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382 pages, Hardcover
First published July 8, 2008
1. They don't know how to stand in a line.Things get better when he leaves the big cities. He's complimentary of the Tibetans and some rural Chinese. He's exclaims with amazement when in Hong Kong that people there know how to queue up.
2. Persons with the strongest elbows gets to go first.
3. Spitting phlegm onto sidewalk is prevalent.
4. Public urination is common sight.
6. It's wise to look where you step.
7. Food menus are strange to western tastes.
......(live squid anyone?)
8. Air pollution is terrible.
9. Water pollution is terrible.
10. Trash and dirt are everywhere.
11. Common proposition, "Make love Chinese girl."
12. Staring at westerners is common
Now, I want to be clear about this. I am very open-minded when it comes to other cultures. By this time, it did not trouble me--well, okay, it troubled me less--that men in China would hawk enormous globs of phlegm and send it hurling forth before you like a wet, gloppy fusillade. But this cutting-in-line business? It continued to steam me. I took a deep breath and reflected on the Chinese context here. Perhaps if I'd been raised in a country of 1.3 billion people, a country that on the surface seemed to be organized on largely Darwinian principles, I'd be a pushy line-cutter myself. And then I extolled myself for my cultural empathy.Many of the Author's embarrassments were caused by the author's inability speak, understand or read Chinese as described in the following example:
Soon, a conductor slipped through. I handed him my ticket. Regrettably, he felt the need to ask me a question.He learns later that what the conductor was trying to tell him was that his ticket was for the next day, not the current day. Can you imagine the feeling of being on the train where everyone else is laughing out loud at you, and you have no idea why? I think I'll limit my travels to China to just reading about it.
"Uh ..." I said. Duibuqi. Wo tingbudong." this was my guidebook attempt at explaining that I didn't have the remotest idea of what he had just said. Sadly, however, I could not even convey my lack of understanding and be understood in China. The conductor barked something else at me.
"I'm sorry. I don't speak Chinese. You wouldn't happen to speak English, would you? No? Parlez-vous francaise? Sprechen zie Deutsch? Espanol? Nederlandse? Cesky? Rusky?"
So useless, these European languages. I recalled my time in Melanesia.
"Me no save Chinese. Yu tok tok Pidgin?"
Finally, my interlocutor gave up, and as he moved on he muttered something that made my train companions laughed hard and merrily until they were seized by lung-splattering hacks and coughs.
