemming from the fact she was 1.3 times the height of the average Chinese man. Even if my tantalizing beauty were to be taken out of the equation, there were enough stunners present to make it a memorable evening.
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